Shows: The Bash at the Base - Groton Sub Base, Groton, CT; Pro92 Birthday Bash - Providence Civic Center, Providence, RI

In attendance: Corinne, Stefanie, Meghan, Amanda, me

Number of times lost between Corinne's house and Groton, CT: 3

Number of acts at Groton: 6

Number of acts at Providence: 7

Number of acts we stayed for at Groton: 4

Number of acts we stayed for at Providence: 6

Number of bands seen twice in one day: 4

Number of bands seen twice in one day that we wouldn't have wanted to see once in one day: 3

Number of acts assisted by backing tracks that included vocals at both shows: 2 (We left before Mandy Moore at RI, so that's up for debate at this point.)

We traveled two hours. We left at 8:00 in the morning. We made great time coming out of Boston, not to mention the fact that the ride out of Jamaica Plain was beautiful. We're talking miles of rediculously nice houses along shady avenues. I had to ask myself once or twice if I was still in Boston.

We arrive at the base after suspiciously few navigational problems. What do we see? The most unquestionably low class concert setup any of us had ever seen. The carnival at the end of Grease was more impressive. A field. Concession stands. A small stage. All of it in an area smaller than a football field. Our thought? Wow, this is what happens when your album peaks at 19 on the Billboards, huh?

We waited at the gate with gaggles of Hanson fans (identified by the characteristic sharpie markings on their faces) in the sun and proceeded to get nasty sunburns, even with SPF 30. After an hour of chatter in which we all agreed that a) I was over-dressed, b) none of us wanted to see Westlife twice in one day and c) we would have to cheer extra-loudly to drown out the probable booing for Hanson, we were let onto the field. Then, in the kind of behavior that typifies the Hanson/Moffatts/Nsync/Westlife/5ive/A-team/BBMack/Boyzone fan base, all of the little girls crunched themselves against the stage in an attempt to love their idols from the closest distance possible. And in their equally typical, hairy, condescending, impatient manner, the radio station guys yelled at them to move back. It was already shaping up to be a fine day.

• BBMack: Three boys. Two guitars. Neither of which were plugged in. One backing track. A hack radio-station sound equipment team. Several thousand screaming teenies. A recipe for disaster? You bet your boots. They lip-synch their songs with astounding accuracy and the crowd goes wild. Too bad the tape went nuts at the beginning of their third song. All of a sudden they were waving their arms yelling things like, "Stop! Take two! Let's try that again!" A Milli Vannilli moment for the ages. And they haven't even been on TRL yet. Not a bad way to start a career.
• Train: They're good. They're jammy. Their lead singer wears purple velvet pants all the time and waggles around a lot. They do a neato cover of Ramble On. They don't thrill me too much. Yup. Moving right along...
• Westlife: Five boys. Indecipherable Irish accents. 75% Nick Carter and 25% Abercrombie model. These guys are so bland, they're not even brave enough to have a token ugly one. They're all exceedingly clean-cut, beefy and blond. And they don't dance. They don't even like... Backstreet Boys dance. (Read: creative placement of arms) They sort of appropriately position their bodies in time with the music. I mean, I'm not a fan of boybands in general, but at least Nsync busts a rump up there. Joey Fat One included, and don't tell me he's a naturally gifted dancer. I'd love to comment on their singing ability, but I had trouble finding it through the fifteen layers of recorded filler vocal.

• The crowd: Generally positive, with one group of honking, snorting, abusive dissenters right near the front who put themselves there specifically to boo Hanson. Hi. My name is Billy Bob and I need a better sense of self-worth so that I don't have to pick on Hanson to distract myself from my own set of inadequecies.
• Us: Sweating, imaptient, sunburned, squished, nervous, light-headed
• They came out onto the stage and my stomach flipped. I mean, we hadn't seen them perform since Albertane. They were... well... holy freaking beautiful. Zac wore his slightly-scary but otherwise attractive butterscotch leather pants and a random whimsical t-shirt. Ike looked lovely in a cotton, button down, undoubtedly high thread-count white shirt. (Wifebeater peeking out at the collar. Way too sexy for words.) His jeans looked nice, minus the hole in the back pocket, but that just adds to the aw shucks cuteness value. Taylor... well... Fashion Disaster is too kind a phrase, really. Jean shorts. (Knobby knees. Very knobby.) Wifebeater. Oddly colored blazer. Belt with large silver buckle. Sandals. Aviator sunglasses. Did Zac trip and break the one mirror on the tour bus or something? But oh la, the irony. He looked awesomely attractive. Between all of that flawless dewy skin and the shagged-out hair and the sunglasses, he looked... like a rock star. Can't ask for more than that, right?
• They did a four song accoustic set. (Sure About It, If Only, Wish That I Was There and Mmmbop.) They sounded most excellent, as usual. (Well, there was the small matter of Ike entirely flubbing some of the chords at the end of Mmmbop, but it was sort of real and charming and heck, proof that his guitar was plugged in. Matters such as that tend to be up in the air when people like BBMack play.) All of those sunny harmonies are as tight, if not tighter than ever. Zac attacks those high notes with some serious gusto, surprising given the fact that his voice is changing and doing weird boy things at the moment.
• Ike looked a tad cranky, aiming a few pointed (Maybe. Matters such as that tend to be open for interpretation.) comments at Zac. Or maybe he was just in "business" mode. Whatever the case, it was good to see, in a twisted kind of way. I mean, if they were just jolly happy campers through every minute of this, I'd worry.
• Zac played with a maracca instead of the shaker balls. Pointless, yet noteworthy detail.
• Best moment of the set: Taylor, in an attempt to "hype" up the crowd and be his usual spokemodel self, has the crowd sort of wave their hands around. He points to one side of the stage and says, "Hey, you guys really know how to do this." (Knowing glance. Wink.) He turns to the nasty ugly dissenters, points to them and says something akin to, "You guys over here aren't so good at this." Ouch. That's gotta hurt. Score one for Blondie.
• Then they bowed and said thank you. Taylor grabbed a couple of hands in the front row because he does stuff like that. Then they left and the teenie exodus began. The whole place cleared out. Including us. Aw shucks. We missed Billy Meyers.

