Boyz II Men II Grandpas

I saw Boyz II Men perform at the MGM in Boston the other night. Somehow I’m not engaged to any of the Boyz and am in fact still single and driving Uber. I’m just as surprised as you are.

Oh but the show was so good for the soul. I expected it would be, but I could not have imagined how restorative, how actually radical an act going to see a live performance of songs that colored all of my middle and high school years would be. At one point, Shawn Stockman told everyone to turn to the person on their left, and to the other on their right, and to tell them WE’RE GONNA HAVE A GREAT TIME TONIGHT. Which is the opposite of what we were all doing when we were swaying awkwardly at a junior high dance in a dusty gym to “On Bended Knee.” Restoration comes, sometimes three decades later.

The crowd looked like me, and by that I mean everyone in the crowd all once made mixtapes without a sense of irony. They all once called their home answering machine to see if their crush left them a message while they were out at the mall, eating Boardwalk Fries in the food court while their mom tried on shoes at Dillard’s. Or while their sister perused the stickers in Spencer’s Gifts. Or while their friend returned some flannel boxers to the Gap. The venue was filled with a diversity of people of every size, shape, color, and no doubt creed but we were all paying homage to the religion that was Motown Philly in the early 90s, when life wasn’t ruled by cellphone ringtones but rather by smoooooove riddems.

Boyz II Men lost its bass along the way, and I don’t mean they lost him to the grave or anything so dramatic. I just understand he no longer performs with the group. Still, the remaining trio were still strong performers. They were all still in great shape, they danced well, they sounded amazing.

Also, they were so unbelievably dorky. And I loved them for it. Because the songs they were singing were largely syrupy ballads, but they all still held up. They were never singing just about young love and fading crushes. They were always musicians with sophisticated vocal abilities. But the trio also weren’t putting out new songs, or doing new things. They were still trotting out “End of the Road” knowing there were no new roads to begin traveling. They had no ego about who they were, and why they mattered to all these Gen Xers gathered together for such a time as this. At the end of the show, the Boyz just lingered on stage. They didn’t need to sprint off to convince us all they were Tokyo-bound tomorrow morning. They just shook hands and slapped skin with the fans who had kept them crooning all these years.

They owned that this musical canon was their bread and butter and it endeared them to people around the world. I think that’s beautiful. They kept making jokes about everyone in the building needing to sit down, or not having the agility to clap, and how they didn’t have anything better to do for the next 33 years so they might as well do this. They all looked foiiiiine, so, trust, I still don’t know why they played up their elderly status. I also still don’t understand how I went home without at least one BoyzIIMan, but there are still a few weeks until Valentine’s. I’ll be accepting any and all mixtapes with a sprinkle of Boyz’ ballads.