By the bedazzled look in their eyes, the milk-and-cookies wholesomeness to the youngsters in Hanson seemed nothing less than an almost blushing of politeness in its giddy pop crafts, so carelessly carefree as to lack any attitude whatsoever. And it sounded Monday, for lack of a better word, quaint.
This hasn’t exactly been the cutesy Tulsa trio’s year: Once the guys rebirthed teen pop with “Mmm Bop,” their newfound maturity on the recently released “This Time Around” has actually put them at odds with an audience grown accustomed to boy bands recycling the same record on a yearly basis. Coming into its fall tour, “This Time Around” had sold 7.5 million copies less than its predecessor, ’97’s “Middle of Nowhere,” and the bluesier pop of the Brothers Hanson–guitarist Zac, keyboardist Taylor, drummer Zak–has all but alienated the group from its Top 40 roots.
If its Chicago Theatre performance was any indication, however, the brothers survive–maybe even prosper–from the dying hoopla and a more intimate venue. Certainly they’re still short on material on par with the heritage of the family bands they seek to emulate–Jackson 5 and the Beach Boys–but they’re still piercing together better melodies than artists twice their age, in the throws of puberty no less.
Much of Hanson’s strength is in its own apparent affection for guilty pleasure pop music; this is a band with a great deal of knowledge of blues, R&B and classic rock, yet it faithfully returns to sugar-coated hooks. Songs, particularly “Lucy” and “If Only,” were centered around simple major chord struts and meticulous harmonies; even an a cappella finale of “This Time Around” showed the blond-locked siblings’ considerable deft at layering its vocals.
That said, the pleasures of this band come in sweet, sticky bites, something the trio’s excessive revue–some 25 songs, six of which were covers–seemed to overcook often. The idol worship in particular was ill-conceived: The choices were far too safe (“You Can’t Always Get What You Want”), largely predictable (Janis Joplin’s “Piece of My Heart”) and all too often stiff, especially since they were used to start (“Gimmee Some Lovin'”) and finish (“Magic Carpet Ride”) the performance.
Yet there was a certain playfulness exuded upon messing up “Money”–they are, remember, just kids–and they imbued “Love Song” and “Runaway Run” with a colorful innocence, even as they subtly gave “Mmm Bop” a slightly rougher sheen. It may not have been all that much to sink into, but the sprightly hooks sure tasted good going down.
