The mother, glancing at the stage and realizing how close they will be to their beloved Boys, screams with glee. It's incidents like this that demonstrate the true craziness of this new wave of boy bands. Ten minutes through her 20-minute set my attention was forcibly drawn away from the impressive footwork. I tolerated the abuse because I, too, found myself caught up in the moment, shrieking with excitement. Once the mob scene subsided, the Backstreet Boys put on a two-hour music, dance and pyro extravaganza.
Young girls dove for it, risking life and limb.
The remainder of the set was packed with every major hit, and then some. Each ballad was a formulaic imitation of old Motown tunes. But despite the lack of soul, the songs were still intriguing. Just as unoriginal were the upbeat numbers, which they cleverly combined into a medley. As the Boys were being lowered from the stage into their underground realm, I realized that deep down I had a secret adoration for Brian and Kevin, and the others for that matter.