From Girls' Life
They're the hottest band in the world. So why don't they have
the same following here? They'veconquered the world. But can five
guys from Orlando get it goin' on at home?
t?s 8 a.m., Tuesday, December 9, 1997. Thousands of holiday shoppers
are already flooding New
York City streets. People in business suits hurry past, dodging
the tree lots that have sprung up on
every street corner. It?s gray, chilly and beginning to feel a
lot like Christmas.
To everyone, that is, except the Backstreet Boys. They should
be on vacation. After touring for
months, they were supposed to have flown from last night?s Billboard
Music Awards in Las Vegas
back to their home in Orlando. Instead, the Boys caught an overnight
flight to New York to sing at
the biggest radio show in the country, the Z100 Jingle Ball. Dispite
the corny name, the concert is
huge - Fiona Apple, Sarah McLachlan, The Wallflowers and Aerosmith
are scheduled to appear,
among others.
After stashing their bags in their hotel rooms, Kevin Richardson,
26, Howie Dorough, 23, Brian
Littrell, 22, A.J. McLean, 20, and Nick Carter, 17, make their
way to the lobby and flop down on
the couches. Kevin, the oldest of the group, digs into his backpack
and pulls out his shades. Forget
avoiding fans - he wants to avoid daylight. Clad in a puffy Moschino
coat and black jeans, he
promptly falls asleep. Fiona, Sarah, Jakob - you can bet they
are still in bed. All big music stars are
still in bed at 8 a.m. Unfortunately for the Backstreet Boys,
they happen to be big music starts....in
Belgium.
If the Backstreet Boys are the biggest pop group you?ve never
heard of, heaven knows it isn?t
because of their lack of effort. Back in 1995, the Boys released
?We?ve Got It Goin? On?, and it
went exactly nowhere. Their catchy, infectious dance beats and
feel-good, angst-free lyric were lost
on a radio audience still donning flannel and thinking heavy Pearl
Jam thoughts. However, the song
caught fire abroad, and that?s when the Boys decided to head to
Europe. In short order, the Boys
went platinum in Germany, Spain, Austria, Switzerland and 15 other
countries. Then came
Singapore, Australia and Indonesia. By 1996, they were one of
the most popular bands in the
world. They even beat out Oasis, Jamiroquai and the Spice Girls
to walk off with MTV Europe?s
Viewers Select Award for favorite artist. With 5 million records
sold, the Backstreet boys had
assembled a virtual United Nations of fans. This left just one
country to conquer - their own.
That is why they are here, in this hotel lobby, with bloodshot
eyes and, one suspects, in great need
of showers. Their management has begged them to appear at just
one more shindig. That mean
dragging themselves out of their beds and shuffling over to Madison
Square Garden, the biggest
arena in New York. Still, the Boys seem reasonably excited. They?re
heading to a sound check at
the Garden. The freakin? Garden! Often thought of as the brass
ring for any performer - selling out
the 25,000 seat Garden is handy record industry status booster
- being asked to sing here is
certainly a sign that their time has finally come. As the old
song goes, if they can make it here, they
can make it anywhere.
As they enter the building, two security guards as if they need
help. While all the Boys possess
rock-star good looks, they are still devoid of many rock star
trappings - no major entourage, no big
attitude. While this may be a good sign, the security guards aren?t
so sure and ask the Boys to wait
until their passes arrive, which they do patiently. And there
lies the irony. They?ve headlined in
arenas twice the size, been mobbed so badly by groupies that they
had to crawl out windows in
Germany. But here, they?re anonymous - five guys in need of an
All Access pass.
After a few minutes, the Boys are finally in the dressing room,
which doubles as a locker room for
the New York Knicks, who are off in Chicago. The room is basically
white cinderblock with a few
couches and a rather large, rather disgusting bathroom. But the
Boys settle in and do what they do
second best - hang out with each other.
They?ve spent four years on the road together and it shows. They?re
so comfortable with each other
you?d think they were all related. (Two are - Kevin and Brian
are cousins.) The Boys are hilarious
in a way you?d expect - they do wicked imitations (read on), talk
about stuff on TV, revel each
other?s weird talents (Brian sings Christmas carols in Hawaiian).