Exhaused, smelly and hoarse, we drove an hour back to Providence and what promised to be a better/longer/classier gig at the Civic Center. And we were right. Lots and lots of Hanson fans showed, all bearing signs and t-shirts and other types of affirmation.

So, at the risk of sounding like an absolute loser, I'll say the following with confidence: Walker Hanson is rediculously attractive. We wandered around the building and found ourselves on a landing that overlooks the backstage area where the busses are parked. Out of one walks... Dad Hanson. And suddenly you don't know what to do. Pictures suddenly seem unquestionably inapropriate, but goodness, does your hand ever reach for that button. Why? Well heck, here's a human being with Isaac's walk, Zac's eyes and Taylor's smile. Makes a person a little flustered, you know? Anyway...

The boys came out of the bus. Zac came out holding a bottle of Gatorade. Isaac came out. They walked by quickly, gave smiles of recognition and disappeared into the building. People screamed. Then, Wonder Boy comes out in his dorky shorts. Naturally, Taylor Schmaylor gets the longest, loudest and most blood curdling among them. He gets out of the bus. He waves. He smiles. Everything short of a tap dance. Gotta love the boy. What am I doing while this is happening? Looking down at the top of his head, completely fascinated by the vivid streaks of yellow in his hair. They're wonderous. Yep.

• BBMack (Again. The dude actually played his guitar this time, which was... impressive?)
• Westlife
• Train
• Hanson
• Bon Jovi
• The Goo Goo Dolls
• Mandy Moore

• The Bon Jovi-loving girls directly behind us who were fond of beer, teased hair and the f-word.
• The woman ten rows back with... Jonny Reznick's haircut.
• The girls with the "Hanson are Bangable" sign.
• The woman in the bathroom who classified Hanson's music as "weak," and nearly started a rumble with another woman who contended that it was indeed not.
• The security guard at the Westin Hotel who laughed at Corinne really hard when she told him she was going to see Hanson.
• Anyone who took it upon themselves to wear a backless tank top.
• Every drunken moron who booed Hanson, only to find themselves either a) drowned out by the fans or b) really enjoying the Hanson set.
• The woman at the mall who saw the sunburn on Stefanie's face and approached her wanting to know if she was "OK." (Note: How to tell who was at the Groton concert? Check for burnt cheeks and hairlines.)

• You Don't Know
• If Only
• This Time Around
• Where's the Love
• Mmmbop
• In the City

Let me say something right now. I love Hanson. I would go to a Hanson concert to watch the three of them stand on the stage with their arms folded, doing nothing for 40 minutes. It's unconditional. Now, that being said, I'll say this: Hanson, as much as they were always magnificent song writers, had a live show that was cool, yes, but not mind-blowingly dynamic. They'd come out, sing a song, say "The next song is..." and play the song, so on and so fourth. My, how times change.

I don't know what happened. I don't know if they took Performance Technique 101. I don't know if the record company sat them down and gave them the "Well boys, now that you're competing with the boybands..." speech. I don't know if they've grown up and thus they've grown more confident. I don't know if Isaac has been to one too many Jonny Lang shows. Whatever it is, may they be brilliant enough to keep doing it. Ladies and ladies, Hanson, as a live band, has changed. Taylor, once chained to his keyboards, spent much of the set running across the stage, not unlike a gazelle. He ran. He bounced. He played the harmonica. Hair flying in every direction, he jumped on speakers, he played to the crowd, he nearly lost his pants several times (Light gray cotton briefs. Not that I noticed.) and most of all, he looked like he was having quite the time doing it.

And then there's Isaac. Oh my. Isaac was hot. Now, I'm not just talking Isaac was hot by Isaac standards. Isaac was hot by anybody standards. Isaac was hot by Taylor standards. He and Taylor seemed to feed of of each other's energy, inspiring Isaac to hop up on speakers himself. The boy is suddenly bursting with this newfound inexplicable self-confidence. Chalk it up to the haircut, but he was right at the edge of the stage for his solos, brimming with enough moody rock star poses and guitar faces to scare any member of Westlife out of their cargo pants. And Zac? He smiled and played hard (His fingers were bandaged.) and interacted with Jason aka Sqirrel Man aka The Other Guitarist. Young Zac seems to not mind staying hidden behind his cymbals an focusing his energy there instead of out to the masses like his brothers.

If the old Hanson, the Hanson of number one singles and sold-out arenas was sitting pretty in their live shows and playing songs at their leisure, the new Hanson burns decidedly hot and rips it up. This ain't a game anymore, kids, and they know it. If they plan on winning new fans, keeping their tour, proving themselves as a legitimate live act, they know they have to work hard. And wow, what a treat it is for those of us who get to watch.

It was In the City that landed it for them, that pushed the energy level in the room up so high, Taylor nearly went tumbling into Isaac in an attempt at sharing the microphone with him. It was the kind of sweathy, euhporic stuff we always knew they had buried inside them somewhere. The final verdict? If this band doesn't get to tour, it will be a downright shame.

The new Hanson knows how to break a sweat, kids.