(NEW YORK) -- "Aren't you speechless?" the 12-year-old girl standing next to me inquired over the din of a sea of screaming teenage girls. The crowd, in most cases a decade my junior, were hellbent on attracting the attention of the three platinum-locked Midwestern boys onstage. |

I'm as jaded as the next 24-year-old, and I went into the show expecting the worst, hoping for a giggle and a hip jiggle at the start of "MMMBop," nothing more. But when a wave of sighs and screams moved in my direction, it was hard not to be swept up. For the wailing girls around me, this was their first rock band, their first love, their first concert. It was monumental.

I remembered the time my older sister was called onstage by Corey Hart and -- gasp! -- he kissed her in front of thousands. I was crushed he hadn't chosen me. Last night, every girl in the audience, with her "E-mail me" sign or her Hanson T-shirt, wanted to be called onstage and given the same.

But Hanson aren't just eye candy. They opened the 45-minute set with a cover of the Spencer Davis Group's "Gimme Some Lovin'", which was originally sung by then 17-year-old Stevie Winwood, who promptly forged his legendary career with Traffic, Blind Faith and as a solo performer.

Isaac Hanson, affectionately referred to as Ike, is also 17 (and in the painful position of undergoing puberty in the public eye). The message Hanson delivered through their intro explained in no uncertain terms that the young brothers are plotting a course similar to Winwood's. Their new album [3 Car Garage: The Indie Recordings '95-'96] hits the racks this month, and the trio has no plans of making an exodus from the spotlight anytime soon.

"Gimme Some Lovin'" dovetailed into Verlie Rice's "Shake a Tailfeather," another brilliant attempt by Hanson to introduce their teenage fans to the songs of the '60s. From that mini-medley, they launched into "Where's the Love," which had moms with pre-pubescent girls on their shoulders spinning during the chorus of "it makes the world go 'round and 'round." "Rhythm," an unmemorable tune that was muffled by the appalling acoustics of the ballroom, was followed by the new single, "Weird." The whole audience, parents and children alike, swayed along. Although the lyrics were difficult to make out, the facial expressions of those standing on their chairs made it obvious for anyone unfamiliar with the Hanson repertoire that this was a heartstring-yanker.

Of course, all of this -- as well as the rockin' "A Minute Without You" and "I Will Come to You" -- were merely warm-up for the song. And Hanson delivered; the band played their already timeworn teen classic so well, an "MMMBop" encore would have sounded good. Hanson's harmonies are pitch-perfect, they know how to play their instruments and, it's true, they can write an amazing hook. And just because their fans are mostly young, doesn't mean they're idiots -- they know a catchy, easy-on-the-ears pop song when they hear one.

The last song arrived as the energy of the room reached epic proportions. Everyone was screaming, dads were pulling cameras out of their sports coats to snap shots of the boys for their daughters, grown women were standing on their chairs, waving their arms. The alien anthem "Man From Milwaukee" rode on the crest of "MMMBop" -- though it hardly compared -- but that was no matter.

The girls were exploding with delight at what seemed to be their final glimpse of the holy trinity, and the cheering forced the genial boys to give them what they asked for: a truncated, a capella version of "Weird." As they sang, Hanson were a blond vision of consonance, each note perfectly balanced on its predecessor, each harmony in faultless tune. That last, unaccompanied minute perfectly exemplified the simplicity and talent that is Hanson. It was the cherry on top of this double-fudge-sundae of a show. (Heidi Sherman for Rolling Stone Network)