What Went Wrong?
JUSTIN GUARINI went from 'Idol' to idle in one cruel summer. Now he
claims he's not to blame. Does Sideshow Bob deserve another shot? You be the
judge.
Karen Valby, with additional reporting by Karyn L. Barr and Michael Endelman
Entertainment Weekly, March 5, 2004
Eighteen months after the first episode of American Idol, Justin Guarini
arrives at his favorite fast-food restaurant, a Mexican joint in the San
Fernando Valley. Familiar and flirtatious, he'll have his hand on your back
within minutes. He still hasn't trimmed back that broccoli head of curls
("I'm not going to just cut my hair and say, 'Hey, look everybody! I'm new
now! Like me!'"). He's wearing a T-shirt that some of his Kentucky fans
gave him, with two lipstick smacks over his nipples, perhaps as a reminder of
better days. His cell sits on the table, ringing and bleating text messages.
"Wassup, lover lady!" he sings into the phone. "I've been working
all afternoon. I'm being interviewed. Yeah! I'm back, baby!"
Do you remember Justin? The girls used to love him, showing up in droves to the
American Idol set wearing "Lustin' for Justin" T-shirts. But that was
before he mouthed off to judge Simon Cowell and Idol audiences wondered if he
was just another hack with attitude. Before he lost to Kelly Clarkson in the
final round. Before their embarrassing spin-off movie, From Justin to Kelly, and
his flop album. Before Clarkson and second-season kings Clay Aiken and Ruben
Studdard racked up multiplatinum CD sales and, for Kelly and Ruben, Grammy
nominations. Before RCA knocked Guarini from its roster. Before he realized how
quickly the real world can turn on a star of its own making. "Oh, so much
went wrong," he moans. "It's naaasty, and people need to know the real
story. As far as I'm concerned, Justin from American Idol is dead."
Now the 25-year-old singer is starting over with new manager Benny Medina, who
shepherded the likes of Jennifer Lopez to superstardom. "I'm here to
entertain," he says (Guarini is prone to regrettable declarations of
purpose). "To bring joy to people, to bring light to dark places of the
world." He's currently meeting with songwriters and producers and vows to
have a No. 1 album, with roots in old-school Stevie Wonder and retro funk,
within the next two years. He also wants to land a solid gig on a WB-style teen
drama. (In the meantime, he'll have to settle for a week on Hollywood Squares
this March.) He refuses to accept that his time may have passed. "Oh, no no
no, f--- no. I didn't go through this whole experience to fail or to be screwed
over by other people. This is not the end!"
For the last several months, the Doylestown, PA., native has been shacking up at
old family friend Brenda Richie's Bel Air estate. (And despite the rumors on
fansites, Guarini says he's not dating her daughter, Simple Life star Nicole.)
He wakes up every morning at 7:30. He has a protein shake. He spends the next
two hours focusing, harnessing his energy for the day ahead. When he drives his
rented Lexus IS300 to the gym--where he meets with his trainer every day at 10
a.m. for weights and tae kwon do--he listens to books on tape, motivational
thumpers like The Alchemist or Rich Dad, Poor Dad. He eats six times a day. No
meat. Doesn't drink. He goes to sleep early after downing another protein shake.
"I'm all about efficiency right now," he says. "Because I have to
be deadly accurate with what I'm doing with my career. One more
strike and who knows? 'Ya struck out with the movie! Ya struck out with the
first album!' Three strikes and you're out."
So how did it all come to this? After the Idol finale in September 2002, Guarini
was one of America's biggest stars, with a fat record contract and an ardent
teen fanbase. He went into the studio last March to record his album, working
with an all-star team that included executive producer Clive Davis. But RCA
execs (who declined to comment for this story) presented Guarini with a
five-song demo of adult-contemporary-style tracks that left him stunned.
"With the exception of one song, I would have chucked the thing out the
window," he says. "I was horrified." He complained to 19
Management--the firm helmed by Simon Fuller and Simon Cowell to which all Idol
artists are signed--and was told to pipe down and play along. One song (Guarini
won't say which, but logic points to his first single, an uninspired remake of
"Unchained Melody") upset the singer so much that he flat-out refused
to record it, pulling out of a costly session at the last minute. RCA execs
flipped; in the end, Justin caved.
After months of frustrating haggling over the recording process, RCA presented
Guarini with one last tune. "It was, like, a big karaoke thing," he
says. "It wasn't a track that was designed for me. It was just a place
filler." When he balked, he says the label gave him an ultimatum. "I
was told, 'You're going to record this song and put it on your album, or else
we're going to give the song to Clay and we're going to release your album in
the summer.' Which is shorthand for 'We're just going to put you off
forever.'"
