Jonas Brothers vs. New Kids on the Block

by Chuck Eddy

I’m not the first person to point out that Jonas Brothers and New Kids on the Block have stuff in common. I was going to be the first, but then Dave DiMartino went and revealed on his Yahoo blog last week that both ensembles are “male, human, English-speaking, preferred largely by a young female audience, fantastic entertainers, and equally enjoyable in their upbeat video romps! Similarly, were they both to be mysteriously teleported into deep space, they would -- as air-breathers -- instantly suffocate!” He left out something, though – namely, that both groups have halfway decent melodic rock ballads called “Tonight”! And that therefore, even as we speak, moms and daughters across the nation are fighting over which one is better!

NKOTB’s “Tonight,” as showcased on their occasionally great (but more often not) new Greatest Hits CD, was clearly their late Beatles music-hall-psych-with-exotic-intro move, and it’s not bad. Jonas Bros’ “Tonight,” on the other hand, is one of the more so-what pop-punk emo-leaning cuts on their also occasionally great new A Little Bit Longer. (Has anybody ever raised the Weezer “My Name Is Jonas” question? Okay, I just did.) Both songs flirt with pop-rock glory, but neither quite gets there, a shame given that “tonight” is clearly the most powerpop word in the English language – as previously proven by the Easybeats, Raspberries, Knack and Shoes ("Tomorrow Night," whatever), not to mention Def Leppard at the exact moment when Joe Elliott transcended the heavens with his line “I gotta know tonight” in “Hysteria.”

Interestingly, the new Jonas joint has a much more “Hysteria”-like song on it: namely, the lushly understated ballad “Can’t Have You,” which pulls off the terrific trick of crossing one of the loveliest rock ballad hits of the ‘80s (Lep’s) with one of the loveliest rock ballad hits of the ‘90s (Smashing Pumpkins’ “1979.”) And the Jonases come even closer to powerpop immortality with the muscular guitars and pretty harmonies of “BB Good” and “Got Me Going Crazy,” the latter of which reminds me of Creem writers in 1973 trying to convince skeptical readers that the Sweet’s “Blockbuster” rocked as hard as Deep Purple. Bazooka-rock, Robert Christgau called the Sweet’s stuff, and the term totally applies here. Other obvious ‘70s reference points would be the Bay City Rollers and the Osmonds circa “Yo Yo” and “Down By the Lazy River” (if not quite their even more metal “Crazy Horses”) – glam-rock disguised as bubblegum, powerpop with actual power. In the Jonas Brothers' case, Chris Lord-Alge’s mix no doubt helped.

The Jonases being siblings, the Osmonds comparison probably makes the most sense, especially given their shared blue-eyed-soul proclivities, which provide most of the chaff on A Little Bit Longer -- the Jonases will never pull off a “One Bad Apple.” Though I respect the Motown-basslined paranoia of “Video Girl,” despite it not boding well for their ethical future. And sorry, that gratuitous more-middle-school-than-old-school rap ending the Black & Blue-era Backstreet Boys simulation “Burnin' Up” is just too silly to hate on.

New Kids’ even more blue-eyed Greatest Hits has its own share of rapped ridiculousness from the five Beantown bad boys, of course – the most entertaining taking place amidst Marky Mark and Cole & Clivelles shoutouts and arguments about how positivity doesn’t mean being soft in the hater-baiting late-period “Games (The Kids Get Hard Mix).” Also groovier than you might remember: “Hangin’ Tough” (Sly Fox “Let’s Go All the Way” clank, Chakachas-like salsa-disco breaks, “get on the floor and do the New Kids dance”) and “Baby, I Believe in You” (Blaxploitation bass and strings and sax).

Super-smashes “Step By Step” and “You Got It (The Right Stuff)” still can’t pull off their respectively shrewd bubblegum Bobby Brown and teeny Time attempts, and the callow Delfonics cover still sounds way thin. But it’s possible the ‘90s never managed a more gorgeously vulnerable DeBarge/Stylistics falsetto after Joey McIntyre’s lead in the 1990 non-LP B-side “Valentine Girl,” maybe my favorite number here even if his bandmates can’t keep up. The only real competition is the similarly titled “My Favorite Girl,” a propulsive and wimpy Noel/TKA-genus Latin freestyle move from 1988 that lets the music play just right.

Otherwise, we’re given an unfunky bunch of bleh ballads, plus four pointless “bonus tracks,” the most tolerable being a Jordan Knight track called “Angel of Love” that pilfers its melody from the Commodores’ “Three Times a Lady,” and the most cringe-worthy being a “2008 New Kids on the Block Mega Mix.” Note to Hollywood Records: when you compile the Jonas Brothers best-of 15 years from now, please avoid one of those.