So, today we're going to be discussing a topic that positively makes me want to scream and fall into crying fits of hysterics. That's right, we're talking boy bands, bands of boys, groupings of young men. Well, you get what I'm trying to say here. It's boy-band mania at "Origin of Everything," and I'll be telling you everything, or at least a lot, about the history of how these scream/ dream machines got their start, a little bit of some of the markers that make up the classic boy ensemble, and some of the science behind what makes us lose our collective minds when we see them grace the stage. Also, this is a video with ten-plus minutes of B-roll of boy bands. Come on, you know you want to watch it.

[upbeat music]

(Describer) Title: Origin of Everything.

So, before we start the incoherent screaming and fan adoration, let's get to the heart and soul of where these teenage dreams originated. According to NPR's "All Things Considered," some of the distinctive markers of the boy band, as opposed to the man band, are: boy bands tend to be factory produced, meaning that a record executive or talent manager assembles the band and is responsible for casting a group of lads in their teens or twenties. Second, they also tend to play more catchy bubblegum pop music with simple messaging and sounds, although the range of styles of music can vary widely from band to band. Third, boy bands usually don't play their own instruments or write their own songs. And lastly, boy bands tend to have a fan base that is heavily comprised of young girls and young women. Now, before you get ready to fight me in the comments section, many folks, including "Billboard," trace some of the earliest prototypes of the boy band to a British crew that's often not associated with the genre. That's right, I'm talking about The Beatles. Early Beatlemania, more so than their later work, became the blueprint for some of the distinctive markers of boy bands, namely a crew of clean-cut-looking young boys playing pop music to hoards of screaming teenage girls. But John, Paul, Ringo, and George weren't a factory product, and they quickly moved on to other genres of music and are now more heavily associated with rock and roll over anything else. Still, the blueprint for boy bands did start to spring up in the 1960s and 1970s with groups like the Osmonds, the Jackson 5, and TV sitcom sensation, The Monkeys. But the modern boy band seems to really kick off in the early 1980s with groups like Menudo and New Edition. The singing, dancing, harmonizing young heartthrobs encapsulated the signature style that other boy bands would follow for decades, including the singing sensations we all know and love to like, like the Backstreet Boys, B2K, NSYNC, One Direction, New Kids on the Block, Boyz II Men, and 98 Degrees. And don't be upset if I left your faves off the list because if we're just going to list off all the acts that have risen and fallen from glory in the past decades, I'd be here all day. And that's because the boy band went from being a few well-placed ensembles to a veritable explosion in the late 1990s as teen fandom and teen culture, particularly teen girl culture, dominated the airwaves. Music critic Jon Pareles even wrote for the "New York Times" in 1999, "Applause is passe; "the reaction most eagerly sought by pop culture right now "from music to television to movies, "is a high pitched squeal from a mob of young girls. "The mass market has been voting with its dollars for kiddie-friendly hits with pinup potential." But the success and failure of certain acts wasn't entirely dependent on the sharpness of their attire or the beauty of their barbershop harmonies. It was also dependent on the group's ability to find success as crossover artists in multiple genres of popular music, reaching audiences oftentimes on the basis of race. The harmonizing and vocal stylings of many boy bands from the early 1980s through the early 2000s trace their roots back to the vocalizations of Black acapella barbershop quartets from the first half of the 20th century. And yet, by the late 1990s, many of the most commercially successful boy bands either had all white members or were coded as white, even with the presence of members from other races. And that's in part because these all-white ensembles found greater crossover success in the pop world. And in the 1980s and '90s, the proven crossover potential of artists like Whitney Houston, Prince, and Michael Jackson defined the era as one were racially coded performances of music that were previously considered niche markets, like R&B and soul music, were suddenly finding mainstream success as pop-infused sensations. But non-white boy bands, with exceptions for groups like Boyz II Men, largely did not have the same mainstream success of their all-white counterparts, leading many to consider the boy band archetype to be groups like Backstreet Boys and New Kids on the Block, even though they were proceeded by acts like New Edition and Menudo. This may be changing, though. In 2017, Korean pop band BTS exploded in popularity in the United States, with multiple milestones, including two songs on the Billboard Hot 100. K-Pop's origins can be traced back to 1992 to a band called Seo Taiji and Boys. Then three music studios popped up in the mid-to-late '90s that created groups which continued the wave. Another big component of boy bands-- heck, some could even argue the biggest component of boy bands-- is their hoards of screaming, largely female, fans. Because without their consistent fandom, boy bands wouldn't be the cultural phenomenon that we love to love and rag on in equal measure. But part of the consistent consternation around teenybopper music could be derived from the way we view the culture of teenage girls. Professor Gayle Wald notes in her article on boy bands and teen girl culture that part of the friction in the way we narrate boy bands is that they're often gendered as specifically the interest of teenage girls. Even the members themselves are often cast as girlish or sexually ambiguous in ways meant to make them read as sexual but ultimately non-threatening. Additionally, Wald notes that boy bands, which are often music industry creations, don't have the same authenticating origin stories of other genres of music that are considered masculine or masculine-centric. She notes that for rock stars, this authenticating origin story often focuses on the band's roots in dive bars and small gigs, whereas in hip hop, the site of authenticity is rooted in concepts of the street or urban life. But boy bands put together by scouts and talent managers often lack this origin authenticity story, instead following a tightly crafted and honed music industry image. And that's not just exclusive to American bands like the Backstreet Boys. The South Korean music studio system is another example of having bands put together by scouts and