ReNSYNC!

The unmaking of mega-boy band 'N Sync

Behind the music Nsync R Editor's note: Some in the music industry think this is the last hurrah for the current crop of boy bands. Which got us to thinking: What will the boys in 'N Sync do when the screaming subsides? We looked into our crystal ball and conjured up this transcript from a May 2021 episode of VH1's Behind the Music.
Twenty years ago, 'N Sync was 'n stoppable. Their designer clothes bulging with cash, the five handsome angels danced, sang and smiled their way to pop superstardom. But fame had a darker side, a side the public never saw. Their chart-topping success led to conflict, depression, addiction and rehabilitation. Tonight, in their own words, the men of 'N Sync discuss the breakup, the aftermath and the painful process of reconciliation. So join us as we go behind the music . . . with 'N Sync.
JC: I suppose the group began disintegrating soon after opening night in Jacksonville. We had just embarked on our Pop Odyssey tour, the whole notion of which I found vulgar and ostentatious.
You must remember, from Day 1 I'd been taking clandestine correspondence classes with the Sorbonne, who made special arrangements for my education because of my fascination with the Modernists, particularly the seminal works of Ezra Pound and T.S. Eliot. I never told our fans about this, because our managers didn't want me to seem unapproachably intellectual, which I happened to think was a ludicrous mandate.
Nevertheless, the tour made it impossible to study. Our production team worked us 16 hours a day, trying to conjure up a way to teleport us across the stadium during Bye Bye Bye. That's what really postponed the show five days, for anyone interested in revisionist history.
Lance: The producers wanted us to strike these tough guy poses after we teleported across the stadium, but I couldn't do it -- the posing part, I mean.
You see, midway through our career I surgically froze a look of boyish glee onto my face to save me the energy of constantly looking happy. I thought we needed to smile to win over the pre-teen girl demographic. No one told me I would have to scowl to attract the mid-teen girl demographic!
It made me want to cry, but have you ever tried to cry with an immovable face?
Justin: Lance really held us back all those years, but people said we needed another blond guy, so lucky him. Anyway, check this out: Me and Britney had this whole thing drawn up for Jacksonville where she would descend from a blimp during the encore, slide down a flaming tightrope to the stage, and then lip syn . . . er . . . sing a duet with me. It would have been great, but the other guys wouldn't let us do it. They said it would have been a quote-unquote distraction. Speaking of blimps, though, you should have seen Joey around that time.
Narrator: For member Joey Fatone, the eponymous fan nickname "Joey Fat One" became a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Joey: I showed up for the Jacksonville rehearsals just bloated beyond belief after a three-month Krispy Kreme binge. Every morning I'd have my driver stop at the window, and I'd eat 10, maybe 12, crullers at a time.
They say crullers are the gateway doughnut, and that's definitely true. I couldn't stop eating them, and then before long I had moved on to the harder stuff. I knew I needed help, but we had this whole Pop Odyssey thing taking up our time. And then the Justin/Britney controversy erupted.
Justin: So what, you know? Yeah we wanted the spotlight, but we were the real talents -- the best-looking teen-pop singers on Earth.
And we were smart, too. Not to cast spurs, but nobody else had a backup plan. They thought cute little Justin Timberlake was just going to slum in 'N Sync forever. But once I left the band after the Jacksonville show, me and Britney went back to Orlando to launch our backup plan -- a women's clothing line called Timber-Ho.
It was beautiful. The clothes were so small that they cost almost nothing to make. But because we were who we were, we could charge 300 percent over cost. It's not my fault those other guys became nobodies after we broke up.
Chris: You know, it's really a shame about all the animosity. I mean, we became rich and famous for just a little bit of singing and dancing. It's frankly incredible that we had any kind of staying power at all, but our fans loved us, and we really did love them, too.
To think that we broke up because Justin wanted to involve Britney in the shows -- that's just childish. A guest appearance only would have helped us. Heck, even if she had become a member of the group, we probably would have been able to raise the level of our music and make more money, too.
I'm just glad that I was mature enough to handle the breakup when it happened. Of course, I was actually 45 by the time of the Jacksonville show, so maybe that had something to do with it.
Narrator: Later in the show
. . . Joey gets help, Lance gets mad and Justin gets a visitor. That's all coming up when Behind the Music returns.