They rag on each other (when
Nick?s tongue turns green from Sour Apple Blow Pops, the other
Boys call him ?Frog Licker?) and
tell funny embarrassing stories. They have secret codes to cut
each other off (FP for full protection)
when the stories (or one of the guys) get out of control.
The band got its start six years ago when Howie and AJ met while
using the same vocal coach.
Two years later, they hooked up with Nick, who they often ran
into oat auditions. The three often
harmonized to kill time. Wanting to make the sound richer, they
sought more members. They found
Kevin, who had been playing Aladdin at Disney World. Then, Kevin
suggested bringing his cousin
Brian on board, and the Backstreet Boys (named after a local hangout)
were born. The boys held
concerts at school and opened for major bands appearing in Orlando.
They landed their lable
contract when their manager left a voicemail message consisting
of girls shrieking as the Boys sang.
At this moment, Nick is in desperate need of donuts. Howie wants
his apple juice. Brian, emerging
from his fog, scoots out the door on a breakfast quest. Nina,
the tour manager, doesn?t like the
Boys to stray from her sight. She often conducts head counts,
like a room mother on a field trip.
But she?s busy arranging sound check for tonight?s show, so Brian
slips away to a corner deli.
Five egg-sausage-and-cheese on rolls later, Brian comes back,
triumphant. Almost without
noticing, he hops into an elevator with a bemused Ike Hanson.
Also performing tonight, Ike looks
at Brian?s rumpled jacket, untucket shirt and baseball cap and
asks, ?Red Eye??. Brian just nods.
Much has been made of the alleged rivalry between Hanson and Backstreet
Boys. The brothers and
the Boys have met and insist that, while both are pop groups,
they?re different - and they respect
each other as entertainers, like each others music, blah, blah,
blah.
Yet, the contrasts say a lot about both bands. In truth, they
couldn?t be more different. Hanson
writes their own songs (Backstreet Boys do songs written by other
people, albeit great people like
PM Dawn the brothers? play instruments (the Boys don?t ) and,
perhaps most bothersome, the
brothers? incredible success seems to have catapulted them to
instant homegrown rock idol status.
Both groups have endured barbs from the press, accusing them of
being perfab phonies offered up
more as eye candy than ear candy. But Hanson has managed to silence
critics and convert doubters.
Even their fellow rockers have noticed. Ike was recently seen
trading pointers with U2?s the Edge,
and tonight, Aerosmith?s Steven Tyler wants to drop by and with
them luck, with two smitten
daughters in tow.
This is, for the Backstreet Boys, ?humbling? and Kevin puts it.
For the rest of the World, the Boys
are chosen idols of worship. Foreign press and fans love ?em,
and the CDs fly off the shelves.
Says Nick, ?We realize we?re not as big here as in the rest of
the world.? Adds Brian, ?We went
around the world to places where we would have reaction, success.
We?d sing in huts if we had to.
It just exploded. But now we want to have that kind of success
here.?
It?s now two hours left to show time. Things are picking up backstage,
Celine Dion dashes in,
flanked by a group of rather large bodyguards. She?s tonight?s
surprise guest, though no one
backstage look particularly surprised to see her. Sarah McLachlan
floats by and you can identify an
member of the Wall flowers because they all seem fond of black
plastic sunglasses and Russian
hats. Lisa Loeb is stuck at the end of the hall, with the promise
that the second Celine Dion in outta
here, she gets Celine?s room. At the other end is Camp Hanson.
While all the other dressing rooms
feature the same nasty couches, foul-looking cold cut plates and
Jingle Ball posters (hastily slapped
up by a Z100 assistant in hopes of making the joint look at least
a little festive), Camp Hanson
looks like a ritzy Discovery Zone. Toys and kids are everywhere,
smaller ones being randomly
scooped up by a make nanny that could give any of the performing
Hanson kids a run for their
hunk money.
