‘Don’t cross the Milli Vanilli line,’ reads the advice for using ChatGPT when writing texts. The pop duo Milli Vanilli’s name became proverbial. Fab(rice) Morvan, one of the protagonists of the 1990s musical drama says in retrospect: ‘Lies shoot up in a lift. The truth takes the stairs, but eventually gets to the top as well.’

The appearance of the documentary Milli Vanilli and the subsequent film Girl You Know It’s True (on various streaming services) brings to mind one of the most remarkable episodes in pop music history. Fab Morvan and Rob Pilatus, as the successful duo Milli Vanilli, received a Grammy Award for their debut album in February 1990. The very same year, they had to hand back the prestigious music award because they had not sung their vocals themselves. They were booed by press and public alike, their disappointed fans received compensation.
Morvan and Pilatus reacted totally differently to this public exposure. Rob Pilatus, raised by German foster parents and bullied by peers for his skin colour, was blinded by the unexpected success. When the attention and fame disappeared just as suddenly, it was as if the ground under his existence had been swept away.
A few years later, the Paris-born Morvan ran into his old friend in Los Angeles, he recounts in a poignant section of the documentary: ‘Rob had become a shadow of who he was. He was staying with other addicts in a dilapidated slum dwelling.’ After several half-hearted attempts at rehab, Pilate died in Munich in 1998. His body was found by Ingrid Segieth, girlfriend and assistant to top German producer Frank Farian (who affectionately called her Milli). Segieth’s testimony in the documentary comes across as rather disingenuous, with fake tears as a diving low point.

The two young singers, rappers and breakdancers initially regarded Frank Farian as a deity. When they were invited to his studio, they feasted their eyes on the gold records that adorned his office walls. That Farian owed his fame to the group Boney M. should have been a warning. That group consisted of three lip syncing singers and the spastically moving dancer Bobby Farrell. The voices you hear on songs like ‘Rasputin’, ‘Rivers of Babylon’ and ‘Ma Baker’ were mostly Farian’s own. When friend Ingrid came up with two attractive, well-dressed boys who swished their long hair around them like strings of beads, he saw opportunities again. Farian handed them 20,000 DM in cash and, after a celebratory glass of champagne, offered Morvan and Pilate a contract, which they signed in a flush of excitement.

However, Farian found their vocals unconvincing and their French and German accents too emphatic. In the deepest secrecy, he put together a team that played, sang and provided rap lyrics to the song ‘Girl You Know It’s True’ at night: soul vocalists Charles Shaw, John Davis, Brad Howell and singing background sisters Jody and and Linda Rocco. They too had to sign a contract after receiving an advance: ‘Don’t tell anyone you collaborated on this song.’

No one, not even Frank Farian, expected the song to top the charts across Europe. From then on, there was no turning back. New songs were written in a hurry and the team put together a complete album in the same way. That too yielded big hits like: ‘Baby, Don’t Forget My Number’ and ‘Blame It On The Rain’. Fab and Rob appeared on the TV-screens on a daily basis. They were featured weekly in the music magazines and their image dominated the walls of many girls’ bedrooms. Worldwide, they sold 30 million singles and seven million albums.
Managers and record companies treated their secret act amazingly recklessly, especially after the first doubts were voiced aloud: ‘How can two guys who have such a poor command of the English language sing so flawlessly?’ an MTV producer wondered in 1989. During a performance in Bristol, Connecticut, the technology failed and the same vocal line was played over and over again. Such incidents did not stop record company Arista from submitting Milli Vanilli as a candidate for a Grammy nomination, the most important music award.

The duo was not only nominated, but actually named ‘Best New Artist’ on 21 February 1990. The boys were lucky that, exceptionally, they did not have to sing live that night. With a Grammy in their pocket, the two tried to put pressure on Frank Farian: ‘If we don’t get to sing ourselves on our next album, we’ll announce your cheating.’ However, the naive duo had reckoned beyond the calculating mind of the experienced music boss. Farian ruthlessly slaughtered his prize geese: ‘They didn’t sing a note themselves!’ The US record company also pulled its hands off Morvan and Pilate and pretended their album had never existed. The two thought that by organising a press conference they could remedy the worst of the damage, but were met with an unsubtle tantrum avalanche.

How is Fab Morvan doing thirty-five years later? How does he look back on this adventure that ran out-of-control? He is willing to talk about it, but would rather share the lessons life has taught him.
Are you happy with the documentary and the film?
Almost everyone involved gets to speak in the documentary. As a viewer, this gives you a good idea of what happened. The film is partly fiction. For me, it was difficult and confronting to watch it.
Is the story of Milli Vanilli typical of how the music industry works?
I think it’s even worse today than it was then. After us, you got a whole range of popular boy- and girlbands that had sprung directly from the brains of record executives. The music industry looks for suitable faces to perform pre-cooked music. Everything is about packaging. Uninhibited boys and girls are still exploited as much as we were. And with today’s recording techniques, it is hardly possible to verify what is real and what is not.
How do you explain the furious reactions after your ‘coming out’? In those days, everyone lip synced on television. Besides, there were many more artists who didn’t sing or play their songs themselves on their albums.
We had had three number one hits in America. Our sales figures were dwarfing those of the competition. Moreover, we were an easy target: no one protected us. Everyone pulled their hands off us.
Frank Farian, who came up with the concept of Milli Vanilli, died a year and a half ago. How do you view him with the knowledge of today?
Farian was born into a poor German family during the war. His love of soul, blues and rock & roll offered him a way out of difficult circumstances. When he performed, he was often laughed at as a German. So he came up with the idea of writing and singing songs, but having them lip synced by black artists. He considered his success a victory over his origins. The fact that he had no regard for the suffering of the many people he played to his tune is the downside of his talent.
You are remarkably mild about him.
I have learnt that anger is a bad motivator that often comes back to you like a boomerang. I decided to get out of the downward spiral of fury. First I forgave myself, then I was able to do the same to others.
Who or what inspires you to look so positively at yourself and others?
In the Netherlands, I met Tessa van der Steen. Together we now have four children. Tessa is a health coach. She often practices her therapies on me, with good results. Thanks to her I feel much better. I pray, I meditate and I respect my fellow man. I experience a power in my life that others sometimes refer to as God.

What is it like for you to sing your own songs now?
I finally get to show that I can do it. Frank Farian, partly out of self-interest, gave me permission to perform them live. With my band I’ve just returned from Miami, soon we’ll be playing in Brazil, in Canada and a few times in the Netherlands.
You also make visual art. When did that start?
As a child, drawing came easier to me than talking. To get the misery of Milli Vanilli off my chest, drawing worked therapeutically for me. In the beginning I still felt the need to go out, but knew I could relapse into bad behaviour. So I preferred to stay at home to draw. That’s how I came to terms with myself in the long run.

Morvan shows me one of his diaries. Between the written texts, he drew his fantasy worlds.
I am using this diary to write my memoirs. Soon I hope to present my book. Shall I reveal the title?
I’d love to.
‘You know it’s true’.
Milli Vanilli, documentary, Luke Korem (director), MTV Entertainment Studios, 2023
Girl You Know It’s True, feature film, Simon Verhoeven (director), Sentana Film / SevenPictures, 2024
fabmilly.com
youknowitstrue.com