Free Every Little Step: My Story by Bobby Brown, Nick Chiles Page A

out on the Don’t Be Cruel tour, I was the tour manager. Between 1988 and 1992, Bobby Brown was arguably the biggest artist on the planet minus Michael Jackson. It was amazing to watch. It was also hard to comprehend because I was seeing it and living it at the same time. Everywhere he went, he was a one-man PR firm, a one-man show. People of all nationalities around the world knew who Bobby was. It was truly an exceptional thing.
    When we went to Japan, there was an enormous audience of Japanese people who didn’t speak a word of English, but they all were reciting every word to “My Prerogative” and “Don’t Be Cruel” and “Every Little Step.” When we were down in Columbus, Georgia, they had this lewd-act law on the books, saying you couldn’t gyrate on the stage. So being the bad boy that Bobby Brown is at the time, he’s going to do what he wants to do. So he went out on the stage and did what he does best. He got arrested. They took him to a holding cell and locked him up. But as he was leaving—and I will never forget this—the sheriff and the officers who had locked him up bring this kid down to the jail cell. When Bobby walked out they wanted him to take pictures with the kid. That’s when I knew this stuff ain’t fair—I mean, you’re going to lock this guy up for doing something, but then you want to do a photo op with him? Of course Bobby graciously obliged.
    As tour manager my responsibilities were everything from advancing the next city, advancing the next show, to making sure folks got paid and doing all the administrative and logistical things pertaining to Bobby’s moving around. It was exciting; it was challenging. I’ve always embraced the art of being behind the scenes and structuring and development.
    Overnight Bobby Brown became a name. When you said “Bobby,” you meant Brown. Bobby was so hot that a promoter in London wanted him so bad that he flew him back to America on British Airways’ Concorde so that he could meet a show obligation. At the time the Concorde was the fastest passenger jet in the world. I’m from Roxbury, Massachusetts, and here I am flying on the Concorde. I have so many amazing stories, amazing memories.
    What made Bobby so successful was that New Edition was straitlaced: dress right, choreography, image, trim haircuts. Then this offspring of New Edition comes out with saggy baggy pants, the Gumby haircut, cussing, gyrating, doing all the things that don’t represent the New Edition brand. The young girls of America looked at that and said, Ooooh, he’s giving me this? I want more more more. Bobby Brown ignited the birth of the Ushers, the Chris Browns, the Trey Songz, the Ne-Yos.
    What I always used to love about Bobby was his work ethic. He was such a hard worker that it was clear why he was so good onstage. This is something people might not expect to hear because of his reputation. But you don’t get to be that good by accident, without putting some work in. I would tell him, “Robert”—I never call him Bobby—“you make it look so easy, make it look so unrehearsed.” That’s a true test of a star: if you can make stuff look so easy, like you don’t have to rehearse it.

CHAPTER 4
GROWING UP
    I met Malika Williams through her sister, Mona, who had been dating Ralph Tresvant. Mona and Malika were from Los Angeles; Ralph and I started hanging out with them during one of New Edition’s trips to the West Coast. Malika was a beautiful, sweet girl. I was seventeen and she was about the same age. She didn’t even have a driver’s license yet. As a matter of fact, neither did I.
    Speaking of driver’s licenses, it was an incident on the road that drew us closer. It was also the first of many unpleasant encounters I would have on the road with the police, encounters so frequent they sometimes feel like they comprise the CliffsNotes version of my entire life.
    We were staying at the Franklin Plaza Suites in Hollywood, the hotel New Edition always