Bless those daffy Backstreet Boys. Gone are the 1990s era monster hits such as "Quit Playing Games With My Heart" and "I Want It That Way". They're trying to shed their teenybopper image dagnab it. They are a male harmony band thank you very much. Trouble is when you're Howie, A.J., Kevin, Nick, and Brian and millions of teen girls have screamed at every syllable you utter, the past can be a cruel mistress indeed. Some of the cuts on "In a World Like This" commendably nudge their way into Norah Jones styled coffee house harmonizing. "Trust Me" is good natured to a likable extreme. The boys have kept their rust way at bay and it shows through and through. The kiss me, kiss you back loose limbed wooing only asks that you drop some fold worthy currency into their tip jar because there's plenty more where that came from if you ask politely. I admit the closing piano has all the earmarks of a java joint not named Starbucks. Jazzy inside out spells "Try". The wool could easily be pulled over our eyes with this gem since there's no trace of the background synthesizer drama that was the calling card for "Everybody (Backstreet's Back)" and "The Call". The first single from the album "In a World Like This" soars due to the vocals towering over whatever aural wallpaper has been draped behind it. "Permanent Stain" dials high up on the pathos meter. The harmonies in this case prove to be tighter than the '90s heyday. What unfurls is more of an uptempo melodrama affair. "Breathe" signifies one strike against the maturation process the guys claim to be after. For the masses who remember them when it's comforting. For those who have since distanced themselves from bubblegum pop this direction they'll be justified in insisting they've been roped into a dated time warp. The acoustic guitar present during "Madeleine" is too cutesy to convince much of anyone that these kids have decided to try on the threads their dads wore. If you run to guilty pleasure listening like Winnie the Pooh runs to honey jars then "Show 'Em (What You're Made Of) hands itself over to you and whispers "Pull the shades down. Who's gonna know?" The Backstreeters aren't shy about showing off their above the fray confidence in dealing with a world that specializes in erasing such nonsense. I could elaborate further on "Love Somebody" and "One Phone Call" but I don't sense anything about either that's going to situate either of them firmly in the pantheon of classic teen heartthrob material their earlier catalog is known for. Helps neither one of us on the street cred front. Moving right along to "Feels Like Home". It's 1994. Nancy Kerrigan got clubbed by that Tonya Harding skank. Prince was in that unpronounceable symbol phase of his career. And look, The Backstreet Boys are trying to foist this back roads, girls home grown lyrical tripe on all of us. Please grab your umbrellas. It's all the better to fend off the manure with. Nice to know they've got this way with turning back time. From "Love Somebody" on through "Soldier" any chance of The Backstreet Boys shining as a collective gets muted by the phoned in paint by numbers walls of sound erected to give the fivesome a better chance to strut their stuff. These gents have one foot stuck in adolescence and the other making tentative strides towards mature material flavored with the brand of chicory coffee comfort level that encourages you to hear them out before uttering to yourself, "Same Backstreet Boys, different verse."
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