Once again, Guarini gave in. "Looking at the big picture, I was like, 'F---
it, I'll do it.'" Months later, he still can't bear to listen to himself.
"It's gut-wrenching," he says. "I don't want to hear the song
again, ever. To have to perform it over and over again...this album honestly was
just chipping away at the love I have for music."
By the time Justin Guarini came out last June, RCA, it seems, had lost
interest. The album limped into stores, debuting at an embarrassing No. 20 on
the Billboard 200. The following week, From Justin to Kelly bombed (taking in a
dismal $ 2.9 million at the box office its first weekend), while the CD
plummeted 31 spots. "Timing was crucial, and the label put his record out
the same time as Clay and Ruben's singles," says Idol judge Paula Abdul.
"Artists are dependent on the company that signs us to get the word out.
Not enough people knew about his album."
Guarini says the only reason he got any promotion at all last summer was because
of Kelly Clarkson. "I got to tag along," he says. "If Kelly's
album hadn't done well, I think I would have been taking a dirt nap. It's
disgusting. You feel emasculated. How does that make me feel like a man?"
But he insists the two are still on friendly terms. "I saw her a couple
weeks ago. I mean, we're friends but we don't talk every day on the phone."
(Clarkson declined to comment.)
Radio ignored his "Unchained Melody" remake. "Justin's
cover...yuck!" says Romeo, a DJ and assistant music director for New York
City Top 40 powerhouse Z100. "'Unchained Melody' shouldn't be touched. But
the guy is a runner-up on a TV show, so I'm sure he didn't have 100 percent say
in what he wanted to do. The women loved him, but I just don't think that the
music was there."
The second single, "Sorry," also failed to connect. "From more
than one program director I talked to," says Guarini, "when they were
approached from RCA, it was like, 'We've got Kelly's single! And we got Ruben
and Clay! And, [waving his hand dismissively] oh, yeah, we have Justin.'"
Without airplay, RCA scrapped plans for a video, which killed whatever slim
chance the album had left. A few months later, RCA dumped him without so much as
a handshake. He found out he'd been dropped when he read about it in a magazine.
Maybe Guarini just didn't have what it takes. "People want to see not just
that you can sing, but that there's something about you," says Kevin Liles,
president of Def Jam/Def Soul Records. "I think that's what he was missing.
Any artist has to have that aura, and I don't think he had it."
Unsurprisingly, Simon Cowell put it more bluntly when he recently told a
magazine: "Justin is, and I mean this as a compliment, a sort of
wedding-singer entertainer."
Guarini, meanwhile, takes comfort where he can find it. The other day he read a
story on stars' humble roots. "Jennifer Aniston, Brad Pitt, Clooney, Johnny
Depp, all these huge names had so many failures." It infuriates him when
people say he's over. He is not a has-been! Oh, no no no. "Alicia
Keys!" exclaims Guarini. "Alicia Keys, her first [record-label]
experience was awful. It was much like mine. It was totally mishandled. But when
she got with the right people, when she sat down with Clive Davis..." He
stops himself as it dawns on him that this might not be the best example. Keys,
after all, hit it big working with the man who cut Justin loose.
Guarini says he doesn't have time to watch the third season of Idol. But if he
could get those kids together, he'd remind them of his own cautionary tale.
"As successful as that machine is, there are so many people who have fallen
through the cracks that you don't hear about. Mine was a real high-profile
debacle, but there are a lot of others who felt the sting of this monolith. Who
were used and chucked. American Idol is one of those things where you have to
realize that you're being used for entertainment and you better use it
back."
If you'd talked to Guarini six months ago, he would have cursed Idol and rued
the day he signed up. While he still hates his ex-record label, he's forgiven
the show. "But honestly, my reality now is making sure I make my
comeback." Even he can't help laughing at himself. "Oh! My! God! I'm
making my comeback at 25 years old! Wow. That's hilarious."
BOX STORY:
Wrong Numbers
American Idol turned three grads into pop stars. As for Justin, well...just take
a look at Nielsen SoundScan's latest sales figures:
CLAY AIKEN Measure of a Man 2.3 million
KELLY CLARKSON Thankful 1.9 million
RUBEN STUDDARD Soulful 1.4 million
JUSTIN GUARINI Justin Guarini 139,000
"So much went wrong," moans Guarini. "It's naaasty, and people
need to know the real story. As far as I'm concerned, Justin from American Idol
is dead."