They've changed clothes. Sort of. They're in casual tops and the patchwork pants. That looks odd. JC looks particularly stupid. Like a gay preppy clown. Yeah. Odd. They insist that we clap our hands and come on! Justin tells JC to sing. JC does.
At the beginning of Justin's verse, we're treated to a long, drawn-out crowd shot. One of the young ladies is having an excellent time singing along. Her chewing gum sparkles whitely in the back of her mouth.
NSYNC- it's just a better class of fan.
Chris does a random backflip. I hate him. I want to do that. They jump around. JC jumps insanely, unnecessarily high. He's going to snap his neck off, yo. Chris and Justin patrol the stage, adjuring us babies to say "sync" when they say "n". Okay then. However, they tire of this quickly, and all run over and stand on the ramp at the side of the stage. Lance doesn't know what to do with his hands. He looks like a dork. That might be because he is one. Joey spreads his arms, welcoming any and all legal chicks on the Pill to hit him up after the show.
They run off the ramp. Joe and Lance run up on the bridge thing. JC, Justin and Chris are allowed to head down to the actual stage.
Are they making some sort of separatist statement? Hmmm.
The song ends with a random sax solo.
You know that was JC's idea.
The house lights go down as they leave the stage. Will they come back? Is there a blackout in NYC? The suspense is killing me!
Oh… hang on… they're faking us out! 'Cause Justin comes strutting out onto the stage all by his lonesome.
"Prepare yourself," he says, "it's the human beatbox."
You know… I wonder why we're supposed to prepare ourselves. For what? And, how would we do these preparatory-type things, anyway? How does one prepare for a human beatbox?
Confusing. Best not to think too much about it, I suspect.
He starts boxin'. He does odd things with his hands, pretending to scratch records, I think. Not sure. It could be Tourette's.
He bounces and swivels and thrusts as he boxes. The girls go wild. Estrogen clouds the air and fathers leave, coughing and crying, distraught at the sight of their young daughters ovulating for the very first time. Older girls are, unbeknownst to themselves, having their biological clocks reset, and will, for months afterwards, menstruate in perfect synch.
Justin wanders the stage, sending randomized shout-outs to all his people over heah… and heah… and down heah…
He tells the piano to hit him. He gets in a fight with the drummer. You've seen it all before. His hips are, yeah, fluid, I guess. The reaction is astonishing. I think, quite honestly, that if Justin were to be so stupid as to leap down into the audience mid-beatbox, he would get gang-raped. That's the level of sexual tension pouring off the crowd.
There are a few mockworthy moments where Justin channels Lance and gets all flamey. He does a few little salsa-esque steps. It's very strange. The crowd still loves him, though. Of course they do. He's Timber-Timber-Timberlake.
It's over. The other NSYNCers come out. Justin ducks backstage for a second, but is back in time for….
IT'S GONNA BE MAY
This song has, straight up, the coolest fucking choreography in the world. It's just fantastic. I am distracted by the fact that Justin's knees are soaking wet, however. I keep looking at the big wet spots.
Whiteboyz sweat in weird places.
The other lads have changed their clothes. Lance, normal. Joey, weird… dragon-type embroidery on his shirt, and his pants had a bleach disaster, but, okay. Chris has sweatbands around his forearms. Huh. Not his wrists, mind you, his forearms. JC, in a sleeveless (But of course!) shirt and camo pants, almost manages to look hot, but ruins it by over-emoting.
There's more fab choreography! There's pyro! JC hits a sour note or two! Whee! JC runs towards the front of the stage! Oh my GOD! He's going to fall off! Oh! He stopped just in time. You really had me going there, Chasez.
Moron.
I haven't got much to say. Like the song. Love the choreography. Was this that Darren Henson dude? I can't remember. Anyway, props to whoever is responsible. Damn cool.
House lights go down again and come back up on… a lovely living room set! A couch, two chairs, and a lamp with the plastic still on the shade.
NSYNC- it's just a better class, period.
I DRIVE MYSELF CRAZY
Chris comes out through the drapes at the back of the stage, gets up on the couch, and tells us that they're going to do a few, a couple of, a few slow songs, now, and, dude, you should totally feel free to sing along.
They are so fucking generous. I can't believe it. We can sing along? Really? Don't tease. Really? Thank you, Fuman. Thank you.
Lance comes out. The screams are slightly louder than they were for Chris. Lance puts on a jacket. How could he possibly be cold? JC comes out. BIG SCREAMS.
Justin comes out. Chris is drowned out. No one notices Joey enter.
I bet Chris fucking hated Justin at that moment.
Chris gets His Verse. Can I admit something? I hate Chris' voice. I feel bad about that. I know! I'm losery. But, I hate it. It's screechy and annoying. It's not pleasant to listen to. If forced to choose, I guess I'd prefer to listen to Justin sing all the time, then JC, then Lance, then Joey, then Chris. Sorry, little guy. Chris struts to the front of the stage. He looks very small! I'm sad.
Justin goes out to the front of the stage for his verse, too. He throws in a cha-cha-cha step or two. What the fuck! Flamer. Lance, he's taking your niche, son.
JC stays on the couch for his verse. JC doesn't love the crowd. I'm telling you.
Joey looks extremely serious. Like he's concentrating really hard. What a doofus! Lance looks really relaxed, yeah, doing some singing, it's all good, wonder what's on TV later.
JC adds a random jazz riff to the end of the song. YAWN. Leave it to the professionals, Frenchboy! No one cares, got that?
I THOUGHT SHE KNEW
Justin and Joe don't feel the crowd is loud enough. Joey takes this personally, seeing as how it's his hometown and all. Finally satisfied with the noise washing over them, Justin natters on… and on… and on… about how, when they first started the group, they nevah evah evah in their wildest dreams expected it to go this fah.
I don't CARE, Justin! Is this a spoken word performance? No! Dance, bitch!
Blah blah blah… finally he winds up his spiel and tells us that they're going to sing the first song they ever sang together… back in that nightclub in Orlando, when he was fourteen, remember? Yeah, that song.
They dedicate it to the lady who wrote it. I wonder why. Who's she sleeping with? Oh. That was mean. Sorry. Reflex!
I don't hate this song, precisely, but there's no choreography. I object to that. Plus, the screaming teens kind of detract from what should, theoretically, be nice acapella tune about… sap.
Joey has a verse in this one. Eh. Yeah. I don't dislike his voice as much as I dislike Chris'. But he tries too hard. I have a moment of feeling bad for him. Like, he never gets solo time, so when he does, he throws his heart and soul into it. It's not relaxing to listen to. I want him to loosen up, have some fun with it, not try to convince an audience that's only there to drool over Justin's ass that his voice is actually pure and trained and blah blah blah. But he tries, anyway.
I like mocking NSYNC. But I hate it when I feel bad for them.
So fuck you, Fatone. Sniffle.
Then they rush backstage and a portal into an alternate universe opens up. But not today. No more. (that closer (c) WD)
Onward to part III! (eh. coming soon-ish. really.)
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