Joey: The breakup hit me like a punch in the gut. No, a punch in the face. I guess a punch in the gut probably wouldn't have hurt very much.
After Justin left us standing in the bowels of that stadium, I sunk into a depression deeper than an industrial-sized vat of lard. By the end of the year I had moved up to eating chocolate-covered glazed doughnuts which, if you know anything about pastries, are as addictive as it gets. Eating a C-CGD is like getting a full-body massage from a team of 20-fingered Swedish women. Still, I thought I could control my cravings -- I mean when you're richer than five South American nations, you seem pretty invincible.
Eventually, though, I realized what C-CGDs were doing to my life. I'd alienated my fans, my friends, my personal chef, my clothing designer -- Versace doesn't even make jeans with a 46-inch waist.
After staying up one final night, out of my mind on a sugar high, I finally went sober -- cold turkey, with just a little mayo. God, I had withdrawal symptoms that whole next morning. But, [sniffing, dabbing at eyes] I guess you have to grow up sooner or later.
JC: It's hard for me to be sympathetic about the whole Joey debacle, particularly since he didn't even have the interesting self-destructive tendencies of such legendary musical addicts as Keith Richards, Charlie Parker and Sid Vicious. Even Faulkner and Hemingway ravaged their own livers with alcohol. Joey just ate a bunch of doughnuts. What's so tragic about that?
Lance: Yeah, I mean, I'm sitting here with a disfigured face. People magazine actually ran a cover story called "Lance Bass just keeps on smiling" after my Sir-Lance-A-Lot solo record bombed. [Points to the camera] I'll show you depression, fat boy!
Narrator: As JC and Lance quarreled with Joey into the 2010s, the Timber-Ho clothing line continued to do astounding business as new waves of teens emulated Britney's naturally unattainable proportions with synthetic halter tops.
Jealous -- and for the most part bored -- JC, Lance and Joey put aside their differences, aligning against the babyfaced Justin. The experienced Chris Kirkpatrick would have helped, but the aging singer was sidelined with a broken hip. As a result, JC came up with the plan.
Right after the break, JC reveals the plot to sever the Timber-Ho alliance . . . when Behind the Music returns.
JC: We knew that Justin and Britney were made for each other. The vanity, the ambition -- they were like a vacuous Scott and Zelda. In order to bring down their empire, we knew we needed to hire a professional. We needed someone bright, someone exotic, someone with experience breaking up famous musical teams. We needed Yoko Ono.
We flew Ono to Orlando, arranging for her to interrupt Justin and Britney's weekly dinner at Dave & Buster's. She wouldn't even have to say anything. She just has this aura that makes promising young talents crumble like so many graham crackers. She'd just have to enter the room, and Justin would swear off Britney like Stephen Daedalus swore off his native Dublin.
It was the perfect plan, even more perfect than The Waste Land. We sent Yoko to Orlando in April, the cruelest month. Justin: I was just sitting there, right, eating a burger, when in walks this . . . goddess. She was all dressed in black, just strolling past the air-hockey table. She was tearing up my heart right from the start.
She just kind of glided by, looking at me from behind these tinted glasses. I can totally understand why Mick Jagger left the Rolling Stones for her.
Narrator: Justin tried to win Yoko Ono's favor with an impromptu rendering of the running man dance step. Ono, the opposite of impressed, stepped into a waiting sedan. Justin would never see her again.
Justin: I still think about her hair, all swept into a bun or whatever. She was amazing. Britney left me after I chased Ms. Ono onto the street. She just sold her stake in the business to Jennifer Lopez and went back to Louisiana. I couldn't keep the line going without her. What was I going to do, call it Timber-Lo?
Narrator: Four long years after the fall of Timber-Ho, Justin started thinking about reconciliation.
Justin: I called Chris -- he was always super mature -- to see if he wanted to get the band back together.
Chris [now 65]: I said sure, young man, why not? But this time let's sing some Andy Williams tunes, and maybe a little Jerry Vale -- the stuff we grew up with . . . or at least the stuff I grew up with.
Narrator: Chris rounded up JC, Lance and Joey, who abandoned their dietary supplement store 'N Zinc for the prospective riches of a re-formed 'N Sync.
The quintet's new album, No Canes Attached, has already reached the top of the Billboard Adult Contemporary chart. Their forthcoming American tour, which stops in 33 Elk's Clubs across America, is expected to sell out well in advance.


By: Jade*
Sent in by: YaStarz101@aol.com

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