EDMONTON -- There were some funny things said at last night's Backstreet Boys concert. For instance: "This one goes out to all the ladies." Come on, Boys - all your songs go out to the ladies. Of the 11,800 people who turned up at Skyreach Centre for the Black & Blue tour last night, probably 11,000 were ladies. Well ... girls, anyway. Men who came were either A. dragged by their girlfriends, B. hoping to meet girlfriends, C. taking their daughters or D. gay. This entire show went out to the ladies. That's the whole idea. That's the secret to their success. Here's another common boy band cliche: "Without the Backstreet Boys fans, we wouldn't be here." Well, of course not, you silly boy band. This begs the ancient philosophical question: If a boy band thrusts their hips in the woods and no one's there, does anyone scream? And by the way, what are a bunch of 12-year-old girls doing screaming over a quintet of grown men? At least these boys, these men, handled themselves with dignity. Opening act Sisqo - who delivered 30 minutes of pointless hip-hop lite, ending with his flash-in-the-pop pan, Thong Song - resorted to flashing his abs for 12-year-old girl screams. Ick, as they say. Back to the real reason we were here. Last night's show was heavy on the love ballads and chock full of boy band cliches, some of which the Backstreet Boys invented, to be fair - cliches writ large. The production was awesome (28 semi-trailers worth, to be exact) - everything from pyrotechnics to multiple video screens to flying bridges to hidden elevators. What the crowd got was a stadium show stuffed into an arena. Even if you didn't like the group's cloying music - and what am I saying? Everyone did, of course - there was plenty of eye candy for all. The opening was a scene straight out of Armageddon. The central view screen (some expensive TV, this thing) pictured the Earth being bombarded with meteors, accompanied by what appeared to be real meteors hitting the stage - colourful images of mass destruction that would've been a lot of fun before Sept. 11. Anyway, the Earth is in ruins and the only survivors appear to be five guys named Nick, A.J., Howie, Kevin and Brian (plus their dancers, musicians, production crew and costumers), lowered to the stage on pillars of smoke. They sang something along the lines of "this one goes out to you," each boy getting his chance to mug for the cameras and generate screams, which just about drowned out the music. Maybe as the Boys sing, the world slowly heals. The story wasn't clear. The opener segued into Larger Than Life, as the Boys did their best posing, preening, dancing and running to the prows of a stage that looked like a giant futuristic sailboat. Screams filled the arena. That's what it was - sailing on a sea of screams. Then it was time to meet the Boys, one by one. They've done this shtick before. Brian was the first to speak. He asked the fans several questions that involved whether they had Backstreet Boys CDs and if they want a new one. Take a wild guess what the answer was. It was "EEEEEE!" A.J. McLean took the microphone next. "I'm baaaack," he said, alluding to his time in alcohol rehab. Earning a huge hand for being 86 days sober, he gave the crowd a "sincere, very grateful thank-you for allowing me to get myself better ... if I could, I'd kiss each and every one of you." Hey, back off, man. Nick was next, urging the fans to scream even louder, as if that was necessary. Then came Howie, then Kevin, then Jason. Just kidding. There is no Jason in the Backstreet Boys - yet. The show took on a more Vegas-like feel from there. White tuxes were donned and the Boys proceeded to lay out the love ballads in earnest, including I Want It That Way and Stop Playing Games With My Heart. The girls ate it up. One of the funniest stunts in the early part of the show was a video clip from the year 2050, picturing decrepit looking Backstreet Boys being interviewed about their latest album - "Everybody said boy bands wouldn't last." Imagine: the Backstreet Boys play the Jubilee Auditorium 49 years from now for an audience consisting of screaming little old ladies brandishing blue glowsticks. That's scarier than global Armageddon. (More on: Backstreet Boys).