When embarrassing cds find the light of day

Good news music lovers: The New Kids on the Block are back at it.

Their first gig in 14 years was just announced, there's an album planned for the summer, and a supporting world tour is scheduled for the fall.

OK, so I lied -- that's not exactly good news, especially for people who love music.

But it's true they're back, so tweens who missed them in the '90s can finally make up for lost time.

A NKOTB concert in 2008, however, will be undoubtedly weird: throngs of screaming 30-somethings lined up for a stage of gaily-choreographed almost 40-somethings isn't a wholesome image.

Nevertheless, they'll probably hang tough and sell another 70 million records by somehow convincing 13-year-olds that 38 is the new 15.

I know what you're thinking. Who am I to act all high and mighty when lurking in my parents' basement are shoeboxes of Soul Asylum and Gin Blossoms records in a room adorned with dusty posters of Temple of the Dog.

And wasn't I the guy at that Spin Doctors concert in 1992? Yes, I was that guy.

Truth is, we all have musical demons. Even the most seasoned music aficionado listened to crap at some point in his life, probably more recently than he's willing to admit. (Hint: to dethrone the obnoxious, self-acclaimed music tastemaker, check the CDs directly behind the public façade of his music collection -- the shameful records are always nearby).

My girlfriend and I have clashed numerous times over what's to be included in our "public" CD collection.

I can't seem to convince her that Matthew Good CDs belong in the "alone-time music" shoebox I've put in the closet for her, next to her Sublime records.

Even the most successful music critic I know has such a box -- I haven't found it yet, but every time he has me over I dig a little deeper into his immaculate vinyl collection.

There's a Counting Crows record in there somewhere, I know it.

If I sound serious, I'm not. Every questionable CD we bought as teenagers was a stepping-stone along a glorious voyage of self-discovery. While we may not be keen to advertise our training CDs, we should at least be able to laugh at them.

Because have we really changed that much since that first New Kids on the Block concert way back when?

Hopefully, yes, but that doesn't mean we can't go to the reunion tour with a clear conscience.

This time around we know all the posturing is stupid and overblown. The difference is now it's the performers fooled by the hype.