You’re going to read this article merely to spit upon it. That’s all right. But hear me out. Because this might just make sense.
Although you’ll probably hate yourself and the author at the end of this, you’ll feel liberated.
Maybe.
Around about when I was in the sixth standard, the Backstreet Boys were popular. Really, really popular.
So was N’Sync. And Westside. You know this, of course.
Now, back then, I was an impressionable child. And my role model was my older sister, a lady four years older than me and of great personal magnetism. She used to spend hours in the library, reading books far above her age. Many years later, she was a multiple academic gold medalist and voted best outgoing student in college.
Now, being a good little younger brother, I read all the books she did (I’ve consequently read several period romance novels, a fact I’m not proud of, but that’s another story), went to all the fancy plays and movies she did, tried to be a good student and finally, when I thought she could do no wrong, she unleashed the Backstreet Boys upon me.
Score Editorial Team: This one’s pretty good, actually.
I was a kid. She said ‘The Call’ was a cool song. It sounded cool to me. So I was a BSB fan. I learned all there was to know about Nick, A. J., Howie, Brian and Kevin. I had a favourite Backstreet Boy.
We listened to Black and Blue on tape (Yes, tape. Remember tape recorders? Remember using a pencil to wind and unwind cassettes when they got tangled?) until it wore out. And Millennium. We treasured the little foldout thing that came with the cassette and had all the lyrics in 3 pointsize (Visible only to very young children with excellent eyesight. Good marketing strategy, in retrospect)
And I could sing along to all the songs. I still can. If you play a BSB song out loud in any office with twenty somethings, I can guarantee that after the initial protests and bad-mouthing, more than half the people will be singing along under their breath when they think nobody’s watching.
And I could sing along to all the songs. I still can. If you play a BSB song out loud in any office with twenty somethings, I can guarantee that after the initial protests and bad-mouthing, more than half the people will be singing along under their breath when they think nobody’s watching.
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The Backstreet Boys were addictive. They were an essential part of growing up. I was a dumb kid. I didn’t know what was cool. The songs were catchy and I could remember the lyrics and sing along and everyone I knew liked them. (Wait, I’m getting to the point. Sheesh.)
The point is (See, that wasn’t so bad now, was it?) the Backstreet Boys were heralded as great musicians in their time. And even the smartest, coolest people I knew subscribed to their awesomeness.
The Backstreet Boys were addictive. They were an essential part of growing up. I was a dumb kid. I didn’t know what was cool. The songs were catchy and I could remember the lyrics and sing along and everyone I knew liked them. (Wait, I’m getting to the point. Sheesh.)
The point is (See, that wasn’t so bad now, was it?) the Backstreet Boys were heralded as great musicians in their time. And even the smartest, coolest people I knew subscribed to their awesomeness.
They were like the Mozart of our generation.
Of course, a few short years after the craze had died down, the majority attempted to erase BSB and the boy band phenomenon from their collective memory using the Beatles, Floyd, Oasis, Led Zep, Metallica, Dylan, the Stones etc. The rest turned into child molesters and Radio Jockeys, but let’s not go there.
(Here’s a little something to blow the Boy Bands out off your ass. Literally).
(Here’s a little something to blow the Boy Bands out off your ass. Literally).
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Now, I suspect the same thing is happening with Justin Beiber.
While we, the cool grown-up people sneer at the Beliebers, (This is what Justin Beiber fans call themselves. No, it’s still not legal to assault them with blunt objects.) we ourselves were at one time victims of a similar craze. And mass media’s much huger these days, so these poor kids are sucked into this miasma of shame unwittingly.
You can be sure that, 10 years from now, they’ll burning (Or Shift+ deleting off Facebook, which is more likely.) the pictures of themselves with Bieber hair, assuming deep voices, growing beards and bulging muscles behind their ears, riding big bikes, eating the heads of live bats, and swearing that they never followed that disgusting fad.
Who knows, Justin Bieber may just reinvent himself like Justin Timberlake and survive. (I hope he doesn’t, because I want to be able to hate him for a long time)
So have a heart. Don’t write off those disgusting little children from the ‘90s just yet.
And while we’re waiting for them to change, let’s hope someone, someday, will get Bieber to do this.
Now, I suspect the same thing is happening with Justin Beiber.
While we, the cool grown-up people sneer at the Beliebers, (This is what Justin Beiber fans call themselves. No, it’s still not legal to assault them with blunt objects.) we ourselves were at one time victims of a similar craze. And mass media’s much huger these days, so these poor kids are sucked into this miasma of shame unwittingly.
You can be sure that, 10 years from now, they’ll burning (Or Shift+ deleting off Facebook, which is more likely.) the pictures of themselves with Bieber hair, assuming deep voices, growing beards and bulging muscles behind their ears, riding big bikes, eating the heads of live bats, and swearing that they never followed that disgusting fad.
Who knows, Justin Bieber may just reinvent himself like Justin Timberlake and survive. (I hope he doesn’t, because I want to be able to hate him for a long time)
So have a heart. Don’t write off those disgusting little children from the ‘90s just yet.
And while we’re waiting for them to change, let’s hope someone, someday, will get Bieber to do this.
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Francis Thomas now lives in constant fear of Beliebers thronging to his house. But you can read more of his awesomeness Here.
