You know, it must be hard being a boy band. No critics take boy bands seriously, unless you count those critics of teen magazines, and they don’t count because we know once they criticize a boyband their readers will desert them in droves. Boybands are dotting the music scene like pimples on a 12 year old but one thing I know, Backstreet Boys are a bit better than many pretty boys out there.
Well, I must say Millennium isn’t a bad album. Not that it is a good album either. Oh, the production is solid, polished like a new diamond, and I’m sure their fans will lap us this album. However, they sing with even less emotion than an anesthetized patient before surgery.
The best song is definitely I Want It That Way, a very catchy poppy song about lament and love drifting apart. Coming close is the Latin-tinged Show Me the Meaning of Being Lonely, which is a rather gentle but way too cheesy piece if there ever is one. The rest of the album is unfortunately crammed with forgettable ballads and throwaway dance beats.
Well, how should I start with this? Well, most of the vocals belong to that obnoxious Nick Carter instead of Brian Littrell, a pity as Mr Carter screeches as if someone was drilling his… back with an electric drill while he is trying to get the tune. An otherwise pleasant ballad I Need You Tonight is massacred by him because he sings without conviction and with nary an emotion. His bandmates aren’t any better, with the exception of Mr Littrell for they seem like going through the motions of making an album without any committed feel to it.
This album sounds like it’s being cranked out by singing machines. The lads are like robots, I’m afraid, singing and dancing robots Issac Asimov would be proud to put in his novels. But for me, I’d give this a spin and forget all about it in a week. Which is a pity as those boys seem like nice people on their acknowledgements in the CD booklet, thanking God and their family so sweetly. And The Perfect Fan, their tribute to their mothers, is quite sweet.