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SO SHOOT ME!

...I can't help being a BACKSTREET BOYS fan.

By Dave Karger


If there were any dogs the auditorium, they'd be dead by now. No, we're not talking about one of those fabled Ozzy Osbourne destroy-these-puppies-or-I-won't-play edicts. This canine killer is the five-alarm shrieking in Seattle's Key Arena as the Backstreet Boys close a live show with their top five bump-and-grinder "Everybody (Backstreet's Back)." When Nick Carter--the youngest, blondest, and most yelp-inducing Boy--blurts out the ludricrous line "Am I sexual?" hordes of 8-to 15-year-old girls clutch their throwaway cameras and scream their braces off. Another night, another 10,000 sexual awakenings. To be a 12-year-old female Backstreet Boys fan is to say it loud and proud with BSB signs, pinups, and silk-screened pillowcases of your favorite Backstreet crush: Carter, 18; AJ McLean, 20; Brian Littrell, 23; Howie Dorough, 25; or Kevin Richardson, 26. The rest of us, however, must lead more clandestine existances. "Oh, that's the one who looks like Marky Mark," we shrug when Brian appears, even though we know that he likes to be called B-Rok or just Rok for short, since Rok is what you call a basketball and B-Rok really really loves to play hoops except for when he had to take two months off this spring to have surgery to fix a hole in his heart. We shield their CD sleeve and mutter, "Uh, the Pumpkins" if someone asks what's in the Discman. And we never admit we've watched their 78-minute behind-the-scenes Backstreet Boys All Access Video. Twice.

Granted, it's reasonable to blush. After all, the Boys, who formed in 1993 in Orlando, Fla., didn't write any songs or play instruments on Backstreet Boys, their American debut; their manager is the same guy who put New Kids on the Block in teenage bedrooms (and on critics' worst lists) worldwide; and from the looks of their videos, they've never met a full-body shave they didn't like. In other words, you won't be partying to Backstreet Boys music unless you're at Chuck E. Cheese.

Yet for a group easily dismissed as a flash-in-the-pan teen act, the Backstreet Boys have managed some impressive feats: 22 million records sold worldwide and 4.4 million in domestic sales make Backstreet Boys 1998's third-best-selling album so far, behind the Titanic soundtrack and the unofficial Titanic soundtrack, Celine Dion's Let's Talk About Love. Their breakthrough U.S. pop singles--"Quit Playing Games (With My Heart)" and "As Long as You Love Me"--were even bigger hits on the older-skewing adult contemporary chart. Ther North American summer tour should draw a half-million fans and gross $10 million plus. Even the cranky Village Voice gave the Boys a thumbs-up. Behind these fresh-scrubbed faces and slippery torsos are five surprising capable vocalists.

Fittingly, Euro-kids, out-of-the-gate advocates for prefab pop ventures like the Spice Girls, were the first to take to the Boys. "We'd have tons of fans at the airport when we'd leave Europe, and back in America, there'd be, like, nobody," says Howie, backstage before the Aug. 14 Seattle gig. "It was humbilizing."

"Humbilizing?" says Nick, pelting Howie with grapes from a fruit basket. "Howie's making up his own words!"

Better than the unprintable words some throw at the Boys. "I was checking my messages last night," says AJ, "and some guy was going 'You suck!' There's even girls that don't like us."

Which is fine by them. While the Boys won't utter the words "New Kids" in an interview, they sprinkle conversation with homboy signifiers like "dope," "phat," and "wack." Curiously, though they've sparked deafening global hysteria the likes of which Boyz II Men and Bone Thugs-N-Harmony will never know, they covet the "props" male listeners afford such urban guy groups. But admit it fellas: Backstreet bedsheets don't exactly scream street cred. "That was all from the merchandising company," Brian protests. "When we saw it..."

"We freaked out," says Nick.

"We were like, 'We didn't approve that,'" seconds Brian.

Grousing about respect from the top of the charts isn't going to earn much sympathy. But since the Boys are so inclined, why do they think the mas macho audience has eluded them? "'Cause we're not talking about sex and drugs," says Kevin. "We're talking about love, partying, having a good time--maybe that's too soft for them."

"They wanna hear Onyx or something," AJ pipes in.

"Maybe it's the fact that we're five white guys," Howie offers.

"If we were five black guys, we wouldn't have this scrutiny," Kevin repeats. "It's the truth."

Backing away from a touchy thesis, Nick shrugs: "People have their own taste. I mean, I wouldn't listen to the Spice Girls."

Hey Nick--at least the Spice Girls have songwriting credits. But soon, so will the Boys. The next step in their teenyboppers-be-gone image makeover will be the frightening task of picking up instruments and penning tunes for their next American CD.

Maybe that record will be "dope" enough to draw us silent BSB fans out of the closet. Maybe, too, it'll disenfranchise those pigeonholing fans who have made the Backstreet Boys...stars. In any case, the Boys are determined to give it their chest-flashing all. "When we were in L.A. last week, I got a chance to talk to some older friends I play basketball with," Brian says. "And they were like, 'I don't listen to that kind of music.' But I got 'em a ticket to the show just to open their eyes. Afterward, they said, 'I still wouldn't listen to the music, but you guys are really talented.'" He sits back and smiles. It's a review worth a million screams.


*Taken from the September 4, 1998, issue of Entertainment Weekly*


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