I saw the poster announcing their joint concert a while ago. Should I or shouldn't I? I just forgot. I saw the odd combination of mature male thirty-somethings on the sofa on BBC breakfast talking about their tour and again felt a tingle of excitement. Should I? And I forgot. Again. But when Bridget Maasland was talking about the NKOTBSB tour yesterday on RTL Boulevard, hitting Ahoy that same night, I could no longer contain myself, grabbed some money and set way to the South of Rotterdam, where 20 (yes, that's twenty) years ago I attended my first ever concert: New Kids On The Block. Long before festivals and concerts sold out online in 4 minutes and I declared myself 'alternative' at the tender age of 15, I queued for hours to get the tickets with a primary school friend at the local VVV tourist information point. So now it was smooth sailing, just paying 35 euro's for an e-ticket some poor sick girl had given to her friends.
I can honestly say I skipped into Ahoy, mainly affected by all the female hormones flying around. And it was lovely. The conversations no longer were about going to secondary school or how you feel about your 12-year old classmate, but I heard women talk about their children, make-up, face peelings, work and the new men in their lives, who obviously replaced Joey, Donny, Nick, AJ, etc. a long time ago. "What did your husband say when you told him you wanted to go to this concert?" "He just cringed and begged me if he could stay home to watch the kids. I told him, you're not even allowed to come!" Laughs all around before the screaming starts. Oh, the screams. The scream-O-meter indicated that Brian McFadden was the most popular dude present, by the way. I am not much of a screamer, but I do sing along. LOUD. Imagine my surprise that I actually remembered the lyrics to the Backstreet Boys songs better than the New Kids ones, because, well, they were the enemy of everything I stood for (Nirvana, Bjork, Greenday, Ben Folds). At one point I actually heard myself shout: play another song. Which they did, for 2,5 hours (!!!) nine once boys, now married men, sang their hearts, souls and shirts off to the delight of a large audience of appreciative females. And males, I might add. I saw grown men sing along with tears in their eyes. A beer in one hand, a recording mobile phone in the other.
Highlights of the evening for me were 'Tonight, Tonight', 'Everybody', realizing that Joey can actually sing (instead of being just so damn cute), giggling at dance-moves gone wrong, Donnie Wahlberg's shirtless body, the mashups with Coldplay and Robbie Williams music, watching the smiles on all the guys' faces who were clearly enjoying themselves and the nostalgia of all these beaming women in retro t shirts. The boys are all grown up now. Last time I saw AJ, he was on Oprah talking about fighting his addiction. Tuesday-night he looked healthy in his 'Just Married' and 'Daddy to Be' sparkly tanktop and for some reason I felt proud that he had overcome his childhood demons. What do you call these aged boys? 'The Backstreet Men' just sounds like a dodgy crime novel... Ah well, who cares, NKOTBSB was great, so to a rather large group of thirty something women they will always be referred to as New Kids On The Block and the Backstreet Boys. But please boys, what's with the Michael Jackson style crotch moves? Have your mama's never taught you not to touch your genitalia in public? Or maybe I'm just getting old...
