Never Gone

Who says boy bands don't grow up?

For all those snarling detractors who said all those mean things about Backstreet Boys, here's a big surprise: Never Gone is some of the smoothest, sexiest adult contemporary music to hit the airwaves this year, and it's one hit after another. Nobody expected a bunch of classy crooners to emerge from that cocoon of record company suits, but here they are.

The album opens with "Incomplete," as magnetic (read that "babe magnet") a ballad as has ever been released. The harmonies soar, the music swirls like dry ice fog off the stage. It's sugary sweet, slick production. And it's just fine, particularly the piano part. The video that plays on VH-1 (when they're not running a tacky reality show) is first rate and will reel in even more consumers. Just stand back and let the Boys work their magic.

Call "My Beautiful Woman" shameless and you'd be right. So what? This is pop music in the finest tradition, from Motown, to Hall and Oates. The beat is as infectious as the underlying guitar riffs and with those harmonies, the song is a charming radio juggernaut.

Just don't try to play it in your computer -- the juggernaut screeches to a halt. Once again, in the interest of squeezing the last nickel out of an album, the label has gone with an inferior player. Although it sounds good, skipping around the disk is not possible -- play it all or play only one song, but don't try to start in the middle and don't plan on leaving it on all day, at least in your computer. The graphics are nice, though.

"Weird World" is pop music at its most deliciously dense, thick and heartfelt. It's a beautifully rich sound they've gone for here, and they've succeeded with brilliance.

The album closes with the title track, a tribute to Kevin Richardson's father. It's very sweet, very dear, but never sappy.

With a dozen potential hit singles, Never Gone shows Backstreet Boys to be just that. In fact, the album is good enough to finally give them real credibility. That's a sign of growing up, too.

By Ian Reif