Defend its Existence

New Kids on the Block

by Caralyn Green

Everything old is new again. 90210. Pegged jeans. New Kids on the Block.

Beantown’s tough-hanging boys are back, all right (or was that the Backstreet Boys?). After years of going their own ways—Jonathan pursued real estate; Donnie became a semi-successful character actor; Joey and Jordan dwelled on the dream; Danny did who knows what—the New Kids have released a revamped version of their already out there Greatest Hits in anticipation of the early-September release The Block. The Block is the New Kids’ first studio album in 14 years, and frankly no one gives a damn.

Amazon will try to get you to by it touting the New Kids’ “recent appearance on the Today Show’s summer concert series, [which] drew one of the biggest crowds the network has seen for such a show.” Reality check: The masses were not in hysteria over new New Kids music. We could care less. We’re into this revival thing for pure nostalgia, and nothing more. Give us more of what we know and love and we’re happy as Tiffany at the mall. Give us new New Kids songs and we have no idea what to feel other than confusion as to why 40-year-old men are still calling themselves “kids” and trying to woo the same demographic that’s drawn to those Jonas Jesus-freaks.

Other than the singles “Summertime” and “Single,” I have no idea what The Block sounds like, and y’know what? I plan to keep it that way. I’m not interested in destroying the memory. In my mind, New Kids is the singularly most talented act out there. Their genius and dimples warrant total devotion—sleeping bags, Barbie dolls, lunchboxes, daydreams and doodles in the back row of Mrs. Sunderman’s third-grade classroom.

It’s that dedication that’ll get grown-up girls to download Greatest Hits and blare “Step By Step” and “You Got It (The Right Stuff)” for liquored-up friends on a Saturday night. I’m not convinced this same audience—or our boy-band-susceptible successors—is going to shell out for an album of unfamiliar songs by a bunch of laugh-lined dudes who used to be a big deal. Sometimes everything old is just, well, old.