Back in the Backstreet Boys dressing room, the guys begin their
pre-show rituals. Andre, their
stylist, brings in the shiny track suits they?ll be sporting tonight
, plus some Oakley shades for
Kevin and A.J., ski goggles for Brian to wear on his left leg
(Andre doesn?t offer up a reason for
this fashion choice other than it?s awfully ?street?) and a Kangol
hat for Nick that could have been
borrowed from either LL Cool Jay or Celine Dion?s chauffeur. A.J.
gets liberally moussed (?How
does my hair look? High enough for ya??) and Howie pulls his into
a tight ponytail. Nick combs
his longish blond cut straight back and gels. In a second, he
goes from goofball to babe magnet.
The transformation is shocking to anyone who hasn?t seen this
grooming drill before - and
seemingly to Nick himself. Dispite repeating this routine almost
every day of the last two years, he
still seems almost surprised to see himself this way.
It?s now 8 pm, and a deafening roar emits from down the hall.
Hanson has gone on-stage.
Someone tries to identify the opener, but not much can be heard
over the wailing. One of the
entourage makes a trip into the arena in time to catch Taylor
asking ?Where?s the Love? from behind
the keyboards, Ike strumming front and center, and Zac pounding
away in the back. And darn if
they aren?t good.
Back in the dressing room, the din dies enough for the Boys to
hear Hanson launch into
?MmmBop?. Even they can?t resist singing along, sort of. ?MmmBop,
I?ve got clean socks.
MmmBop, Clorox rocks.?
?Hey?, one of the Boys offers helpfully, ?Maybe they can do ads!?
Hanson finishes the set with a song from Snowed In, and the crowd
is ecstatic. You can?t help
notice the Moms heading for the door with the younger set, who
are most definitely expected in
fourth grade homeroom tomorrow morning. That is probably the major
difference here. While
Hanson has been embraced by people from pre-k to college, the
Backstreet Boys appeal isn?t
exactly, um, as family-oriented. You can almost pick out the Backstreet
fans by the number of tiny
tank-topped teen girls pushing their way up front, the decks cleared
of their little sisters.
With only moments left before they are to go on stage, the room
is cleared of everyone but the
Boys. They need to complete one last preshow ritual, praying.
Despite the somewhat racy image,
all five thank God for everything they have earned.
Stage hands call for the Boys and then, seconds passing, pound
on the door. No Boys. A
nervous-looking woman screams, ?Go to videotape!? into her walkie-talkie,
and the Spice Girls are
beamed into the Garden on huge screens. Suddenly, the door opens
and the Boys head down the
hall. Nick stops to hug and high-five the Full Force crew, who
wrote ?All I Have To give? for the
band. Nina yanks him away. Nick snaps back into Backstreet mode,
the Boys charge up the stage
to the largest U.S. audience they?ve ever faced. And, for one
moment, when they can see the
audience from under the stairs, they just stare.
People are screaming from every angle BSB WE LOVE YOU signs are
waving, girls are standing
on their seats and, for that instant, you can feel the success
that has been eluding them on their own
shores washing over them in waves. They take their positions and
the heavy bass of ?We?ve got it
goin? on? pounds. The Boys break into a dance routine, flying
around stage with moves that make
it clear Hanson has left the building. A.J. whips off his jacket
and yanks up his white tank top,
treating the audience to a rather impressive set of stomach muscles.
Pandemonium ensues.
They transition into ?I?ll Never Break Your Heart? and then stop
long enough to say hi before ?Quit
Playing Games With My Heart?. While everything else comes naturally,
speaking to thousands of
people who actually understand English seems to leave the Boys
tongue-tied. After a few ?Was
Ups!? and the like, they lead off ?QPG? a capella. Gathered in
the center, the five count off and
sing, their voices echoing through the building. It is pure, heart-stopping
singing. After a few bars,
the Boys stop and the music starts, and they give it to the audience
full on.
