I was a pimply tween who was afraid of talking to the boys in my class, so I spent most of 1998 in my bedroom hanging out with NSYNC. I listened to their albums on repeat, re-reading their CD inserts and memorizing their lyrics as quickly as I could.
My family moved around a lot when I was young, and my Discman was my constant companion. Being the new kid in class was scary, but NSYNC made me feel safe. Their music was void of angst, their melodies were catchy, and they could dance. Being a fan was fun; easy. And it gave me a sense of belonging when I felt lonely.
Anyone who has ever a) been a pre-teen girl or b) really loved a musician will understand what I mean when I say that I felt like I personally knew NSYNC. Thanks in large part to the teen magazines that profited off their fandom, I knew their birthdays, their favorite colors, and their cereal preferences. (I will go to my grave knowing that, in the late ‘90s, Justin Timberlake said he liked Cap’n Crunch.) When I was ten, my mom took me to see NSYNC in concert and I stared, wide-eyed, at the throngs of fans in matching t-shirts. It felt like a religious experience: I was a part of something bigger than me, safe in a sea of people chanting the same refrains. The next day, my voice was hoarse from screaming.
When NSYNC announced they were going on hiatus in 2002, I was crushed. It might sound silly, but I missed them. They had been a constant, comforting presence in my life, and their absence left a gaping hole. It was my first brush with heartbreak and, though I couldn’t fully articulate it at the time, it left me untethered. My journal entries from that year are sparse. After a few months, rewatching old interviews or music videos in my room felt sad; pathetic, almost. I started listening to new artists and broadening my musical interests, but, in some ways, the magic was gone. When Justin’s solo career began to take off, it hit me: they were moving on, and I had to do the same.
Two decades later, I was a new mom to a baby who wouldn't sleep. Three days after my son was born, NSYNC released “Better Place,” their first song in over twenty years. It felt like a fever dream; night after night I held my baby in the dark, postpartum hormones raging, feeling like we were the only two people awake in the world, with NSYNC blasting in my headphones. Their harmonies steadied me through matrescence (the physical, emotional, and hormonal transition to becoming a mother), much like they had helped me through puberty so many years earlier. It was a comforting, surreal experience that buoyed me in my early weeks of motherhood.
It wasn’t just their music – NSYNC was online, too. For so long, fans lapped up whatever we could get through intermediaries: magazine articles, fan clubs, half hour episodes of Making the Video on MTV. But now the guys were on social media, giving their first joint interviews in years, participating in TikTok trends, and teasing fans about upcoming reunion plans. I wondered what NSYNC’s relationship with their fans would have been like had we all been on social media at the peak of their fame.
“It could have been good and it could have been bad,” Lance Bass chuckled when I spoke with him last week. “We would have had that direct contact with our fans, but who knows what we would have gotten in trouble for, especially Joey Fatone. He probably would have posted some crazy pictures and offended people.”
Yes, you read that right – I chatted with Lance Bass as part of his promotional campaign for his new partnership with allergy medicine, Allegra. I did my best to play it cool, but, at five months postpartum, I still often feel like a raw nerve with no idea how to carry on normal conversations.
“Your sleep deprivation will get better,” Lance reassured me when I shared that I was a new mom and wondering when, exactly, I might feel like a real person again. Lance has twin toddlers, so he knows a thing (or two) about identity in parenthood. “I think it's so important to take care of yourself because the healthier you are, the better you are going to be with your kids.”
As we spoke, I marveled at how grounded and down to earth Lance seemed. At one point in time, he was one of the biggest celebrities in the world; he couldn’t go to the grocery store without being mobbed by paparazzi. Now, he was telling me how squeezing in 30 seconds of jumping jacks with his kids helps him stay healthy as a busy dad. It all seemed so normal. I wondered how he had processed the cultural phenomenon he experienced as part of NSYNC, and how he readjusted to life after they split.
“We didn't watch television, we didn't listen to the radio, we didn't read the magazines,” he recalled. “So we didn't know how big it had gotten. We did not realize what a fever pitch it was until later.”
After the group parted ways, Lance says he struggled to find his footing. (Same, Lance.) “It took us years to realize, ‘Oh wow, I don't think we're going to do any more music together because we have just all completely started our own lives.’ So it was a tough transition because I didn't know what I was going to do or where I belonged in this industry.”
Still, he looks back fondly on what he calls ‘the TRL era.’ And even though it broke my heart when it all ended, I look back fondly on it, too; racing home from school and excitedly tuning in to watch the latest music video premiere on MTV, connected to hundreds of thousands of people sitting in living rooms across the country.
As for this era, Lance seems equally thrilled about the opportunity social media is providing for reconnecting with fans in a more meaningful way. “It's such a different world, but I love it. I'm a Tiktoker now! I love it because the fans finally get to see the real me. I look at interviews with NSYNC and I'm like, ‘that is not Lance,’ you know? I was hiding such a huge part of myself and I was the most boring person in the world to interview because I didn't want to say anything. Now I get to show my true personality. I think the fans really got to know me after NSYNC, not during NSYNC.”
After we hung up, I thought about all the old versions of ourselves and the ones we hide because we are afraid. I thought about my younger self, lying on her bedroom floor reading lyrics, dreaming of becoming a writer one day. I so badly wanted to feel like I belonged back then; like I was a part of something bigger. NSYNC gave me that, and, in some ways, I resented them for leaving me on my own when they split. But I never thought about how young they all were at the time. Lance was just 23 when the group went on hiatus and still had so much growing up to do. We were all still on the cusp of becoming the next versions of ourselves, and the ones after that. We had to walk part of the way alone, but it feels good to be reunited now.
Xx
Sarah
Fucking epic!