JumpinJack AJ

When I first started reading this, I was like "why is he laying it all out like this in an interview?" Then I realized it was taken from his book. I have mixed feelings about it. I liked reading about Hip-Hop back then and the Fugees climb to the top. He satisfies the curiosity of what was going as they fell apart; though there's so much not answered. I imagine that it was therapeutic to get it all out. At the same time, my main concern is how writing that for everyone to see might impact his marriage. It looks like his bond with his wife is so strong that the truly got through the mess. At the same time, doesn't Lauryn have a say about the business you are putting out there? Writing this isn't helping the fact that forgiveness and healing is needed in the Fugees. And I wouldn't say he doesn't want people to judge him. He mostly puts the blame on himself. This makes me wonder what the Fugees reunion was like around 2005.

Wyclef Jean: I loved Lauryn Hill and my wife Fugees fans want to blame my affair with Lauryn Hill for destroying the band and harming her career. It isn't true Excerpted from "Purpose: An Immigrant's Story" I feel like an old man every time I tell a young gun what the music business was like in my day, when my group’s biggest record came out. I’m not even talking about how it was back in the days of Grandmaster Flash or even Public Enemy and A Tribe Called Quest. I’m talking about my day, which was only fifteen years ago — but that’s how much the world of music has changed. That’s a blink of an eye in the history of the business, but back then the things considered impossible today were still possible. Back then, in the nineties, a record could come out and sell 15 million copies if it struck a chord with the world at the time. Back then, radio could still make a somebody out of a nobody, and you couldn’t get recorded music for free unless you taped it live off the radio. People would line up to buy an artist’s new CD the day it came out, because to hear it, you had to own a piece of plastic with that song recorded on it. A record that talked about what was going on at the time was something that everyone had to have back then because it was more than a record: it was a moment. Dr. Dre’s “The Chronic” was one of those records. Biggie Smalls’s “Ready to Die” was one of those records. Tupac’s “Me Against the World” was one of those records. Jay-Z’s “Reasonable Doubt” was one of those records. And the Fugees’ “The Score” was one of those records. Everybody who loves hip-hop has a memory from the summer of ’96 involving one of the singles off “The Score.” Don’t even try to tell me y’all don’t. And unlike a lot of those other records, songs like “Ready or Not,” and “Killing Me Softly,” crossed over to pop fans, too. Our second album was one of those records responsible for bringing hip-hop into the mainstream, and making it the driving force in music for the second half of the nineties into today. In 1996, there was so much great music out that for us to sell 15 million records worldwide really meant something. Hip-hop and R&B were at their best that year: Biggie and Tupac had just released their masterpieces, Jay-Z was heating up, TLC was at the top of the charts with “CrazySexyCool,” and Wu-Tang had us all in check. D’Angelo’s “Brown Sugar” was out, and Michael and Janet Jackson had just dropped “Scream.” We had to have skills to take those charts by storm the way we did. The Fugees were raw talent and passion, and it shone through. The musicality was there because we had lived side by side with each other since we started rehearsing in front of that mirror back in Jersey so many years before. There was love in that music, too, the love between Lauryn and me. We had become a real couple, even though I was with someone else at the time. It didn’t matter; she and I had our own musical and romantic language, and you can hear that in the music we made together. That’s why it touched people; that’s why it’s so real. You can hear the tension in the music, all of that impossible love. It was like we knew it wasn’t going to work from the start, but we couldn’t shy away. It’s not that it was wrong; it’s just that it was too good to be true. The way we related we couldn’t sustain because it was this whirlwind of creativity, this success, this performance. It was a fantasy that we engaged in because it was almost as if the music and the group and what we were doing drew us in. It was like all of that depended on this love we shared. But it wasn’t real-life love. And we found that out—boy, did we. “The Score” is raw storytelling: it’s a candid picture of who we were and the times we were living in. We didn’t make it in a slick upscale studio; we made it in a basement in the ’hood in New Jersey. Our recordings were pure — no tricks in sight — and it connected with music fans around the world. We had built our fan base one country and one city at a time, so when we came at everyone with “The Score,” they were ready. I remember after we did the remix for “Nappy Heads” with Salaam Remi, we went out on the road to Germany to do a gig with Das EFX. It was weird. They were some big hip-hop group in a very traditional style, and we were opening up doing our thing, with all our instruments and all that. We were always about having a band and a DJ because we were so much more than just rappers: we were a group. The live instrumentation sparked our performance, because we were musicians in every way. Our drummer at the time was a cool cat named Johnny Wise, who is known for how well he plays break beats. That was his main thing; overall his drum skills were pretty unique and not