The Backstreet Boys have always been larger than life, but this year, inside the towering, otherworldly walls of the Sphere in Las Vegas, they finally had a venue that matched the scope of their ambition. Their “Into the Millennium” residency has quickly become one of the Strip’s most essential tickets, and after seeing it unfold in person, it’s easy to understand why. What might have been a straightforward nostalgia play, a 25-song set built around their blockbuster 1999 album Millennium, instead felt like an epic collision of memory, pop spectacle, and futuristic stagecraft, a show that pushed the concept of a boy band reunion far beyond the expected.

From the opening blast of “Larger Than Life,” the group made it clear that this wasn’t going to be just another Vegas residency. The Sphere’s 160,000-square-foot LED dome, which has hosted some of the most ambitious visual productions in music history thus far, transformed the familiar anthem into something transcendent. Massive intergalactic backdrops engulfed the audience, as if AJ, Brian, Howie, Kevin, and Nick were inviting fans on a ride through space itself. When the chorus hit, the visuals exploded into a burst of neon stars and galaxies, and the crowd of thousands screamed like it was 1999 all over again.

But while the technology stole glances throughout the night, the show’s heart remained in its setlist. The band leaned heavily into Millennium, not just the chart-toppers that defined Y2K radio, but also the deep cuts that longtime fans never thought they’d hear live. Hearing “I Need You Tonight” sung in the middle of the Sphere, with its acoustic arrangement accompanied by visuals of swirling city lights, felt like stepping back into a forgotten memory. “The Perfect Fan,” a ballad often overlooked in the group’s catalog, was delivered with disarming sincerity, accompanied by a montage of childhood photos projected around the dome, a reminder that beneath the gloss and choreography, this band has always thrived on its emotional connection with fans.

The surprises didn’t stop with the old material. Midway through the show, the Boys slipped in “Hey,” a brand-new single released as part of the Millennium 2.0 reissue. It was a bold statement in a show otherwise fueled by nostalgia: proof that the band still sees itself as a creative force, not just a legacy act. And while some fans might have come purely for the classics, the reception was deafening. For a few minutes, the Sphere was less a time capsule and more a bridge between eras, showing that the Backstreet Boys aren’t finished writing their story.

Still, the production flourishes couldn’t be ignored. The Sphere’s enveloping visuals gave every song its own cinematic universe. During “As Long As You Love Me,” the group performed in a giant immersive spaceship. And then there was “I Want It That Way,” performed on a levitating platform that slowly rose in the sky. While the moment was breathtaking, the entire room gasped as the platform floated upward under a canopy of glowing constellations, it carried a touch of real tension. At a show so dedicated to spectacle, that moment of vulnerability stood out as one of the night’s most affecting.

The group’s chemistry, honed over three decades, gave the night its warmth. Between songs, they cracked jokes, made “we’re back again” puns, teased one another, and shared gratitude with the crowd, balancing the larger-than-life setting with moments of intimacy. They know exactly who their audience is and how to make them feel seen, whether that was through extended sing-alongs on “Shape of My Heart” or simply pausing to take in the roar of fans who have been waiting decades for an event of this magnitude.

By the time the encore rolled around, the night had built into a euphoric release. “I Want It That Way” left the room swaying in unison, voices echoing through the cavernous dome, but it was “Everybody (Backstreet’s Back)” that brought the house down at the end of the night. Lasers cut across the sky and the band danced with the same energy they did in their prime. For a few minutes, it didn’t matter that we were in 2025, or that the band has been around for more than 30 years. The Backstreet Boys had collapsed time entirely, pulling everyone into the same timeless joy.

Walking out of the Sphere, the sense was overwhelming: this wasn’t just another Vegas spectacle. It was a reminder that pop music at its best can be both comfortingly familiar and daringly ambitious, that nostalgia doesn’t have to be passive, and that the right band in the right venue can still surprise you decades into their career. The Backstreet Boys didn’t just bring their fans back to the late ’90s; they redefined what that era means in the present. With their new residency, the Backstreet Boys proved that the phrase “Backstreet’s back” isn’t just a chorus. It’s a promise!