The
Review:
If you
belong to the school of thought that are of the opinion that BSB are just another
“pretty boy group” riding high on the senseless fanaticism of teenage girls
and the hype of the media to enlarge their persona to, in some strange way
compare or replace the Beatles in the Millennium, then you might not have seen
the Black and Blue concert.
Because
trust me when the lights go down and the drum roll stops your heart, arising
from the pits of mountains like volcanoes come five guys whom the deafening
music and screaming fans has completely transformed into kick-ass, hard-hitting,
“non-lip synching” rockers completely alienating all traces of the lame pop
group you had come to know and possibly love to hate.
I went
with a very objective independent mind, not knowing what to expect but most of
all expecting the worst. I like their music don’t get me wrong, but I like all
kinds of music, and I’ve heard better and I have definitely heard worse. Most
of all, I have seen less talented people become chart-topping megastars
stressing the fact that in this fast-paced entertainment world we live in,
anything surely goes. And for me, there was no distinctly “no-playa hating”
involved.
Due to
the high ticket prices I was at first reluctant to dole out time and money to
get it—ill-luck scoring good tickets from TM makes you sort of lose the
inspiration—but a casual call by noon, and 10 minutes later I was the proud
owner of a pair of tickets on the first level, not bad at all, not bad at all.
The day
of the concert came too soon. The Georgia dome venue of this tremendous occasion
was vibrating with music from the hypocritical radio stations that had pitched
their tent as early as 7am in aim of capitalizing on the event to score more
airplay and promotion from the amassing crowd in attendance and thousands
listening at home. They went as far as to offer participants everything from
CD’s to backstage passes to front row tickets just to win some patronage from
the BSB fans.
After
numerous plans made to rendezvous with some members of my BSB family (some
ladies from one of the numerous Yahoogroups dedicated to this group) at the
venue, sadly nothing came to fruition, the logistics just failed to fall into
place. That was when it hit me: how was I, a 20-something year old woman, going
to attend a concert, knowing that 80% of the fans haven’t hit puberty yet?
Will I stick out like a sore thumb? Would I look like I should have
children/nieces with me of the ages 6-16? Should I adorn myself with all the
memorabilia and emblazoned scriptures of undying love and devotion of these 5
gentlemen that likewise fans had…e.g. “Nick I love you” painted in bold
colors on children’s foreheads, “BSB for life” marked on car windows, or
the quintessential, “I drove 5,000 miles just to see you” printed on a
handmade artsy banner.
It gets worse when you have no intentions of purchasing any memorabilia on the
venue that would identify you with the rest of the BSB clan, e.g. overpriced
t-shirts with their faces on it…$30, jackets…$45, posters of each member and
one with the group…$10, rented binoculars…$15, neon lights…$15, etc.
(these prices may vary according to venue)---all small prices to pay to register
your devotion to the no.1 pop group in the US. (According to BSB fans)
So I
braved it all on my own, and come 27th January 2001, I was in for an
adventure and fully paid crash course in BSB 101.
After
some unnecessary delays and two brief musically diverse opening acts, Nelly (rap
star) and Krystal (soon to be released pop artist), the concert finally
commenced at a quarter to 9. Putting up my guard that I would try as much to act
my age, I found that I couldn’t contain an ounce of my excitement by the
second song of their performance, which was aptly titled “Larger Than Life”.
The music and the energy was so intoxicating and stimulating that I started to
yell, scream and dance so hard just so I could keep up with the rush of blood
flow to my brain; at this point maintaining sitting position was almost
impossible, no one could we all flocked towards the stage like geese in a
gander. It was a thrill of a lifetime.
However,
I didn't cry, faint, throw my bra or panty, teddy bear or any other stuffed
animal, or stake out their hotel (yes some people did do that though now I think
of it I wouldn't blame them) or any of those crazy things fans do, but I almost
did---cry---and I screamed every time they licked their lips, grabbed their
crotches, fell to the ground, yanked off their tee-shirts, or worse off when
they turned around and the camera zoomed in on their shaking booties (that was
particularly the high point of the evening for me, shameful but true) Also, when
they sang a particular song that was my favorite ...More Than That from the
Black and Blue CD----my eyes got kind of teary, as I noticed with several others
in the arena, when I heard
familiar lyrics like: Don’t give loneliness a chance they sort of rung
too close to home. ( Whoever penned
those lyrics must have had me in mind)
They rocked the house continuously from the moment they appeared on stage flanked with
energetic soul dancers, until they left (which was a little too soon, because the concert lasted
for only an hour and a half) I couldn't stop screaming even at Nick, the youngest, and the
most popular---it was the eve of his birthday so we all sang the birthday song for him.
I thought I could withstand the screams, I thought it was basic teeny bopper stuff, but there
I was a 20-something year old gal screaming and bowing my head, proclaiming that