JUSTIN Bieber fever has swept Britain this week with the release of the teenager’s latest film. His global success at only 16 is incredible but – as we reveal here – it was no accident
After a near-riot at a New Zealand airport, an overwhelmed New York shopping mall and girls trampled before a concert in Sydney it should be no surprise that thousands of screaming fans camped out in London this week before the European premiere of Justin Bieber’s 3-D movie Never Say Never.
He’s only 16 but the small-town Canadian teenager, who is in this country to promote the film, has conquered pop culture, from the music charts to a bestselling book, TV and film, and is dominating the internet – which has dealt with more than one billion requests for information on him. True “Beliebers”, as his fans have become known, swoon over his adorable fresh-faced innocence, honeyed voice and mop of chestnut hair.
Millions of parents, weary of buying their offspring a plethora of magazines, action figures, fragrances and anything else connected to the Bieber phenomenon, may roll their eyes in bewilderment at the schoolboy who seems to have struck it rich virtually overnight, as if by luck.
Justin Bieber fever has swept Britain this week with the release of the teenager’s latest film.
At first glance it appears that his success rested on a few home-made videos of him singing posted on the internet being spotted before he was taken on by pop icon Usher, who promoted and packaged him. A typical example of the triumph of marketing over musical talent, in other words. Only it’s not true.
“Justin Bieber is one of the hardest working stars – of any age – in music today,” says Los Angeles record producer John Harris. “His success is the result of years of dedication, unquestioned talent and plain old hard work. He’s been lucky but he’s earned his success.”
Jon Chu, who directed Bieber’s new movie which opens here this weekend, agrees: “His story is a fairytale but it didn’t just happen overnight. He worked his butt off.”
Bieber’s manager Scooter Braun says: “He’s gone from 12-year-old in a small town to world-class entertainer.”
Rejected by most record companies four years ago Bieber approached pop icons for help. “He had the talent,” says Usher. “I thought, ‘Man, I’d love to be a part of shaping what he is to become.’”
And that’s when the hard work began. Bieber played every small venue across America to build an audience: water parks, shopping malls, street fairs, theme parks. No venue was too humiliating.
“He must have visited every radio station in the country to play a set,” says Braun. Bieber played to bored shoppers, passing tourists, anyone who would listen. And his fan base grew. When his debut CD emerged in November 2009 it was an instant hit spawning singles One Time, One Less Lonely Girl, Favourite Girl and Love Me.
Yet such success was alien to the boy from a broken home and impoverished childhood. His mother, petite blue-eyed brunette Pattie Mallette, who left home at 15, admits: “I was messed up on drugs and alcohol. At 17 I went to hospital for trying to commit suicide.”
She turned her life around only to become pregnant at 19 with Justin out of wedlock by martial arts fighter Jeremy Bieber, then 20. “They split up when I was a baby,” says Bieber, who remains close to his father.
Raised by his mum in council housing in Stratford, Ontario, he recalls: “That place was really dirty. There were mice in the house. I didn’t have a real bed. I slept on a blue pullout couch in my room. We didn’t have anything in the fridge, ever, except maybe lunch meat for school and macaroni and cheese.”
Mallette worked numerous odd jobs to make ends meet but after work friends came round and played instruments, exposing Bieber to music. At four he demonstrated an impressive sense of rhythm, tapping out beats on a kitchen chair, soon graduating to a drum kit. By 10 he had also mastered the guitar, piano and trumpet.
At 12 he started busking on street corners and at 13 earned $3,000 performing outside a local theatre. That year his proud mum posted online videos of him singing for relatives to view, little expecting that they would spark a global phenomenon.
“It wasn’t something that my mum forced, it just kind of happened organically,”
he says. “I was never that kid who wanted to be famous. I just sang for fun.
“To be honest I never really wanted to be a singer. It kind of just happened, basically by fluke. I put those videos on YouTube for friends and family and it got a lot of views. Because of that I got a lot of managers trying to contact me.”
Among them was Scooter Braun, who invited Bieber to Atlanta in 2007 in the hope of securing a recording deal. They spent six months posting new videos and building an online fan base that became a tidal wave that is still growing. “I ended up meeting Usher and he helped me basically to get signed to a record label,” Bieber explains.
LA Reid, head of Bieber’s record label Island Def Jam, says of the fans: “Justin sold them a dream and they are buying it hook, line and sinker. The girls just love him. They think he’s their boyfriend, that there’s a shot for them.”
Worth an estimated £60million already Bieber cannot touch his fortune until he turns 18, though a bank card allows him to survive day-to-day, buying meals, flights to Los Angeles or renting a Ferrari. “I don’t love money,” he says, “because once you start loving money you’ve got a big house and nice car and just an empty heart.”
Such views are coloured by his religious beliefs, which have also caused waves. In a recent interview he made plain his opposition to abortion and sex before marriage. This has much to do with his mother’s infl uence. She became an evangelical Christian after conquering her drug addiction. “I feel I’ve an obligation to plant little seeds with my fans. I’m not going to tell them ‘you need Jesus’ but I will say at the end of my show, ‘God loves you’.”
In some ways he is a typical teenager: he is a video-game addict, plays music at deafening volume and sports braces across his teeth. But unlike most teens he drives a Range Rover, has a tour bus with two flat-screen TVs and swings a £100,000 crucifix of black diamonds from his neck.
His girlfriend is teen Disney TV star Selena Gomez and when in Los Angeles he stays at movie star Will Smith’s home.
He is also still developing physically.
Bieber’s voice belatedly started changing during his US tour last year and he no longer hits the high notes fans expect.
“He’s got a nice tone to his voice now, a good texture but it doesn’t sound like what his fans think he sounds like,” admits his vocal coach Jan Smith. Bieber, 17 next month, is also painfully aware that pop history is littered with forgotten teen idols and his movie even features a brief cameo by Miley Cyrus, now 18 and struggling to maintain her grasp on fame.
Miley presents a cautionary tale for Bieber: a Disney princess packaged and promoted with her hit TV series Hannah Montana. Only two years ago she was starring in her own blockbuster 3-D concert movie but for the past year Disney has been searching for replacements after Miley obliterated her squeaky-clean image with a move-in boyfriend, five tattoos and stories of drug-taking.
Bieber immerses himself in yet more hard work to avoid that fate. He wants to star in a remake of Oliver Twist, is working on fourth album Believe and has numerous TV acting roles lined up.
Yet he knows that his future rests not just in his talent but also in the fickle favour of his fans. “My fans are powerful,” he says.