I've always thought "shriek" was a wonderful word. When you are reading and stumble across it, you instantly can hear "shrreeeeeek!" in your mind, going up in pitch to a nice high C. Oh mothers, think of 20,000 young girls pancaked into the steep tiers of the Marriott Center Saturday night, all SHRIEKING at a pitch that only dog whistles should make. I had a headache THIS BIG!!
New Kids on the Block's Magic Summer Tour hit Provo with an assault of sight and sound that left its young fans dazed, thrilled and totally wrung out.Rick Wes opened the concert backed by "Lady Soul," three wonderfully hip black singers whose choreography occasionally outperformed the young Mr. Wes who is being groomed as producer Maurice Starr's next megahit. My 13-year-old seatmate (my daughter Brooke) said of Wes, "He's an Elvis-the Pelvis man, definitely! But the girls go for that." Singing three songs from his debut album, "North, South, East and Wes," Wes had the young audience screaming wildly and eager to hear more.
Perfect Gentlemen was next. In typical Starr fashion the group was smoothly choreographed, and members were as good on their feet as they were with their voices. On "Ooh La La," they were upbeat and rappy, and my daughter tells me this is a top 10 song. But as they were singing, someone came from behind the futuristic set and flung popcorn all over them. Perfect Gentlemen picked up the popcorn and threw it back and before long a wild food fight was in force. At the end of their set, it was announced that this was the last night for Perfect Gentlemen and it was a tradition to end it this way. The wild characters dashing from behind the set to pelt the Gentlemen were none other than the fabled Kids themselves, setting off rounds of shrieks.
But the mess on stage had to be carefully cleaned up and a huge screen TV flashed on with a slick New Kids/McDonald's promotion that featured Kid Trivia (the group got their first break opening for Tiffany, favored Kid food is Italian and a favorite male singer is Sinatra) and the obligatory McDonald's commercial. The commercials faded, and a battered box that looked like cardboard with the New Kids logo on it slowly descended, the lettering disappearing under a flash of light, revealing the New Kids.
And so it began, an exhausting set that rocked and rolled and heated up the Marriott Center with fog and laser lights and the unmistakable smell of a sixth-grade gym class. Parents sat resignedly while their offspring stood, jumped and continued to scream for the next two plus hours. From "Step by Step" to "Games" the Kids performed their hearts out.
The Kids have entertained 2 million people this summer on their 12-week, 46-city tour. While the video presentation and the concert itself is positive and full of anti-drug messages, the Kids' performance is far from squeaky clean. Donnie Wahlberg made Elvis look arthritic - and the camera that projected the concert live on the two big screens spent a lot of time capturing pelvic thrusts. Would it be hard to resist playing for such an easy squeal by emphasizing sexuality? Apparently Donnie Wahlberg and Jordan Knight couldn't say no.
Most of the audience was female; it's hard to find a boy who will admit to being a New Kids fan. When Jordan had a solo that was so pointedly sexy (a fan blowing his unbuttoned white shirt about him while he posed and preened) a group of about seven 13-year-old boys had all they could take and walked out catcalling to the Kids all the way up to the exit.
Danny Wood did an incredible breakdance, and throughout the concert there were moments when the group got beyond the teen idol stuff. The Kids did a reggae number that was soulful and had me on my feet before I knew what I was doing. "This One's for the Children," wound on a bit too long but showed versatility.
The concert ended dramatically in a flash, and there wasn't anyone who didn't think they got their money's worth except for those disgruntled boys. My Brooke thought the Kids were great, though she's not a rabid fan. On our way out, 10-year-old Steven Stoker told us, "It was OK, they were pretty good." A 15-year-old from Salt Lake City named Autumn had nearly lost her voice. "I screamed my head off," she reported.
But the best word came from a mother herding a group of girls to the parking lot. "Your next concert, you'll be old enough to come on your own!"
I couldn't quite understand how we could drive up to the Marriott Center and get a parking place in just 20 minutes from State Street. It took us an hour to get out of Provo. And Brooke said I could admit I made her listen to Rachmaninoff on the way home.