Backstreet Boys - I Want It That Way -fuentez -... Apr 2026

“I Want It That Way” endures because it resists closure. It is a song about wanting without specifying what—a perfect metaphor for desire itself. And in that endless ambiguity, there is room for a forgotten session player named Fuentez, a misprinted CD, and a million teenage fans who didn’t need logic. They just needed to believe.

Martin’s reply, legend has it, was a shrug: “It doesn’t matter. It feels right.”

But its true power emerged later: in memes. The “I Want It That Way” lyric mishearing (“I want it that way / I want it that gay”) became a running joke. The song’s use in Brooklyn Nine-Nine (Captain Holt’s “Oh my god, I’ve been saying it wrong for years!”) introduced it to Gen Z. And in 2023, a slowed-down reverbed version went viral on TikTok as the “sad realization” sound. If Carlos Fuentez (or whoever) existed, he never saw a royalty statement. Max Martin’s production team was famously insular; session musicians were paid flat fees and rarely credited. But the persistent rumor of Fuentez’s guitar part has taken on a life of its own.

A more romantic theory: “Fuentez” was a pseudonym for , the co-writer of “Quit Playing Games (With My Heart).” Crichlow is of Trinidadian descent—not Spanish—so unlikely. Or perhaps “Fuentez” refers to Martin Fuentes , a sound engineer at Cheiron who allegedly added the reverse reverb on the final chorus. Backstreet Boys - I want it that way -Fuentez -...

Twenty-seven years later, “I Want It That Way” has been streamed over 1.5 billion times, named Billboard’s #10 greatest boy band song of all time, and inspired countless parodies, memes, and wedding first dances. But beneath its glossy, radio-friendly surface lies a tangled story of creative conflict, accidental genius, and a ghost credit that fan forums still argue about: the mysterious “Fuentez.” To understand the song, you must understand the factory that built it: Cheiron Studios in Stockholm, Sweden. In the late ‘90s, producer Max Martin and his team—Denniz Pop (RIP), Kristian Lundin, Andreas Carlsson, and Rami Yacoub—were refining a formula that would dominate pop for two decades. Their method: write 50 choruses, keep the catchiest one, and prioritize melodic “hooks” over lyrical coherence.

But the demo was slower, sadder, more R&B. Backstreet’s label, Jive Records, wanted a lead single that could conquer Top 40 radio. Martin sped it up, added a synth arpeggio, and layered the vocals until the melancholy was buried under euphoria. Here’s where the name “Fuentez” enters the story—though no official credit exists.

Brian Littrell once joked in a 2014 interview: “To this day, I don’t know what ‘I want it that way’ means. But when 50,000 people sing it back to you, it means everything.” Director Wayne Isham’s music video—airport security corridor, white suits, choreographed anguish—cemented the song’s legacy. The image of Nick Carter leaning against a baggage carousel, mouthing “You are my fire,” became a generation’s shorthand for longing. “I Want It That Way” endures because it resists closure

As Brian Littrell hits that final, suspended note— “I never wanna hear you say…” —the crowd finishes: “That you want it that way.”

The song peaked at #6 on the Hot 100 (blocked by Ricky Martin’s “Livin’ la Vida Loca” and TLC’s “No Scrubs”), but internationally it went #1 in over 25 countries. In the UK, it sold 1.5 million copies and won the 1999 Brit Award for Best International Single.

In early 1999, before the final version was recorded, a session guitarist named (according to uncorroborated forum posts from ATRL and UKMix) was brought in to play the song’s clean electric guitar arpeggios. His contribution, some claim, was the “spark” that turned the demo into a hit—adding a Latin-tinged warmth to the sterile Swedish production. They just needed to believe

Whether fact or fiction, the Fuentez myth serves a larger truth: “I Want It That Way” was not the work of a single genius but a collision of talents—Swedish precision, American soul, and one anonymous guitarist whose three minutes of work helped define a decade. In 2024, the Backstreet Boys performed the song on their DNA World Tour. Nick Carter, now 44, introduced it: “This song has no real meaning. That’s why it means everything.” The crowd roared.

The truth, likely, is that “Fuentez” is a ghost—a fan myth born from a misprinted liner note in a Philippine bootleg CD (1999’s Backstreet’s Back Asia Tour Edition listed “Guitars: C. Fuentez”). No major archive confirms it. But the mystery persists because the song itself thrives on ambiguity. Let’s examine the most confusing couplet in pop history: “You are my fire / The one desire / Believe when I say / I want it that way.” If you are my fire and my desire, why would I want it that way —the “way” presumably being apart? The second verse doubles down: “Ain’t nothing but a heartache / Ain’t nothing but a mistake.” Wait—so “that way” means heartache and mistake? Then why the soaring, romantic melody?

“I Want It That Way” began as a ballad. Martin and Carlsson had a chord progression and a title: “I Want It That Way.” Carlsson later admitted the phrase was deliberately ambiguous—a breakup song where the narrator insists on emotional distance, or a love song about accepting a partner’s flaws? Both readings work. Neither is fully satisfying. That’s the point.

In 2017, a Reddit user claiming to be Fuentez’s nephew posted: “My uncle Carlos played the arpeggios. He said Max Martin made him redo it 40 times until it ‘felt like a heartbeat.’ They paid him $800 and a pizza.” The post was deleted, but screenshots remain.

Others insist “Fuentez” is a misspelling of , a Swedish session musician who worked on Millennium ’s “Don’t Want You Back.” But BMI and ASCAP databases show no “Fuentez” attached to “I Want It That Way.”