Remember when Don Draper is pitching his idea for the Kodak Carousel in season one of Mad Men? He clicks through the slides of old images showing his life, and says these words: "In Greek, nostalgia literally means the pain from an old wound. It's a twinge in your heart, far more powerful than memory alone."
Got a perm that year.
The last time I saw the New Kids on the Block was with my mom, who probably took me to at least ten of their concerts when I was in middle school. She would drive for hours in all sorts of weather to get me there, she allowed me to plaster my walls and ceiling with their photos torn out from magazines, she watched every television show appearance they had with me, and never complained about hearing their songs over and over again in the car. I have absolutely no items, no earthly possessions from this era in my life anymore—I haven't seen any part of it with my own eyes in a long time. Before last night it had probably been 24 years since my last NKOTB concert, and it's been almost 13 years since my mom died.
The invite to a private, intimate concert with them brought a whole range of emotions because there is no way to untie this band from my relationship with my mom. Part of me didn't want to go, since it would mean seeing them without her—but the awkward, shy pre-teen who barely talked, had fewer than a handful of friends, and spent hours alone staring up at photos of these five guys insisted on going. Plus I'm a complete sucker for anything even remotely resembling a full circle moment (the only thing that could have made this more full circle is if they had accepted my interview request, which they did not).
Donnie was my fave, then Joey. (Photos by Jen Carlson/Gothamist)
But throwing yourself into your past like this is completely jarring. Last night, after about four glasses of wine, I walked into a tiny venue for the concert. The same fans were there that were there 24 years ago, the same five guys were there on stage, the same songs were performed (in between some new material). The same Z100 deejay, Elvis Duran, was even there. In this room nothing had really changed—Jonathan is still shy (he actually left the show half through and didn't return), Donnie is still goofy, Danny still looks like he doesn't totally want to be there, Joey has the same half-cocked smile and quick wit that only comes from being the runt of the family... and Jordan has seemingly not aged a day in all of this time. It actually makes you wonder if deals with the devil are possible after all.
Prior to playing the hits, Donnie addressed the audience about the nostalgia factor, which took quick turns from cute to sad to sort of ... Chippendales-esque: "You stand in line for us like we Cabbage Patch Kids. We love you, too. We don't want it to end. I don't know if we ever thought we'd be here again... But we're not ready to go back in time unless you guys are ready to go back in time. You gotta let your hair down now... you gotta mess up that pretty little dress... you might even wanna to kick those heels off..."
There were loud, guttural screams from the audience demanding them to "TAKE IT ALL OFF!" And even if they smiled while teasing open their blazers, there was a very real sense that in their heads, more than ever, they were thinking: "I'm too old for this shit." (Or maybe that was just some transference on my part.) There's a desperation that the band now seems to share with the audience, but they handle it with some real grace and professionalism.
While all the white-knuckling in the world can't make time stand still or bring you back to the awkward pre-teen years you hated then but at times nostalgically pine for now... re-enacting the past flawlessly, as NKOTB do, can invoke it briefly and palpably. And whoever your NKOTB are, I'd recommend opening the old wound back up like this. Woooo, TOTALLY WORTH IT. DONNIE 4EVA, etc.
