Fri, 04 Jul 1997

British pretty boys Ant & Dec send local teens swooning

By Achmad Nurhoeri

JAKARTA (JP): Regardless of the setting, the result is always the same when you put young male pop idols at the mercy of a swarm of adoring female fans. The cadenza of ear-splitting female screeches only prompts the beefcake on stage to surrender a wiggle or just a giggle to their hysterical fans.

So what if the fans do not care about lack of vocal range and musical ability? Whose gripe is it anyway if they are utterly satisfied by ogling the group's soulful good looks and bodies to die for?

Last Monday night was true to formula. Although the setting of Planet Hollywood was quite unusual for a teen-music concert, Jakarta's adolescent dames showed they, too, are suckers for a contrived British boy group extravaganza. Continuing this year's progression opened by the visit of quintet Boyzone in January, duo Ant & Dec showed that Britain's contemporary "cultural" invasion is far from over.

A little homework on the group and their startlingly lofty self-perceptions brought a new perspective on them, natural descendants of that long lineage of pretty boy groups spanning Duran Duran, Haircut 100, East 17 and today's cutie-pie assortment.

Crusade

It was in summer 1994 when actors Ant McPartlin and Declan Donnelly dropped their parts in popular children's TV program, Byker Grove, to try their voices in the music world. Earlier in December 1993, the Geordie boys had commenced the crusade with a symbolic single called Tonight, I'm Free.

They were not so sure about changing their image, though. For the sake of maintaining their fame, they intentionally held on to the names and styles of the characters they played in the TV show, boys-next-door PJ and Duncan.

The recipe worked. Smash Hits music magazine and Radio 1 crowned the duo the Best New Act in 1994. The BBC, which loved the guys since they were tube icons, offered them airtime -- their first eight-part series went up, up and away in the ratings in 1995. The second series in 1996 grabbed the BAFTA award for Best Children's Entertainment Show.

They made the decision at the best of times as their music -- rap, house and Brit pop wrapped into one -- was swallowed whole by British fans who lapped up their wholesome image on TV. Two albums, Psyche and Katz, sailed through the British charts. Nine singles entered the Top 20 with ease. Nothing, it seemed, could go wrong.

But when you live out another bloke's life, eventually your ego gets in the way. In the summer of 1996, two years after the whole act began, the duo wanted to be themselves. First step, they killed the characters of PJ and Duncan. Second step, they made a catchy name of their own, Ant & Dec.

"I'm much happier being called by my real name," Ant McPartlin told Smash Hits magazine.

A more realistic answer came from his partner. Dec felt that it was time to grow up. "I was a 20-year-old then and still called Duncan from Byker Grove. People just didn't take us seriously. It also made them embarrassed to buy our records."

Having shed their erstwhile image, what kind of mask are they putting on to secure their moneybags? A clue can be found in their third album The Cult of Ant & Dec; they want to be cult leaders.

"Well, there's only me and Ant so far," Dec said. "But our dream is, one day, to go to a Newcastle United match and see the whole stadium wearing Ant & Dec masks. Everywhere we go, we want to see the whole stadium wearing our masks."

The cult campaign seemed to be working during Monday night's show. More than 200 girls shouted frantically when these young millionaires sprang out from backstage. Did they love to love them only for their looks? Some, surprisingly, were more philosophical.

Nina, 14, said the duo was different from other Brit pop acts like Take That or Boyzone. "Actually, Ant & Dec has more exclusive followers because their music is rather different from the pattern," she said. "They like to put in rap. This makes some girls avoid them and some boys go to the club. And they're not like Boyzone which came up from nowhere."

But these die-hard fans cannot deny the boys' adorable looks are still a major part of their devotion. "Ant & Dec are awfully cute looking. Take That boys were awfully bad looking," said Devi, 13.

Boyzone was created and packaged by Polygram and is managed under the label's strict surveillance. The Take That boys, now defunct, were male versions of Barbie whose changes of costume in a concert often exceeded the number of songs sung. But Ant & Dec are masters of their own show. They have set up Ant & Dec Production Limited with both among the four executive directors. They also maintain their casual Byker Grove look, the secret to their success.

They presented their hits from the PJ & Duncan era like U Krazy Katz, Let's Get Ready to Rumble, and the most popular tune in Indonesia, Eternal Love, which triggered audience hysterics.

But it was songs from the Cult album that made the girls shriek the loudest. In Shout, Dec's guitar playing had the girls quivering. The duo ended the night with the mushy hit, When I Fall in Love.

From the fans' reactions alone, the show seemed to be a success. But for critical observers, there were too many obvious deceptions. There was no band that set the melody. The duo went on stage with a play-back recording of the songs. Not only did the music sound canned, the voices seemed bogus.

When the music stopped at the end of a song, the duo strained not to open their mouths. Ant occasionally spoke to the fans in his deep, Geordie-accented voice, which differed from his singing voice. Dec's neck veins did not contract much. There were no huffs and puffs after rapping. Although they tried hard, the duo, like cult leaders wooing back disgruntled followers, eventually gave a grudging admission of their sins.

"We would like to come back here again.... with a live show," said Dec.

How long did the mission take? Believe it or not, eight songs in 30 minutes. An almost impossible feat for live singers. But something really possible for trained actors.

Who, then, should you blame if the young and clueless maidens shrieked their heads off when their cult leader presented the canned sermon? The cult of the capitalistic music industry which allows actors to pose as singers, of course.