talent managers. In the past, studios regulated things like rehearsal hours, curfews, and even cell-phone usage, in addition to typical oversight of lyrical direction and PR training. But BTS is one of a few K-pop bands that has helped to break the mold. Culture writer Aja Romano notes that it makes sense BTS has become globally popular given that they've been given more freedom to talk about things like mental health, self-love, and cultural pressure. But although it all may seem glossy, sleek, and manufactured on the outside, there's actually a little bit of science behind how and why these record company products become so irresistible to their teenage fans. To figure out why we find ourselves so invested in boy bands, we could look to some theories from psychology and sociology. Idolizing celebrities might help young people develop into independent adults. This idolization is sometimes considered a type of secondary attachment. Basically, an adolescent can become emotionally invested in a fantasy relationship with someone they don't know, like, say, AJ from the Backstreet Boys, in my case. Just an example. I definitely did not have a poster of AJ hanging in my childhood bedroom. Anyway, in one study of around 150 adolescents with an average age of about 15, over 57% of them idolized a celebrity in such a way that they considered it to be a relationship. And the vast majority of the time, that's a good thing. By taking inspiration from others, like celebrity idols and peers, a child can form their own personality and preferences. It's sort of like a one-sided mentorship. Secondary attachments allow children to move on from dependent family life in which their parents are their primary role models and into independent adult life. Secondary attachments can be formed with all sorts of celebrities, including athletes, actors, and historical figures. Boy-band members just happened to be super popular. One study published in 2001 surveyed 75 people between the ages of 17 and 35 about their celebrity idols; 85% had male idols, and about 34% chose musicians or singers. Music itself is relevant to the transition into adulthood too. As psychologist Amiram Raviv and his team explained in their research, adolescents often prefer to listen to music separately from their parents. So, similar to secondary attachments, music can cause them to form their own preferences and identities. That overlap between mostly male musician idols and enjoyable music gives many adolescents the opportunity to grow as people. The relationship with a celebrity is known as a parasocial relationship. And it isn't just something that young people experience. Researchers Donald Horton and Richard Wall actually came up with this term in 1956 to describe a new phenomenon that they were noticing, thanks to mass media. Adults were feeling a sense of intimacy with TV hosts and newscasters who they watched regularly. But as a reminder, we're talking about psychological theories here, and there has been some criticism of these concepts. Sometimes scholars who use these terms imply that fans have trouble distinguishing between real relationships and fandom, which isn't fair. And as Professor of Media Studies Dr. Joli Jensen has noted, "It seems imperfect to characterize celebrity fandom "as a completely more intense "or potentially unhealthy thing than sports fandom "or even, say, a passion for fishing, gardening, academic endeavors, and so on." There are also so many aspects to being a fan besides just liking a celebrity or a group of celebrities, in the case of boy bands. Often, some of the allure is the idea of being a part of something. We know that people who feel as though they belong to a group tend to be more happy, connected, and secure. The sense of belonging is so important that experts often consider it to be an intrinsic human need. There's a lot of research out there about how this pertains to sports team affiliation. People who support local teams have been observed as more confident, less depressed, and less alienated. They're just generally better off. A good way to seek out this sense of belonging is to gather with like-minded fans. French sociologist Emile Durkheim invented the term "collective effervescence" to describe the feeling of excitement and connection that comes out of being in enthusiastic groups of, say, football games, political rallies, church, or One Direction concerts. Research has shown that people who regularly experience collective effervescence have a higher sense of belonging and connection to others, which presumably results in all the great side effects I just listed, so, yay, fandom. Concerts can also bring catharsis. Let's be honest, it's nice to be able to let loose and scream every once in a while. Author Rachel Simmons, whose research focuses on female leadership, has observed that women are typically expected to behave a certain way, which is quiet, polite, and unassuming. But while attending concerts, they're allowed to do everything they're discouraged from doing in regular life-- namely scream, dance, and go wild. It makes total sense that this would feel freeing. Screaming isn't just an aimless behavior, by the way. We evolve to scream as a method of communication. So, according to Simmons, we scream when J-Hope starts dancing to express something to the people around us. By verbalizing this passion, we can connect with other BTS fans. And, hey, maybe even get the attention of J-Hope himself, which never hurts. So, what do you think? Well, it seems like the ultimate story of the boy band is that they're both culturally and scientifically irresistible to their masses of screaming fans. But part of the disproportionate disdain that boy bands get over other pop sensations who sing, dance, and don't write their own music could be their heavy focus on recruiting and maintaining a young female audience base. Because as much as we all love to chastise these acts as musical frivolity, I can't help but wonder if the heat would be quite so hot if the bands had a mixed or primarily male audience base. And let's face it, there are equally frivolous things and kitschy music crazes associated with teenage boy culture that don't get nearly as much finger wagging. And as boy band extraordinaire Harry Styles once said, "How can you say young girls don't get it? "They're are future. "Our future doctors, lawyers, mothers, presidents. "They kind of keep the world going. "Teenage girl fans, they don't lie. "If they like you, they're there. "They don't act too cool. They like you and they tell you, which is sick." And that's probably the first and last time I'll get to quote Harry Styles in and "Origin" episode, but something about it just felt right, you know? And as long as culture and science align to make these bands the apple of teenage girls' eyes, it looks like the boy band is likely here to stay in one iteration or another.