The Boys save their best-know song ?As Long As You Love Me? for
last, but first they debut the
rather sappy ?Let?s Toast to My Love?, complete with tables, chairs
and red roses. They announce
that they are looking for three girls to come up and dance. The
place goes nuts. A few moments
later, three girls appear. Three of the Boys sit at the tables
and chat with their ?dates?, taking turns
singing with the other two Boys who try to touch hands with girls
in the front row without being
pulled off stage.
It?s no small accident that one of the ?dates? is dating a Backstreet
Boy in real life. The other Boys
profess to be ?dating around? which, given that they are rarely
in the same city for more than a few
days, isn?t hard to believe. Nick?s attempts to garner attention
from various pop princesses have
been pretty unsuccessful (Alliyah recently ignored him at an awards
show, and tonight?s crush,
Fiona Apple, is being trailed by some guy who doesn?t seem to
willing to let her out of his sight).
Nick himself professes he never knows what to say and actually
seems relieved not to have to deal
with another superstar songstress who may or may not need it explained
to her what a Backstreet
Boy is. Howie had problems last night with Gwen Stefani (who seemed
much more enticed by
some guy from Metallica and struck Howie as snotty anyway), and
AJ has after-show plans with a
girl he thinks is cool. Unfortunately, she?s bringing her boyfriend.
Their love problems shouldn?t last. Backstage is teeming with
a large number of barely dressed
teenage girls whose credentials for being there seem to be ?I?m
(insert big name record executive?s
name here) daughter!? The most hang time is given to a certain
songbird?s former stepdaughter,
who seems to have borrowed her outfit for the evening in an attempt
to look subtle. Much to their
credit, the Boys barely notice and sign autographs ad pose for
pictures with a fair amount of polish.
Also backstage is Kristen Larson. Kristen stood in line 12 hours
to buy tickets to tonight?s concert
with just one goal - to see Nick Carter. Of course, when and her
friends intended to do it from their
balcony seats. Kristen just wanted a glimpse of her celebrity
crush, hoping he might be able to
make out the ?I love Nick Carter? poster she made. Then fate intervened.
The guard accidentally
knocked Kristen to the ground and security whisked her group backstage
so that First Aid could
keep an eye on her. Now she has her eye on Nick, who is making
his way back from a photo
session with paparazzi photographers. As Nick draws closer, Kristen
begins to cry uncontrollably.
Howie, seeing her first, reaches out and holds her hand, almost
as if he is unsure of how Nick will
handle this and wants to be sure she at least has a runner-up
Backstreet Boy memory to take home.
But Nick does not disappoint. He approaches the sobbing Kristen
and gives her a hug, thanking her
for the nice sign. Kristen can barely move or speak and everyone
near her starts to cry, too, just
from the overwhelming amount of emotion pouring out of Kristen.
Nick himself seems almost at a
loss. As he walks on towards his dressing room, he seems almost
in disbelief that all that was for
him.
In all likelihood, it won?t be long before all that Backstreet
Boys are faced with ?Was that all for
me?? moments. While fame is the goal, the Boys seem blissfully
unaware of how much their lives
will change. While they?ve been hounded by foreign fans, they
are still able to move freely in their
own county. They talk about wanting lengthy careers like fellow
Jingle Ballers Aerosmith. They
look forward to the days when they will sing their own songs and
produce and mix their own
CD?s.
For the moment, the only think that stands in their way may be
their own good intentions. By
refusing to become character versions of themselves (Kevin, the
old one! Howie, the middle age
one! Nick, the young one!) or mold their personalities to conform
to another one of the press?s
favorite jibes, ?the Spice Boys? (Look how scary A.J. is! He?s
got tattoos and soon he?s going to
pierce anything that won?t cause him to pass out! And don?t forget
Brian, he?s posh when he?s
actually showered!) They are too dance to be hip-hop (plus two
of them hate basketball, and Brian
looks about as fly as a J. Crew model) and too hot to be good
clean family pop stars.
So that leaves them with just being themselves, which, at the
end of the day is pretty darn great.
The only question that remains is: Will it be enough? You kind
of can?t help but want it to.
RETURN TO BACKSTREET ARTICLES PAGE