Milli Vanilli’s Fab Morvan on his lip-sync downfall and Grammy comeback: ‘The truth will set you free’ | Pop and rock

This may not be the best way to start an interview, but I have to ask: Great, are you the one reading your audiobook? Please make sure you are not just a pretty face hired to face it?

Fabrice Maxime Sylvain Morvin considers my question, then laughs. I’m teasing: It’s definitely Morvan narrating “You Know It’s True: The True Story of Milli Vanilli.” But since his book recording was nominated for Best Vocal Recording and Storytelling at the 2026 Grammy Awards — and Milli Vanilli are the only two winners to have the Grammy Award (awarded in 1990 for Best New Artist) revoked due to revelations that the duo did not sing on their recordings — I need confirmation.

“It’s all me,” Morvan says with a smile. “I co-wrote the book with Los Angeles Tribune journalist Parisa Rose, and all the while I was as honest as possible.”

Truth and lies emerge in Morvan’s memoir: As half of Milli Vanilli, he enjoyed pop stardom while living a lie, before being attacked by those demanding the truth. Almost everyone over the age of 45 probably has some memories of Milli Vanilli, who were very popular between October 1988 and November 1990: with three US number one hits, and more than 37 million singles and albums sold in 1989 alone, they are placed alongside Michael Jackson, George Michael and Madonna as the most popular pop artists.

If 1989 was Milli Vanilli’s miracle year, 1990 proved to be a terrible year: after their producer/Svengali Frank Farian admitted they were “non-singing performers”. The duo was “canceled” on today’s terms — the Grammys were cancelled, their recording contract was stripped, and they were subjected to intense media and public scorn. Class action lawsuits were filed under US fraud protection laws, while TV comedians mocked attractive performers.

“It was a terrible experience,” says Morvan, a 59-year-old, speaking from his home in Amsterdam. “People hated us. And when we had our press conference [in November 1990] After Frank told the world our secret, it was like we were met by a swarm of media.

Footage of the press conference makes for uncomfortable viewing: a crowd of mostly white journalists shouting questions and accusations at the duo, treating them like criminals. Morvan remained largely silent during questioning, appearing to be in shock. His Miele partner, Rob Pilatus, tries to defend his position, saying: “We were poor, living in the projects – we had You Ever lived in the projects?

No mercy was shown, and Pilatus and Morvan were left to suffer from obscene slings and arrows. Pilatus never recovered and died of an overdose, aged 33, in 1998, his post-stardom life marked by addiction and a brief stint in prison. His death might have signaled the end of one of pop’s most famous stories, but instead, in recent years, there has been a reconsideration of Milli Vanilli: both the rousing European recordings, and the duo’s high-energy performances (“We choreographed the whole thing, and we danced until our shoes were full of blood”), says Morvan. Along with this new appreciation, many have asked the question: Did two young black artists, who were mercilessly exploited by white executives, deserve such public humiliation?

The reconsideration begins with director Luke Korem’s excellent 2023 feature documentary Milli Vanilli (currently streaming on iPlayer), followed by the 2023 German biopic Girl You Know It’s True (streaming on Prime), a far more engaging effort than recent treatments of the hagiography of Bob Dylan and Bruce Springsteen. The interest generated by these films encouraged Morvan to write his take on the story.

“I did my best for the book, because the truth will set you free,” says Morvan, who was born in France and is fluent in English after spending years in Los Angeles. “People get sick of stress, of holding things inside – I know that from experience. My partner Tessa said to me: ‘You have to tell the whole truth’, but I was holding back because I didn’t want to throw Rob under the bus.

“But, at the same time, I had to free myself and tell my story. It’s a combination of things – a dream and a nightmare. I’ve experienced both. And since Rob’s no longer here, I wondered how I could get in touch with him and thought I’d write him a letter. And so the book begins.”

Morvan’s book describes his upbringing in a dysfunctional Parisian family, then follows his teenage move to Munich (seeking work as a dancer and choreographer), where he met Pilatus. Their athletic beauty helped the duo find work dancing for German pop singers and hosting club nights. They decided to form a band and were introduced by a local musician to Varian, the Frankfurt-based music industry wizard responsible for Boney M, among others. Farian had already recorded “Girl You Know It’s True” with the singers, but his problem was that they weren’t remotely photogenic. When confronted by Morvan and Pilatus, Varian offered a contract.

