The usual meat-market environment of trendy Boston nightclub Avalon is curiously changed tonight. The excited chatter is about two octaves higher than usual, and a quick inspection reveals a 20:1 girl to guy ratio. Indeed, it seems the only specimens of the male persuasion are reluctant boyfriends—one of them is curiously out of place in a Jim Morrison jacket, trying to look nonchalant. Somewhere, off in the far rear section of the line, an impossibly shrill voice pierces the winter frost and highlights the ineffable strangeness of the night: “Oh my God! I touched the bus!!”

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, when O-Town (Ashley Parker Angel, Erik-Michael Estrada, Trevor Penick, Jacob Underwood and Dan Miller), the boyband of ABC-TV’s “Making the Band” infamy, arrived in Bean-Town, and this city would never be the same. Never before has this historical center of democracy borne witness to a musical outfit so devoid of singing ability, good looks, humility or even charm.

The show begins promisingly enough with opening act Richard Lugo, a 15-year-old wannabe Michael Jackson from Miami. His performance is well done, from the very professional dancing down to the perfectly coordinated lip-synching. The ballad in Lugo’s 20-minute set is appropriately accessorized by a sweaty towel, which he flings into the audience shortly after a series of randomly directed pelvic thrusts.

Mary Goodman is next, an exotic-dancer type from the UK, all leather and studs. The audience’s patience soon wears thin with this gorgeous waif, and they cheer louder for her male dancers than for her. Enough distractions. It’s time for the main attraction, but only after an excruciating 20 minute wait that has as its highlight the surprise appearance of one of the 25 finalists who didn’t make the band on the TV show. When the curtain finally drops, and O-Town appears in all their glory, the screaming was enough to drown out every note of their first song, “All for Love.” The song was atrocious when they performed it during the TV show, and they’re better off tonight completely inaudible.

The harmless drivel they pump out for the next hour is entirely uninteresting. Their attempt at a bad boy look, with all-black outfits and the occasional smoldering glance would probably have elicited multiple beatings in a rough neighbourhood. As vocalists, their wispy sound has to be augmented substantially by a large backing band and background vocals. As for dancing, O-Town’s bored movements lack either energy or real soul.

The boys try to capitalize on their personalities by walking out, one at a time, to graciously receive the screams of a thousand girls. The music is a mere afterthought, scattered throughout the self-congratulatory banter, but the high-energy “Every Six Seconds” at the very end shows that at least they can pull off a quality dance tune. “All or Nothing,” their second single, has some decent (non-lipsynched) singing, but the inane repetition of “Giiiirrrrrlllll,” with Jacob moonwalking, earns no points for them.

When Aryan specimen Ashley Parker Angel (could any stage name be more transparent?) pulls out his guitar for the acoustic “Love Should Be a Crime,” the show reaches a new low. Even the two chords he strums through the song are inaudible; thankfully they forgot to plug in the guitar.

The appearance of the ultra-enthusiastic soloist from Boston teen band LFO to sing their pleasant-enough hit “Girl of TV” couldn’t salvage this show from the lowest depths of bargain-bin hunting. Incongruous as the intrusion is, it provides the most entertaining bit of performance the whole night.

And what a long night it is. The O-Town boys ought to be thankful for these precious moments of fame, because they won’t be around for much longer.

O-TOWN

at Avalon Ballroom

March 12