My First TRL

As home to TRL, MTV's Times Sq. studio is perhaps the closest thing that tweens have to a Mecca: one only needs to watch the fervor with which they gather at street level during taping of the show, shrieking at any glimpse of a host or popstar in the window above. The glassed wall, being part of the studio, is clearly soundproof. But the hordes don’t seem to care — their outpouring of support borders on fanaticism. It's like they’re seeing the Pope on his balcony, only he’s wearing an Ed Hardy T-shirt and they have a poster of him over their nightstand.

With this in mind, I entered the TRL studio for the first time yesterday with an overwhelming feeling of guilt and trepidation. Guilt because I was occupying prime real estate on hallowed turf — what tween wouldn’t kill to be inches away from the stage where Damien and Vanessa usher out the Pharrells, Fergies, and Timberlakes of the day? Trepidation because I didn’t know what these youngsters were capable of, both in terms of noise levels and spontaneous acts of enthusiasm. My fears were justified when the crowd-control handlers gave their first cue to "make some noise!" Rarely have I been so uncomfortable in a public space, and I wondered how the hosts and crew retain their sanity after hearing those squeals week in and week out.

But that was just the beginning, and this was no regular show. TRL was announcing this year’s Video Music Awards nominees and pulling out all the stops to promote the massive, weekend-long event at the Palms Casino in Las Vegas. As the procession of stars started rolling out — Rihanna, Timbaland, Kanye West (pictured, with Damien Fahey) — the decibel levels became even more deafening. During a commercial break, a producer’s instructions for a Chris Brown entrance sent a girl sitting behind me over the edge. Cries of "Ohmygod ohmygodohmygod" turned into real tears and prompted a stern but compassionate talking-to from a security guard. She was almost speaking in tongues until her friends finally convinced her to calm down — "You're gonna get us kicked out," they hissed, dead serious.

It’s easy to mock the tweens and their cultish ways, but it’s also easy to forget the integral role they play as tastemakers of pop. They are the ones listening to the radio everyday, filling arenas, and fanatically tuning into TRL. And they are the ones who make celebrities truly feel their celebrity. The red carpets, press engagements, luxury transportation — these are all reminders that you’ve "made it," but it’s hard to underestimate the effect of screaming fans literally crawling over one another to touch your hand. Is this what Beatlemania was like? Seeing this behavior so close up made me actually stop to consider how wild it is.

In a particularly telling moment, "Male Artist of the Year" nominee Robin Thicke stood onstage as his video for "Lost Without You" continued to play through a commercial. Without provocation, the entire crowd started chanting the lyrics and Robin performed a few shimmies and shuffles while walking around the room greeting all of the girls (and completely ignoring the guys). Needless to say, they almost fainted with excitement. There was something so playfully egomaniacal about the whole scene that it seemed almost surreal.

As I snickered at these antics and imagined many of the crowd members texting "OMG!! <3 Robin Thicke" to their less-fortunate friends, I also couldn’t help but feeling slightly envious. They were having so much fun! Their days and weeks were made. Meanwhile, I sat with the other press who looked on with either cynical glares or jaded yawns.

When it came time for the highly anticipated performance, us media types were asked to fill in around the back of the studio as the "ringer" audience members were invited to swarm the stage. Kanye stormed onto the stage to with his trademark sunglasses while a lineup of futuristicaly-dressed violinists summoned to fast-paced beat of “Stronger.” I watched with bemusement as the tweens clawed at his jeans and stuck their tongues out at any camera in the vicinity. A small but symbolic gap formed between the press and the ringers — the self-segregation of the converted and the atheists.

But as the eerie strains of "Can't Tell Me Nothing" rose up, I suddenly hit me that Kanye West was performing 5 feet in front of me. Timberland, Rihanna, and Chris Brown were watching from across the room. I shoved my notepad into my back pocket, threw my arms up in the air, and crossed that invisible line. When Common ran out for a verse from "The People," I may have let out an clumsy, "WOO HOO!" My voice may have even cracked a little bit. Whatevs. I guess what they say is true — Tweens have more fun.

I no longer have any shame in my game. For that, I have only TRL to thank.