Being a 5SOS fan seems to involve a lot of weeping – and waiting. Standing in a queue outside Sydney’s Foxtel studios, Grace Lanyon tells me she sobbed in class the day before, when her mum texted her the news that she’d won a seat at today’s live show with 5 Seconds of Summer. The 13-year-old schoolgirl then texted her best friend, which prompted a fresh round of weeping in another classroom across town.
So what makes 5SOS so special? Her withering look suggests the answer is self-evident. “They’re perfect!” says Grace, who has posters of the band on her bedroom ceiling.
Aiding and abetting Grace’s obsession is her mum, Sue MacDonald, a former Bay City Rollers fanatic who has happily let her daughter wag school today. 5 Seconds of Summer, or 5SOS to their friends, “look like decent blokes”, says Sue, and a bit of adolescent hero worship never hurt anyone. “It sets off feelings like nothing else does,” she says. “It’s an excitement you feel to your toes.”
Almost on cue, Grace begins to hyperventilate as we near the front entrance. “Oh, my God,” she repeats over and over, holding her face in her hands. Sue calmly hands her daughter a tissue and tells her, “Remember to breathe, darl.”
Such is the power of four teenage boys from western Sydney. Luke Hemmings, Michael Clifford, Calum Hood and Ashton Irwin originally made waves in 2011, when they began posting cover songs on YouTube, but it was 2013 when they hit the international stage, supporting One Direction on the boy band’s worldwide tour. Their megahit “She Looks So Perfect” came out last year, and they have been living the teen dream ever since, hamming it up on shows like Ellen and nabbing best new artist at the American Music Awards.
5SOS might spurn the “boy band” label (it’s apparently pop punk – and they write and play it themselves) but there’s no doubt they have the requisite rabid female fan base. And like The Beatles, Monkees and New Kids on the Block before them, 5SOS can reduce their disciples to hysterical wrecks.
Which may seem bizarre from the distance of middle age, but was it all that long ago that you sneaked out of boarding school to see John, Paul, George and Ringo? That you swooned over the feathery flicks of David Cassidy or the tombstone teeth of Donny Osmond? That you teased your perm and donned your three-tier ra-ra skirt to squeal over Duran Duran?
Despite a fleeting admiration for Spandau Ballet and their aerodynamic hairdos, I never embraced teen fandom, but I still remember my mother crying in the car one August day in 1977, when she heard that Elvis had died. Adolescent idols mean something.
At the head of the 5SOS queue, blue-haired 19-year-old Teeghan Fox estimates she has spent a total of 130 hours waiting to see the band over six encounters. Her friend, 19-year-old Emma O’Brien, has even had (a slightly inaccurate version of) the 5SOS tally symbol tattooed on her arm – right under her One Direction arrows.
The band’s appeal, they say, lies in their normality. “They’re the kind of boys who are at your school,” says Teeghan. There’s an idol for everyone: Calum, “the sporty guy”; Luke, “the shy best friend”; Michael, “the weird emo kid”; or Ashton, “the class clown”.
The only problem, it seems, is that pimply, mumbling mortal boys can’t trump the 5SOS mirage. As Emma says, “Every date that I go on, they have to know that 5SOS comes first.”
It’s probably all just harmless escapism from homework and nagging parents, but surely putting all your eggs in one romantic basket is a bad move. It’s certainly delusional.
It’s also fun. By the time the 5SOS boys file into the studio, the girls are stamping feet, flapping hands and curling their fingers into heart symbols. “Oh, my God!” is the universal refrain.
The squealing isn’t kind to the eardrums, but the adolescent enthusiasm is infectious. The joy is soon punctured, though, by a sharp sting to my forehead: Luke, the lead singer, has picked up a toy BB gun off the studio coffee table and aimlessly fired it into the crowd – and hit me right between the eyes. Rather appropriately, the plastic bullet has identified the middle-aged imposter in the audience.
Over the next hour, Calum tries some soccer moves, Luke is dunked in a tank twice, and Michael lip-syncs a Britney Spears song, all to rapturous applause. Meanwhile, the girls yell out “I love you!” and take selfies with the boys in the background.
At the end of the taping, the girls emerge from the studio, spent but satisfied. Yet there is still a chance of weeping on the way home – “because that’s when it kicks in”, explains 15-year-old Amelia Kerney. “And then there’s post-concert depression.” Her friend nods sagely, feeling Amelia’s pain. “It’s called PCD,” says 15-year-old Lauren Smith. “It’s a thing.”
Trivialise a fan’s love of 5SOS, though, and they’ll soon set you straight. It seems there is some kind of euphoric empowerment to be gained from fandom. “I didn’t really have friends until 5SOS came along,” says 17-year-old Shanley Roberts, who has connected with other fans through social media. Emma credits 5SOS with helping her through anxiety and depression, while Teeghan says the band helped her cope with her mum’s cancer.
After the show, Teeghan and Emma admit they are disappointed they didn’t get to meet their idols, but they’re pleased they scored some pizza and caught a few Caramello Koalas. “Every now and then, you have that moment where you’re like, am I wasting my time? Like, what am I doing?” muses Emma. “But then you realise how much happiness they bring you. It’s funny how you can love someone so much when they don’t even know you exist.”
It is funny. Let’s just hope they’re not still doing it at 30.
