As you may have noticed, yesterday on Blogtown I was a bit... oh, shall we say... enthused about the upcoming Justin Bieber concert held last night at the Rose Garden. Was my enthusiasm dampened by the experience? Or was it just my nethers? HIT THE JUMP FOR MY REVIEW OF THE JUSTIN BIEBER CONCERT!
SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!
You know the sound a teakettle makes, right? Okay, now imagine 10,000 teakettles going off simultaneously, and you'll understand why I wisely took four Advils before the show even began. Seriously, those 10,000 little bitches were bordering on ruining my good time with their "squees." Besides when I "squee" it's at a much lower timbre, which not only made me stick out in the crowd, but also garnered me some fairly snotty looks from others in my section. But fuck 'em— I was there to have a good time, and for the most part I did.
The show opened with a set from Sean KIngston, who was like whatever, and okay I guess. He does sing that one song "Eenie, Meenie" which is delightfully terrible and catchy, so... there's that.
NOW ON TO JUSTIN! Naturally the Garden went batshit bazonkers when JB entered, and he cruised through a set of his greatest hits without fucking them over too much (HELLO MADONNA). Justin possesses passable hiphop dancing skills, and only occasionally lipsynched (usually while exhibiting his passable hiphop dancing skills). Now, as many of you already know, Justin's singing ability is "EHHH" at best. Seriously, he might crack the top ten during your average season of American Idol. As Randy Jackson might say, "I dunno, dawg. Your voice was kinda pitchy. I wasn't feelin' it."
However, it is wildly unfair to compare the Bieb to a total pop package like Justin Timberlake, who is incapable of doing anything badly. Das Bieb is a product of the internet—YouTube precisely—where years of training (like Timberlake's boot camp in the Mickey Mouse Club and with N*SYNC) is unnecessary. In fact, Bieber is YouTube—where we don't need it perfect... we just need it NOW.
What Bieber does have in spades is an utterly gawky charm—which he often exhibits by walking into glass doors—and while his onstage flirtations may come off as practiced, he's providing his audience (12-year-old girls, and certain well over 30-year-old enthusiasm enthusiasts) with exactly what they want: a safe, non-rapey boy who apparently believes in the romance Disney can no longer believably provide with their line of rubber-stamp princesses. He tells these gals to expect more from the boys in their lives—and that's not such a bad thing.
PLUS! He would occasionally take a break to change costumes and play videos of himself commenting on the dangers of driving while text messaging! And he showed tons of his adorable baby pictures (does this guy know what tweens want or what?). And when he sat on a huge heart-shaped steel structure and flew over the crowd serenading his girlfriend/fans on an acoustic guitar, I was like, "FUCK YOU, PUNK. Fuck you for knowing EXACTLY what I wish I had known at that age." Because I would've made out like a freaking bandit.
Definitely a show with some ups and downs, but all in all? When a crowd that large leaves a venue with smiles on their faces, unable to stop themselves from singing "Baaay-bee, baaay-bee, baaay-bee, OOOOH!" then that's a pretty good night at the Rose Garden. Undoubtedly by this time next year (maybe even in three months?) these gals (and probably me) will have outgrown and moved on from our Bieber Believer status. But for the moment? Justin Bieber will do.