exactly technically perfect. But that was all good to me, because having a nontraditional drummer was important to me. It didn’t matter if he couldn’t play rock or jazz as well as what he did with us: the point was, no one played the breaks in our songs better. When Johnny got on the set and started laying it out, L, Pras, and I lit up and we did our thing. I had to feel that shuffle beat he laid down, because I was the Cab Calloway of the Fugees, leading everyone, showing them which way we were going to move. Those German shows were unusual because no one was expecting us. We’d smash them usually, but there was one night that we were in some area overrun by skinheads. I don’t know who booked a hip-hop group in that bar, but we walked in and the word “nigger” was spray painted real big on the wall. That was an interesting welcome. Honestly, I had no idea why or how that **** got there. Coming from the States, it made no sense to me. I didn’t think racism like that existed outside of the United States, because why would it? Racism here, and that word specifically, is a product of slavery and American history. What did Germans know about “nigger”? But ****, there it was, on that wall for all to see, in the depths of this country. We were far from home but that same hate was all around us. We opened up and the show went alright, and then these German hip-hop groups played, who were dope and cool, but nothing could really offset that racism vibe that we felt the minute we walked in and saw that word on the wall. So it was a weird night. I didn’t feel like I was in danger, but I didn’t feel welcome or comfortable either, and there were all these German groups performing music that was invented by black people from the Bronx and the Caribbean. Still, I’ve got to hand it to those German rappers. I remember thinking how no one at home was going to believe me when I told them that I saw German hip-hop acts who knew what they were doing. I could hardly believe it myself. Our European travels took us to France, Iceland, England — just about every festival going on at the time — and that is how we built our name from the ground up. The funny thing was that when we landed back in New York with Das EFX, who we’d been supporting, all of us heard our song on the radio in the car on the ride home. “Yo, yo, this is the Fugees with ‘Nappy Heads,’ on Hot 97, where hip-hop lives!” We had been opening up for these guys and there was our song coming out of the radio. Apparently it had become one of the most played tracks in the few weeks we were gone and nobody had told us. Our stock had gone up from being in tenth place, playing support slots on European tours, to being the headliner right there in our hometown. That summer we played Jones Beach and I was about ready to lose my mind. It felt like we’d spent years rehearsing for that very moment, and this was something I couldn’t deny. No one could take that moment from us, standing there on that stage with the ocean behind us, playing our hearts out to a hometown crowd. All that rejection, all of that choreography learned in front of that mirror, all of it to go from a room in Germany with racist remarks on the wall to a sold-out crowd at Jones Beach. The minute I opened my mouth and sang, “Mona Lisa …” the entire audience sang the rest with me. They knew every single word. Our success didn’t come overnight, but when it came, it came faster than the blink of an eye and it was overwhelming, like the top of a roller coaster. The whole time, Lauryn and I were falling into a daring kind of love, while I was already in love with my future wife, Claudinette, across town. I need to rewind the tape a bit to explain all this. I met Claudinette when I was about nineteen, and she is a few years older than me. She was fly, she was established, she was modeling in New York, and just so she wouldn’t pass me by, I tricked her and lied about my age. I said I was twenty-two or something, so she’d go out with me. Her family is very religious and traditional, so I brought her to my dad’s church and courted her the proper way and we started dating. This was about the time when I started rehearsing with the Fugees and moved into the Booga and started spending time with Lauryn. I spent all my time with either one or the other of them, you know what I mean? Lauryn and I were pursuing a dream together, and that goal, as well as our mutual love of music, was the language that brought us together. And there was an attraction there; I’m not going to lie and act as if it was just because we spent time together that we ended up together. Lauryn’s beautiful, and because of her looks and her talent and everything we shared with each other — from songs to books to lyrics — love was bound to grow. I was with both of these incredible women at the same time, which isn’t something to be proud of but it was definitely unavoidable. I couldn’t say no to either of them. I mean it when I say I loved them both, because I did. I knew this situation couldn’t last, but I didn’t care; I was going to try to work it for as long as I could. And I think most men in my position would have done the same. I now know it ended up causing more trouble than anything — for all of us — but at the time that was the last thing on my mind. By that time Lauryn was driving and she had a Jeep, and after we worked in the studio creating, we’d take her Jeep up to Eagle Rock Mountain, which is a state park that borders Montclair and West Orange and has a view of Manhattan in certain parts. It was like Lover’s Lane where I grew up: you’d drive up there and make out and look at the stars. If you had a Jeep you could take it