Lou Pearlman Targeted Latino Youth In His Boy Band Scams

In the early 1990s, Lou Pearlman formed the Backstreet Boys, arguably kicking off the boy band fever that took over in the ensuing years. Repeating the same formula, Pearlman founded or managed other groups, including *NSYNC, O-Town, and LFO, building an empire by finding impressionable young men who aspired to fame and turning them into mainstream pop entertainment acts. Operating out of Orlando, Florida, Pearlman and his infamous company, Trans Continental, are responsible for a 1990s- and 2000s-era pop culture phenomenon — and stealing around $300 million from various investors. 

A new Netflix docu-series, Dirty Pop: The Boy Band Scam, tells the story of the Florida-based producer, who swindled the bands, as well as their investors — many of whom were families with no ties to the industry — out of hundreds of thousands of dollars each. Now known as a leader of one of the longest-running Ponzi schemes in U.S. history, Pearlman hid his fraudulent practices behind glossy, commercially appealing boy bands. While groups of that era were not typically diverse, working out of Orlando — which in the ‘90s became one of the top destinations for Puerto Ricans from the archipelago and the Northeast — means Latino youth, like AJ McLean and Howie Dorough of the Backstreet Boys and O-Town’s Erik-Michael Estrada, got caught in his web of deceit. 

Pearlman operated across several business dealings while stealing large amounts of money, but the boy bands he created served as evidence of his knowledge and savoir-faire in the music industry. More than a decade after his arrest, Dirty Pop: The Boy Band Scam shows how his involvement with Backstreet Boys, *NSYNC, and O-Town proved to investors that he could make them large amounts of money. It also delves into the exploitation these boy banders dealt with at the hands of Pearlman’s greed.

The victims tell stories of Pearlman parading them like show ponies at parties, conferences, and other events to persuade investors to give Pearlman money that he would supposedly invest in the boy bands’ careers. 

In the series, Estrada, who is of Puerto Rican descent, says Pearlman had a talent for intuitively understanding someone’s dream and “selling that dream back to you like magic.” Just as some see being an influencer as a way to become rich today, in the ‘90s and 2000s, joining a successful boy band drew the attention of young men who wanted a better life. In Orlando, largely because of Pearlman’s influence, he could scout Latino boys and young men and market them to young girls and women looking for eye candy. 

As Cuban-Puerto Rican McLean, Puerto Rican Dorough, and Estrada found a way to provide for their families through singing and dancing, Pearlman had a way to con investors all while controlling young men. Pearlman embedded the boy band field with competitiveness, openly creating *NSYNC as a Backstreet Boys rival to push the members of both bands to work as hard as they could. As the bands rose to success, Pearlman became known as the “purveyor of pop music,” despite his staff admitting he had zero experience in the music industry prior to the Backstreet Boys’ success. This attracted families that invested their life savings into his boy band-making business.

While the members of Backstreet Boys and *NSYNC managed to get out of Pearlman’s clutches as soon as their fame skyrocketed, other victims of Pearlman’s schemes weren’t so lucky. The doc chronicles the story of Frank Vasquez, one of the company’s top executives, for the first time. Sources close to Pearlman and Vasquez disclose that the executive knew Pearlman’s business dealings weren’t legal or morally right. Vasquez allegedly confronted Pearlman about his scamming but died soon after by carbon monoxide poisoning after sitting in his Porsche in his closed garage in October of 2003. While there are some suspicions about the apparent suicide, it’s evident Vasquez’s family holds Pearlman responsible for the mental distress that led him to take his life. It’s unclear what Vasquez knew and how everything transpired, but given that Pearlman’s arrest happened three years later, the series heavily implies Vasquez was about to upend Pearlman’s schemes. 

At the end of Pearlman’s career as a conman, he owed money to about 1,800 investors, primarily from Florida and New York. Nearly 800 of these investors hailed from the Tampa Bay area. Collectively, he owed them $78 million. Much of this money came from years of family savings that individuals hoped would turn a profit. Instead, Pearlman pocketed the money, buying mansions and high-end cars.  

Pearlman didn't just prey on Latino men and boys hoping to make it big, he also swindled Latine families out of their money — though the docu-series doesn't explore this fact. In the absence of business skills, Pearlman used his charm to get people to trust him with their savings. Through word-of-mouth and shining beacons of success — namely the Backstreet Boys and *NSYNC — Latine families also invested in Pearlman’s business. They felt safe to do so because his success was undeniable. Whether chasing the American Dream or seeing an easy way to make money fast, they hoped to financially establish themselves.

Some of the former boy band members explain that Pearlman’s schemes hurt their reputation as well. Many family members believed members of O-Town and the Backstreet Boys were in on the scam — even though Pearlman cheated them out of money, too.

The docuseries sheds light on how crimes that took place more than two decades ago are still affecting people today — at a time when many of us have moved past displaying Tiger Beat posters of our favorite '90s-era boy banders. It also digs into allegations that Pearlman was a predator. While former members have called him out for inappropriate behavior like asking to see how fit certain members of the boy bands were, the docu-series didn’t find any victims to speak out against Pearlman. While it tried to delve into the power dynamics between Pearlman and the boy bands, it didn’t execute it well. For example, the team behind the series could have tapped experts to speak on how Pearlman’s exploitation of young men could lead to more egregious physical and sexual abuse. Instead, all the series does is mention possible allegations and move on.

Following Pearlman’s arrest in 2006, a court charged him with conspiracy, money laundering, and filing false bankruptcy. Convicted and sentenced to 25 years in 2008, he went into cardiac arrest in 2016 while in prison.