Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: WEDNESDAY, January 8, 1992 TAG: 9201080280
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: E-5 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: MARK MORRISON, STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
MARKY MARK KEEPS 'EM SCREAMING
How can anybody who calls himself Marky Mark be taken seriously?Or who opens a concert with "Marky Mark is here?"
Or was once a member of New Kids on the Block?
Or wears his trousers so low on his hips that you can see several inches of white BVD? Or better yet, performs a slow love rap in boxer shorts?
The answer: Marky Mark for one, and most of the 1,622 frenzied, hormone-flaring, mostly teen-age girls that gathered Tuesday night at the Salem Civic Center.
Too serious.
To them, rapper Marky Mark, his well-sculpted muscles flaring back, and his Funky Bunch backup group was to die for. To scream for. To faint . . . well, OK, nobody fainted.
But judging by their greeting, they loved him all the same.
As for posturing Marky Mark, his rap is just good business. And to his credit, at least he preached the serious business of safe sex, even leading his young, adoring fans to rap along the message with him.
Then, he invited them to his dressing room after the show to watch while he took off the few clothes he was wearing. He also got down and humped the stage floor.
Meanwhile, the six-member Funky Bunch kept pace throughout his hour-long set with a hypnotic back beat that throbbed with funky delight. Give Marky Mark serious thanks for bringing them along.
Opening was Rythm Syndicate, led by Carl Sturker and Evan Rogers.
More pop than rap, the group pushed through a brief and bouncy five-song set that featured its minor hits, "P.A.S.S.I.O.N." and "Hey Donna."
Particularly bouncy were the two bare-chested, pelvic-thrusting male dancers the Syndicate brought along to knock around the stage like a pair of synchronized aerobics instructors.
The dual workout seemed especially fitting during the group's best-known number, "P.A.S.S.I.O.N.," with its mid-song break: "Work that body! Flex that body! Work that body! Flex that body!"
Their theatrics aside, the band's set was really singer Rogers' show, as he managed Prince-like high notes that were able to pierce through the otherwise standard drum- and bass-dominated thunder behind him.
If only he hadn't kept referring to the audience as ladies.