In the Concert Hall, It Smells Like Tween Spirit

The "only been with one man" needed a little scrubbing. Erik Chandler, the bassist, sat down and explained, "We have to change some stuff."

This is not a problem. "This is a very unique situation," Chandler said, "where the majority of people in the crowd are 7 to 13 years old." Chandler, 31, with multiple piercings, tattoos and spiky hair, is a father himself. He admits he and his band mates don't really understand how they became a tween sensation, but they are.

Which is kind of amazing, because Bowling for Soup (which took its name from a scatological riff on Steve Martin's 1978 "Wild and Crazy Guy" album) was known as a "drunk rock" party band of fat guys from Wichita Falls, Tex., whose breakout hit was the Grammy-nominated "Girl All the Bad Guys Want."

"It is weird," Chandler said of their sudden association with fans still in elementary school. "Maybe it's just catchy music with a hook. It isn't too complex and everybody can wrap their heads around it. The parents get the underlying meaning. But it's kid-friendly. Why? I don't know. With us, it has to do with . . . having a serious sense of not taking ourselves too seriously."

He says BFS "works like those animated movies," citing Pixar's "Finding Nemo" where the parents laugh at the sharks in a 12-step program and the kids just laugh at the talking sharks.

Around this time, the Radio Disney marketing and publicity team arrived and took a seat behind us, explaining their need "to monitor the interview." Things became officially awkward. After the BFS conversation ended, a publicist politely insisted that we leave.

Leave the concert?

That's where this was going, so we pulled our ticket out. Saved by Ticketmaster. Up in our seat, it was hard to understand what all the fiddle-faddle was about. When we spoke with Kobashi after the concert, she told us that the night was a success, selling 13,000 tickets and that a Totally Ten DVD of the concert will come out this fall. So what could Disney be hiding? That some of the singers and musicians (like the Cheetah Girls and Miley Cyrus) performed to recorded backing? (As the Los Angeles Times music critic Randy Lewis reported in his review, they "had moments where their lips didn't quite sync with what came out of the P.A. system.") So what? "The Cheetahs' energetic dancing and Cyrus' winning smile seemed sufficient compensation for the kids in the house."

It was true. The mouse house went nuts. The girls stomped, danced and spun their glow sticks. Some kids even made the devil-horns gesture with their small manicured fingers. It was like Arena Rock School, as their parents gently encouraged appropriate concert behavior. Plus: nachos. There was no mistaking who this birthday party was for. During the Aly & AJ set, one of them (they're sort of Olsen-Twinsy and so it was hard for uninitiated to actually tell them apart) brought the message home.

Can you hear us, Radio Disney? How are you feeling tonight, Radio Disney? You guys rock! We love you, Radio Disney! When our ears hurt, you guys are doing your job as screamers! We're dedicating this song to Radio Disney! Etc.

But when A&A launched into "Do You Believe in Magic," the Lovin' Spoonful song released 40 years ago, the fans knew the lyrics and sang along with considerable brio.

And if they didn't know the words, or the performers didn't know the words -- no problem -- there was a big teleprompter located mid-arena. In between sets, various Disney characters came out to banter, tout Radio Disney, offer family-friendly messages of hope and empowerment, offer prizes and introduce the next act. After the BFS bit was over, the audience could read on the prompter: "Oh my God, how cool was that?"

Truth is, OMG, it wasn't bad at all.