Livin’ La Wango Tango

It would be nice to say the piercing screams and thunderous applause accompanying every second of Ricky Martin’s set, which closed the KIIS-FM (102.7) Wild Wild Wango Tango concert at Dodger Stadium on Saturday, were in celebration of his uniting of cultures and tastes with his salsa-pop bilingual crossover. Ditto for the roar that greeted Enrique Iglesias’ one-song appearance.

The truth is, the noise was largely due to the fact that they’re hunks.

Martin is also a winning entertainer, though. In his first Los Angeles appearance since his first English-language album and hit single “Livin’ La Vida Loca” made him the pop sensation of the moment, the former Menudo member furthered the impression he made on the Grammy show in February with his energetic, loose-limbed moves and irrepressible smile.

But multicultural, multi-taste cohesion was nonetheless the mark of the event. Here we had chart-topping acts from hip-hop-pop (Will Smith), teen-pop (Britney Spears, 98 Degrees), dance-pop (Spears, again), pop-rock (Blondie) and pop-reggae (UB40 and Shaggy)--as well as hitmakers from past eras (MC Hammer, Milli Vanilli’s Fabrice Morvan, Nancy Sinatra and, here too, Blondie)--all appealing to the same 50,000 people in a packed stadium.

Kudos to KIIS for achieving that mix in a time when radio is being fragmented into narrower musical niches. Compare it to next weekend’s KROQ-FM (106.7) Weenie Roast, which has tightened its focus on hard-edged testosterone territory.

The irony is that with the Western theme of Wango Tango--a promotional tie-in to Smith’s upcoming movie, “Wild Wild West”--the one glaring absence on the bill was country music. But they could have done just fine with that, too, since Shania Twain is a KIIS staple these days.

This is boom time for the station’s neo-Top 40 format, with stars coming from all across the pop spectrum, bringing with them as wide a range of fans as you could hope to find. And the breadth of this show was the payoff.

Grisela Sanchez and Andrea Ruiz, both 20, paid $250 each for prime seats, mostly because of Martin (they were big fans before his crossover move). But the friends said that the variety of the day was also a big attraction, and is the reason they listen to the station.

“With all the different things they play you don’t get sick of anything,” said Sanchez, a receptionist from La Puente, shortly before Martin’s set.

The problem is there’s no depth. This is all about hits, not about development or evolution. And Sanchez and Ruiz are fearful that this environment could work against their hero.

“I’m worried that [Martin] might burn out in the English pop market like so many others do,” said Sanchez. “He’s been so stable in the Latin market.”

Smith, who put on the most electrifying of the day’s generally brief sets, has transcended pop irrelevance by being a terrific, eminently likable entertainer and, of course, by becoming a huge movie star, not by building a meaningful body of musical work. On Saturday he only offered four songs, dazzling not with artistic acumen but with showmanship and flash--neatly choreographed presentations with a cast of dozens and a costume change for each number.

But at least he’s a distinctive personality. You certainly don’t get that from 98 Degrees or Spears, both of whom seemed merely packaged products.

98 Degrees is to the Backstreet Boys what Kajagoogoo was to Duran Duran. If you remember Kajagoogoo, you get the point. If you’ve never heard of Kajagoogoo, that is the point. The less said about the group’s ludicrous performance--how could anyone make a pretentious entrance out of plexiglass sci-fi cylinders after Spinal Tap?--the better.

Spears, too, in a short segment that had more emphasis on dance moves than anything else and in which she appeared to be largely lip-syncing, showed no signs of distinctive talent or persona. It was all by the numbers, pure commerce with no hint of art. The teen’s songs could just as well be done by any one of a dozen contemporary performers.

Most troubling was her appearance in tight, black shiny pants and hot pink, midriff-revealing top. Concerns expressed after her Lolita-esque photos in Rolling Stone have not chastened her (or her marketing team), and this presentation only further blurred the line between teen-pop and teen-porn.

If 98 Degrees or Spears are looking for cautionary tales, there were several to see Saturday. MC Hammer, who in 1990 was every bit as hot as Martin is now, seemed desperate to show that he can be relevant today. But in the end, he had little to offer but nostalgia novelty. And while Morvan (who hosts a daily oldies show on KIIS) gets a sort-of underdog support for having survived the Milli Vanilli fiasco with a measure of dignity and proved in a brief, amiable set that he can actually sing for himself, it would take some sort of miracle to put him on the pop charts again.

Spears certainly sees herself as a Smith-in-the-making. But for every Smith there are hundreds of Hammers and Morvans sitting around wondering whatever happened. Enjoy the screams while you can.