The Automatik

House of Blues
September 19, 2003

I’m looking for a song to sing
I’m looking for a friend to borrow
I’m looking for my radio
So I might find a heart to follow
-Hanson, “A Song to Sing”

Unadulterated snarkiness can make for a memorable show review. But in this case, there is no nasty, self-congratulatory irony. I have been proudly been a Hanson fan for several years, though I’ve had to convince many people that I was not only serious about it, but that the musicianship of the Hanson boys is genuine and awe-inspiring. When someone wearing a Charles Manson T-shirt can pass unnoticed or is considered cool, but someone wearing a Hanson T-shirt is viciously mocked, there is something dreadfully rotten in the state of this Union.

Unfortunately, many of the Hanson fans present at this show were completely annoying and embarrassing. But I won’t waste words on them here. Nothing, not even the ridiculous logjam in the parking lot after the show could dampen the dazzle of these outstandingly talented guys. There’s something about the three-part harmonies of brothers that’s special, and the Hanson version is as gorgeous as that of The Beach Boys, but with more soul. Unlike the Wilsons, however, Zac, Taylor, and Issac aren’t backstabbing drug addicts with deep-rooted psychological problems, and I doubt they ever will be, because as much as they’ve been (wrongly) dismissed as a “boy band,” they don’t seem to have succumbed to the evils of the music industry or catered to the fickle public.

When they came onstage, I found myself smiling uncontrollably, and gazing at them with younger sibling-style adoration. Last time I saw them, on the This Time Around tour, they were knee high to a Carson Daly. Taylor’s a husband now and a new father, and Isaac’s been legal for nearly three years. Musically speaking, they’ve also matured, and all three now play guitar, and Zac plays piano. In fact, I think the most delightful changes can be seen in Zac. He’s no longer the attention-grabbing kid with the goofy jokes and the long hair: his solo song, a stunning, Brian Wilson-esque piano number, evoked tears and goosebumps. That Peter Brady vocal puberty is gone, and has been replaced by a lovely and distinctive tone, one that sounds more like Taylor’s pretty soulfulness than Issac’s husky croon.

This tour, promoting their upcoming Underneath album, is being advertised as acoustic, and it is, but there’s nothing lightweight about it. Several numbers, like “Where Is the Love?” (from their first release, Middle of Nowhere), new song “Rock and Roll Razorblade,” and their incredible cover of Little Richard’s “Rip it Up,” had everyone dancing, clapping, and singing along, and you have to know how much I abhor cheesy crowd participation to grasp the impact their performance had on me. Hearing that Little Richard number made me feel the sensual rapture that kids in the ’50s, weaned on their parents’ Glenn Miller records, must’ve felt when they witnessed the birth of rock ‘n’ roll back in the day.

There were two other covers, a Ryan Adams tune, and Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young’s “Teach Your Children Well,” which obliterated me emotionally. I have never been able to hear that song without thinking of aging cokeheads or Freedom Rock Classic Radio, but I was spellbound by their perfect harmonies.

The new tunes are quite impressive, and show that, unlike Justin Timberlake, who must desperately wish he could have a voice as black and blues as Taylor’s, the Hanson brothers can actually write songs, ones that don’t rely on trendy videos, the approval of the RIAA, or six-pack abs. It’s difficult to explain how completely without pretension Hanson, and their music, are. They pump up the crowd with their I-can’t-hear-yous, but it and their unaffected camaraderie is unmistakable. This graciousness extends to everyone, as shown by the fact that we were all encouraged to “give it up for the crew.” I can’t remember, in all my years, ever hearing a band instruct a crowd to do that.

Their sound, while still retaining the R&B flavor that made them famous, show that these young men have expanded their musical influences, and that they are musicians as well as songwriters and performers. This is real music, the kind you don’t normally hear on the radio or MTV, and definitely not what’s going to be on the cover of SPIN or Alternative Press.

In the hipster wasteland of today’s alternative scene, I don’t know how this is going to be received. Sure, they’re good-looking and snappy dressers, but Hanson is nothing like anything that’s popular now, and they don’t need to stick to a color-coded clothing scheme to prove that they’ve got “it.” It’s sad when music this real and heartfelt isn’t hip, and is fact, so far removed from hip, that it may go completely overlooked by the very music fans that would appreciate it. I’m not sure if truly good music has become completely uncool yet, but if that is indeed the case, then Hanson are the biggest squares on the planet. Anyone who loves music, the kind that makes you weep and smile and swoon, the kind that makes you grateful that it exists, owes it to themselves to listen to Hanson.

One more thing about Hanson: they glow. Not like the crappy perfume that J.Lo uses her faux-ghetto booty to sell, I’m talking about the inner light of the truly gifted, the ones who believe in the power of music as a religious experience, and who care about something other than the Billboard charts. If that doesn’t make you want to hear Hanson’s music or see them perform live, then there’s a good chance that you’re soulless. And if you’re soulless, then brothers and sisters, you’d better pray that the afterlife has better radio stations than the ones we’ve got on this astral plane.