Why the world chose the wrong NSYNC solo star

The break-up of One Direction was the most devastating event of 2016 (edging out Brexit, Donald Trump’s election as US president, a historic global heatwave, and David Bowie’s death). Thankfully, Harry Styles has helped soften the blow of that ever-so-painful split, having since established what might be the greatest solo career of any post-boy-band pop star ever.

His fourth solo record, Kiss All the Time. Disco, Occasionally, was a surprisingly ambitious album that defied expectations. He will officially be chiselled onto the Mount Rushmore of “boy band members successfully gone solo”, alongside Bobby Brown, Justin Timberlake and Robbie Williams, whenever the government finally responds to my grant applications.

Most do not reach such a rarefied status. It’s not easy to find stardom outside the harmonies, jumpsuits and two-step choreography – to avoid the sneers of musical literati who view a headset mic as a scarlet letter.

It’s the early 2000s, and the golden era of the boy band is coming to an end. Blonde highlights and shiny tracksuits abound, and every song on the radio is written by Swedish hitmaker Max Martin. But manager supremo Lou Pearlman’s musical empire is slowly crumbling, as Backstreet Boys, NSYNC and O-Town all break up, sue him, or both.

Justin Timberlake teams up with Timbaland and The Neptunes, who lend their considerable street cred to his post-NSYNC debut album, Justified and help him craft a cooler, more mature sound, launching him to solo mega-stardom. And in the wake of that success, another former NSYNC member takes a wild swing.

But if we’ve learnt anything from the history of bands post-break-up, it’s that one singer’s success is not the tide that raises all boats. This is Highlander, and there can be only one.

Unfortunately, that means that the most fascinating and ambitious post-boy-band album ever recorded went largely unnoticed at the time of its release, and has since been lost to history. It’s sonically sprawling, remarkably diverse, and well ahead of its time. It’s way more interesting than Justified, and even more unexpected and visionary than Kiss All the Time. Disco, Occasionally.

It’s 2004’s Schizophrenic by JC Chasez.

Veering away from his conventional, radio-friendly roots and heavily manicured image as a teen heart-throb, JC’s debut record was like a mad scientist hunkered over beakers in a dirty lab (except instead of crazy white hair and a bald spot, he had an emo fringe and a bizarre goatee). The result was an album that crossbred pop, new wave, electronica, rock, disco, soul and reggae. It’s a messy, rich concoction.

Full disclosure: lyrically, Schizophrenic can be tough going. It certainly wouldn’t pass muster in 2026. In classic early-2000s fashion, the songs are juvenile, silly, and several attempts at empowering women now come across as horribly dated. But musically, it’s riveting.

While Timberlake reached for a soulful, R&B-flavoured sound on Justified, Chasez reached for … well, everything. Almost every song is over four minutes long. The first single, Some Girls (Dance with Women), is a slinky smooth tune, simmering calypso rhythms rolling hypnotically over an entranced dance floor – a club number that carouses gently, inspiring involuntary hip movement with a whisper.

There’s Boyz II Men-style R&B on Build My World, candy coated alt-rock on If You Were My Girl, and the kind of acoustic folk-pop on Something Special that would later become the bread and butter of Jason Mraz and early Bruno Mars. JC channels his inner Prince on 100 Ways, charismatic swagger over thrusting power pop.

She Got Me is the single best Michael Jackson song that isn’t a Michael Jackson song – a powerful, yearning vocal performance over a criminally funky bassline, kinetic verses that build into an explosive pop chorus, reverberant and captivating. Even Mercy, the closest thing on the album to an NSYNC song, is built on unusually jagged production and vocals that occasionally swerve recklessly into hair metal.

The record’s crown jewel is All Day Long I Dream About Sex. It’s a six-minute synth pop extravaganza, playful and propulsive, a wondrous mishmash of 2000s alt-rock and ’80s electronica featuring an earworm chorus begging to be shouted by a bouncing crowd.

Schizophrenic is an underappreciated work of art. It was revolutionary for the day, and still (mostly) holds up. A defiant statement by a musician who refused to be pigeonholed, who wore his influences as well as he wore his statement facial hair.

Find out the next TV, streaming series and movies to add to your must-sees. Get The Watchlist delivered every Thursday.