From blimps to boy bands, Pearlman is responsible for the longest Ponzi scheme in U.S. history
For a number of years young music artists called Lou Pearlman their "Big Poppa," but in reality he was a conman who devastated thousands of people, running the longest Ponzi scheme in American history. In the Netflix docuseries Dirty Pop: The Boy Band Scam Chris Kirkpatrick from *NSYNC, AJ McLean and Howie Dorough from the Backstreet Boys , Erik-Michael Estrada from O-Town, and Michael Johnson and Patrick King from the boy band Natural, all reveal what it was like to be discovered by and operate under Pearlman.
What makes the story of Pearlman particularly fascinating is both the scope of his fraud, but also his ability to create some of the biggest musical sensations in history. Kirkpatrick describes this feat as creating a "crazy explosion of culture."
"There would be no *NSYNC, there would be no Backstreet Boys without Lou, period," McLean says in the docuseries. "But some of us still have wounds that have never healed, that may never heal."
It all started in the 1980s with blimps -- as bizarre as that may sound. Pearlman was a blimp salesman who transitioned to plane rentals through his company Trans Continental Airlines. Like many people, Pearlman was taken by the star power of the hottest boy band at the time, New Kids On The Block.
That seemingly started Pearlman's fascination with creating a boy band, and Backstreet Boys were the guinea pigs, so to speak.
Getting some money from friends with "connections" on Wall Street, who Jerry Rosen says in the docuseries were mob connections, "unbeknownst to [him]," Pearlman started his journey of being a star maker.
"If Backstreet Boys turn out to be a dominant brand like Coke, someone is going to come along and create a Pepsi. We might as well beat them to it," we see Pearlman say in Dirty Pop, which is what started his transition to creating *NSYNC.
While pop music fans saw that bit of rivalry between Backstreet Boy and *NSYNC in pop culture, it went much deeper. While Backstreet Boys were massive in Germany, topping the charts, Pearlman was working with *NSYNC in Florida. As Melissa Moylan, Pearlman's artist rep describes, it was a "hush hush" project, a surprise to the Backstreet Boys when they returned to the U.S.
"When I met Lou it was the first time I felt some security of, I felt like now if my car breaks down, Lou could help out," Kirkpatrick describes in Dirty Pop, who was working at Outback Steakhouse before *NSYNC made it big.
But things got questionable when, as Kirkpatrick reveals, *NSYNC got their first cheque and it was for $10,000.
"The smart one JC said, 'How much do you make in a year at Outback?' I was like oh, shit," Kirkpatrick recalls in the docuseries.
McLean said that bandmate Brian Littrell opened the group's eye to something not being right in their pay for their work.
"If you make a deal with the devil, he's not not going to show up as the devil, because you wouldn't make a deal," Kirkpatrick says in Dirty Pop about Pearlman, who all the members of the boy bands called "Big Poppa."
Backstreet Boys ended up suing Pearlman, saying he pocketed 43 per cent of their profits, while *NSYNC hired lawyers to try to get out of their contract with Pealman's Trans Continental corporation.
As Cheney Mason, Pearlman's then-defence attorney reveals in the docuseries, Pearlman made himself the sixth member of Backstreet Boys and *NSYNC, meaning he was entitled to "rewards" for what he did with them.
Backstreet Boys and *NSYNC members ended up settling with Pearlman, with Mason revealing the amount was about $64 million.
Pearlman has famously been quoted responding to questions about when there won't be boy bands anymore by saying, "When god stops making little girls, and until then, it's never over."
That very much the case for Pearlman. He kept creating boy bands, like O-Town, Natural, LFO, Take 5 and Toronto-based group B4-4. He also expanded to girl groups with Innosense, with Britney Spears as an original member, who ended up breaking off from the group. Pearlman also worked with Aaron Carter and Brooke Hogan.
"Lou could meet you and identify your dream and within minutes would be selling that dream back to you in a way that was magical," Johnson says in Dirty Pop.
Johnson and bandmate King were aware of what happened with Backstreet Boy and *NSYNC before Natural signed a contracted with Pearlman. But this was not 2024 where aspiring artists could go viral on social media or had extensive ways of getting their own music out there, they just wanted any shot to try to reach their dreams. And Pearlman did come with an impressive list of successes.
"Beggars can't be choosers," as King says in the docuseries.
Where things really start to breakdown for Pearlman goes back to his Backstreet Boys and *NSYNC. Pearlman was supposed to not just pay Mason for his services as his defence attorney, but Mason was entitled to about $16 million of the settlement amount, which he never received. Making the move to sue Pearlman, his bank fraud was quickly discovered, which led to the discovery of the extent of his Ponzi scheme and how he spent 30 years scamming investors.
Pearlman ended up pleading guilty to conspiracy, money laundering, and making false claims in a bankruptcy, and was sentenced to 25 years in prison. He died while serving his sentence, in 2016, at the age of 62.
As Dirty Pop highlights at the end of the series, of the $500 million in funds Pearlman conned out of about 2,000 individuals and families, $10 million has been recovered to date.
While much of what is revealed in Dirty Pop won't be particularly new information to many who follow their 1990s and 2000s pop culture moments closely, it's interesting to see so many people still defending Pearlman's character.
For the boy band members, there's this process of coming to terms with the fact that someone they were so close to was a fraud, while also wrestling with the fact that they wouldn't have their careers without Pearlman.
"That's the monster that was my best friend," Johnson says in tears at the end of the docuseries.
The oddest moments from Dirty Pop certainly comes from a decision by the filmmakers to digitally alter video footage of Pearlman, generating his voice and synchronizing his lip movements so he's saying passages from his autobiography "Bands, Brands & Billions."
We have to say, AI went a little too far with that one. It's quite off-putting, which spoils much of the series far more than was likely intended.