Hanson

So, Monday night, my sister and I went to the Hanson concert in Seattle. My sister actually surprised me with the tickets, which was really, really cool of her.

It was a super exciting event because Hanson has not played in Seattle in 5 years. I was there the last time they came through, on the Underneath Acoustic Tour, in 2003. They are the best Best Band That Ever Lived.

It's weird to think that I have been listening to their music for 10 years now. I remember way back when Mmmbop first came out, and it was playing all over the radio. I thought it was some woman singing, and then I found out it was a boy, and I assumed he was black. And then I saw an article in the newspaper about the Hanson brothers, and how they were these amazingly talented young musicians who, at the ages of 9, 11, and 13, respectively, had written a song that would eventually hit #1 on the charts. Around the world. Beating out Michael Jackson, the King of Pop. I thought it was a cool article, and eventually I got around to buying their album, which I instantly loved.

I have so many memories tied up with this band. Road trips, work out mixes, a loop of songs playing so endlessly in the background of homework, art projects, chores, etc. that it became a soundtrack to my life. For me, there will never be a song as happy as Mmmbop, a song so capable of cheering me up, making me smile. I have listened to it while dancing all alone in my bedroom, while journaling, while daydreaming, while crying, or instead of crying. It's part of my memories, woven into the fabric of my life. The sort of song that whenever I hear it, a part of me says Oh. My song!

This was the most enjoyable Hanson concert I've been to, if not the most exciting. The first time, the band was still caught in the grip of teen mania, and although I loved being at the concert and hearing them play, I was really scared of the other girls in the audience. They were rabid and insane. There was a girl in a wheelchair who got a special spot all to herself in front of the stage, and even though she had these little toothpick legs and couldn't walk, everyone felt jealous of her because she was beautiful, with a tres chic haircut, and had a bumper sticker on the back of her wheelchair that said I Got Beat Up in the Hanson Mosh Pit. That bumper sticker was not a joke. During the concert, I saw a little girl in the row in front of me get punched in the eye by a much older girl who was probably in high school. And although a bouncer came over, the crowd was so thick, he couldn't get close enough to the high schooler to kick her out. (Also, he looked scared to get too close to us).

The second concert was better, but only because I was smart enough to stay out of pit. My sister and I stood on the second level and enjoyed the concert in relative peace. But it was incredibly loud and insane, and I still felt a little afraid of the rest of the audience.

This time around, we walked up to the Moore and were happy to see that for the first time there was no line stretching around the block. We could actually walk up to the doors with our tickets and go right in. Ishi got us awesome seats. They were in the balcony, so the view was excellent. It's such a small venue that no matter where you sit you're never very far from the stage, and we were second row, so we could see perfectly.

We clapped, we screamed, we sang along. It was another acoustic show, which was awesome, and they played quite a few brand new songs, but with a nice mix of old stuff, too. They seemed just like their same old selves, but at the same time older and more mature. It wasn't just that Zac had a 5 o'clock shadow, or that Isaac looked like his wife had dressed him (and he had by far the best outfit of the three), or that Taylor has gotten to be truly amazing at the piano. 5 years has done a lot. They more serious than before. They've done a lot of traveling, and seen a lot of things, and it's made them older. They are passionate about Africa, about trying to raise awareness of the AIDS epidemic. When they sang their song, Great Divide, you could tell they were trying to communicate to us, in the audience, some sense of the huge hurt in their hearts for the orphans they met, whose parents are dead and who are dying themselves by the thousands. How do you get a theater full of screaming girls to stop and think about orphans half a world away? And yet it was so plain in the band's faces and in their voices that they felt compelled to try. They had to do something to help.

The task is so huge, and so impossible. That, more than anything, I think, is what made the boys seem older. There was a determination, a seriousness, almost a sadness about them that I had never seen before. I could tell, when they walked out on stage, that they were nervous. Zac and Isaac didn't say a word in between the first two or three songs, and whenever Taylor spoke, he sounded sort of tense. But when they sang, they put all their heart and soul into it. At times the music felt so personal, like reading someone's diary.

When every eye is on the fortune

It can only breed contempt

They say blood is thicker than oceans

Still we box our brothers in

(From Great Divide)

And so I have to say that, exciting and exhilarating as the evening was, to me it all felt permeated with a subtle melancholy. I admire the Hansons because they want to change the world. They reach out to people who can give them nothing in return. They bare their hearts in front of girls who seem like they couldn't care less, and only want to lick the sweat off their faces. I admire them for standing up, for trying to make a difference, for even taking a stab at a problem so huge that its solution is beyond fundraising, beyond money, beyond the whole scope of human endeavor.

I think, despite all their insistence on hope conquering all, they sense the futility of it, too. Because for the first time, that night, I heard them sing a couple of songs in pretty, three-part harmony about their faith in God, and their hope for things to change. An almost-acknowledgement of their own defeat. It was a new direction for Hanson, and it made me feel like crying. If only, if only they knew the truth! They wouldn't have to hurt and struggle any more over problems they can't fix, and children they can't save.

I went out in service the next day with a fresh perspective on my ministry. Because I can make a difference in the world. And I owe it to all the people like Isaac, Taylor, and Zac, to tell the truth and to share my hope.

And what do you know? I found a girl named Rachel sitting on her front steps, who wonders if she can ever feel close to God. I'll do my best for her, and hope that someone, somewhere, has a chance to do their best for the Hansons. They deserve it.