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Hanson fueled the fires
of kiddie pop We've been through enough Britneys, 'N Syncs and Lil Bow Wows at this point that you probably have to tax your brain to recall just how weird the summer of '97 felt. You're forgiven if you can't quite conjure the old sensation; seven years, after all, is several eons in the MTV-paced cycle of pop culture. But try to remember the first time you heard "MMMBop" on the radio, or the second time you heard it and could already hum along, or the moment you learned that Hanson was a trio of young brothers whose drummer was 11 years old. As with the out-of-the-"Blue"
success enjoyed a few months earlier by LeAnn Rimes, who stormed the charts
at a tender 13, it was easy to chalk up the brothers Hanson as a one-shot
novelty -- a quick, quirky phenomenon offering light relief among the
Pearl Jams, Puff Daddys and other heavy hitters. It was an onslaught of teen music now so familiar we take it for granted: featherweight pop made for young people, by young people. Seven years ago, it was a novelty. Today it's the way of the pop world. This week's Billboard singles chart is a typical modern hit parade, with 23 of the top 30 spots held down by artists no older than 25. In metro Detroit this week,
things come full circle, as Hanson makes a Friday comeback appearance
at the State Theatre, one night after bubblegum sensation Hilary Duff,
all of 16, plays the Palace of Auburn Hills. Isaac, Taylor and Zac Hanson didn't start anything. They just got there first, providing an undeniable signal: The biggest and richest teen generation in the world's history had arrived. Call them Gen Y, the millennials, the echo boomers. By whatever name, there were 60 million of them, and they hit the cultural scene with a force, reinventing fashion, creating new stars monthly -- and spending lots and lots of cash. The bubblegum blitz was overwhelming, provoking a vocal backlash from artists like Eminem and Kid Rock and forcing even hip grown-ups to retreat into a corner where demure artists like Norah Jones and Josh Groban could provide a respite. For those irritated by today's
lip-synced, airbrushed, choreographed state of affairs, the biggest frustration
is what could have been. With the arrival of Gen Y, a new crop of young
pop was inevitable. The disappointment is that Hanson, the one that got
there first, was the last to do what it did: play rock 'n' roll. Isaac recalls his band's breakout heyday with mixed emotions. "Looking back, I take it with a grain of salt. But I took it with a grain of salt then, too," he says. "It comes and goes so quickly, and we knew that. You can never put too much significance into it. You just have to be yourself and make music you feel from your gut, and hopefully your audience will respond. The unfortunate thing is there are some people who never understood who we are." As a unit, the trio has gotten tighter with time, Isaac says, with drummer Zac having grown into a muscular, agile pounder. "His backbeat over the years has only gotten deeper," says Isaac. "His pockets have gotten so deep, he can taste the lint." The organic "Underneath" showcases that growth, both in songwriting and performance. But will people listen? Was Hanson doomed by its very success -- or even more cruelly, by its association with groups whose music was truly trifling? "I'll be totally clear
about it," says Isaac, voice stiffening. "I was totally offended
when people said we were like 'N Sync. I've got nothing against them.
I know those guys. But comparing us was lame. It was apples and oranges."
"You used to have grazing herds of media consumers, and you could follow them -- you could lump them together," says Mike Bentley, an executive vice president with Detroit ad firm J. Walter Thompson. "Now we've gone through a process of media atomization where it's almost impossible to hit a group of young people consistently and reliably. It's as if we've given them a diktat that they should choose from the broadest range of options." Like others who study this stuff for a living, Bentley sees a world in which popular music has lost the communal power it once commanded -- and he places some of the blame at the feet of a record industry that has turned more than ever into a manufacturing business. "As you see more music that has less depth, less intrinsic worth, where it's about who's going to be next big thing for the next 10 minutes, you realize that in the long term that's a short-term strategy. One thing technology has done has made music more disposable." Isaac Hanson isn't interested in chatting about marketing science. He just maintains a single aim for his band -- a goal he says was around long before Hanson helped kick off a revolution. "In a phrase: I always hope it keeps getting better," he says. "When we were young guys, there was a certain thought process in some people's heads that, 'Oh, this is a novelty.' What's really important is that all we ever were was a band. And all we ever wanted to be was a band." Contact BRIAN McCOLLUM at 313-223-4450
or mccollum@freepress.com.
Originally published @: http://www.freep.com/entertainment/music/hanson29_20040729.htm |