Morvan’s German was weak, so he could not read the contract. But Pilatus, born to a German mother and an American soldier father (and initially raised in an orphanage), insisted on signing it. Morvan says he and Pilatus thought they would sing on their recordings. Varian, who died in 2024, denied this, saying he only hired them as actors. With the signing of the Faust Contract, the duo set out on the path to fame, if not fortune.

“I never received a dime from those millions of records, CDs and tapes that Milli Vanilli sold,” Morvan says. “Today our broadcast numbers are huge, but the contract guarantees that we will not get anything.”

Farian used similar tactics with Boney M: Bobby Farrell, the quartet’s leader, was a dancer who never sang on recordings of the show. By 1988, with Boney M’s European chart success long over, Farian was desperate to unleash Milli Vanilli: Girl You Know It’s True which initially broke out in Germany, before reaching the top three in the UK and US.

Clive Davis, then the most powerful record executive in the United States, signed Milli Vanilli to his Arista label, and the duo’s videos were soon in high rotation on MTV. As Varian worked overtime, Milli Vanilli scored hit after hit. Morvan and Pilatus jumped from poverty to penthouse: in Munich they stole food from shops; In Beverly Hills they drove Ferraris. After Pilatus had a crack at cocaine, he declared himself in a Time magazine interview the new Elvis Presley, and more talented than Paul McCartney.

However, rumors have circulated suggesting that the duo were not the ones singing the songs – partly due to the fact that they both speak heavily accented English. At a 1989 concert in Bristol, Connecticut, broadcast live on MTV, the audio tape of Girl You Know It’s True began to skip, and Morvan and Pilatus were forced to flee the stage. Then, in early 1990, they won a Grammy Award.

“The thing is, we never wanted to win it,” Morvan says. “Because the Grammy criteria is that you have to sing on record. And we didn’t sing on record. We went to the show and we were taken to what are called ‘camera seats’. I knew we might win and my heart started racing, and then, when they called our name, something exploded in the pit of my stomach.”

The end was near when the puppets turned on the puppeteer, demanding more money and insisting on singing on their second album. When Varian refused to settle, the duo threatened to work with a new producer. “But Frank was always two steps ahead of us,” Morvan says.

Varian immediately held the infamous press conference and revealed everything. “Hoax,” screamed a headline in the Los Angeles Times. Radio stations removed Milli Vanilli’s songs, MTV dropped her videos, and Arista deleted her album. “Lies take the elevator while the truth takes the stairs,” Morvan says. “I knew that at some point the truth would catch us.”

The duo went on to release the album Rob & Fab in 1992 on a small record label. Here, they shared vocals while Morvan co-wrote most of the songs, but the audience was unwilling to forgive them and the album sold poorly. Pilatus fell deeper into addiction, while Morvan focused on a solo career as a singer-songwriter, paying the bills by teaching French on the side. The duo reunited with Varian in 1998 in an attempt to help the struggling Pilatus, but he died before anything could develop. “I think he died of a broken heart,” Morvan says. “He was abandoned as a child and now feels abandoned as an adult.”

Morvan moved to Europe 16 years ago, met Tessa, a Dutch woman who had no idea about his past, and started a family. Today, in addition to releasing his own music, he now owns the rights to the Milli Vanilli name: “For a long time I wasn’t allowed to use it. Now I play concerts for thousands of people with a band and sing, without backing tapes.” Morvan wants his book to serve as a warning of how cruel the music industry can be.

“In French we say”With temps [with time]. People now realize how we rose so high and then fell so low. He shakes his head as he remembers, then smiles and says: “I’m a lucky guy – I love my partner and my four children and I love what I do. I’m not bitter. I feel lucky.”

If Morvan wins again at a Grammy this week, it will signal one of pop music’s most notable revivals. If he does not, he has already achieved a greater victory, the puppet who has become his man.