off the beaten path and feel like you were in nature, so we’d do that, just look at the stars and talk about our hopes and dreams. It was romantic, but my main attraction to Lauryn wasn’t just her beauty: it was her mind. Her age and what was in her head did not match up, and that’s what people always said about me. I’ve always been called an old soul, because the way I think and talk about life is the way an eighty-year-old who has seen everything would. Lauryn is like that, too, so we connected in every way all those nights under the stars. It was inevitable that we’d fall in love. Claudinette to me was like Wonder Woman: she was modeling and making money and I didn’t have a penny. When I lied to her and told her I was nineteen, she didn’t believe me. Not for a second. She knew I was a kid but she didn’t care. She was smart and going to school and I had barely graduated high school. And she believed in me; that made me feel like a million bucks. Actually I used to borrow money from her to go to the clubs because she wanted me to hear what was going on so that I could be better at what I wanted to do. She was mature and supportive — beautiful, driven, and independent. She came from a good family and she loved me as much as I loved her. She fell in love with the real me: the comedian, the character, the silly, witty kid. Before I moved into the Booga full-time, when I was still trying to live in my dad’s house, Claudinette’s family would take me in when my dad and I fought and he kicked me out. She’d hook me up with some blankets and I could sleep in their basement as many nights as I needed to. In return I got her hooked up in my dad’s church, where she began to sing and became an important member of the congregation. Our relationship was natural and it was comfortable. But on the other side of town, something else was going on. With Lauryn, just being in the studio so much together, working on our music as a team gave us an attraction toward each other. Being part of something bigger than you can do that, and sometimes there’s nothing more to the relationship. It’s like a romance on a film set that ends at the wrap party. But that wasn’t what we had. It was more than that. Spending all our time together brought us together. It started in the studio, working on those routines and our rhymes. I mean there was one time when I was around Lauryn twenty out of the twenty-four hours in a day. The thing I have to say about my wife, Claudinette, is that she supported all that hard work I was putting in. She trusted me and loved that I had a purpose, a goal, and a team to pursue that with. During that time, Lauryn and I ate, slept, woke up, ate, slept, and did music; that was our world. And when we began to tour together, every night was like a fairytale world and we were living in our dream. We’d each have our rooms but we’d always end up in the same one. It felt like that relationship was real, and it was. It was love; it was lust. It was more intense than some teenage romance, because we knew ourselves. It was the type of pure love that burns bright but burns out fast. Our friendship began as a mentorship where I taught her to rhyme and brought her into rap culture. And like I said, she ate it up. She was a natural. Pretty soon she was better than me at memorizing my own rap sheet. And her delivery wasn’t something I could teach. She became my muse; she became this creative chariot that pulled me along and inspired me to be the best artist I could be. We lusted for each other. We were making the best songs we ever had — lyrics flowing out of us — and our love was all tied up in the music. I was a big-brother figure to Lauryn until it turned romantic, and the soundtrack of our relationship is “The Score.” That album came out the way it did because of our passion. You take us both and intertwine us and put it on a piece of vinyl and that’s what you get. The emotion is real, and I believe that is what connected with so many people. We made fans out of people who had never listened to hip-hop. None of them knew what was going on behind the scenes, but they felt that passion in the music. The music came with a kiss. Our physical relationship was an important part of what inspired the music. I’m not saying that we couldn’t have made an album like “The Score” without being together physically, but I think the tension and passion and emotion that you hear in the singing was there because it’s the sound of people experiencing something. If someone is in love or sad or angry—just experiencing something intense—you hear it in the intonation of their voice. You can’t fake that. If you’re really feeling it, the vocals will sound different. Listen to Billie Holiday: even if you know nothing about her life, you can tell without a doubt that her blues are real. She is singing from a broken heart. Lauryn has that quality to her voice naturally. Think of a song like “Me and Mrs. Jones,” by Billy Paul. That track takes you there. Lauryn does the same thing, every time. Lauryn and I had a “True Romance” kind of thing: it was like we were two outlaws in love. There was a daring kind of vibe to our relationship and we always felt like it was us two against the world, each and every day. There was no going back and no surrender; we were going to defeat the odds against us. It was all tied up with the group, because at the time, she, Pras, and I lived every victory and every defeat as a unit. When people said we were whack and we needed to get back on the banana boat, it affected all of us. The three of us had made a pledge not to quit years before and we weren’t going anywhere. When the critics wrote that the girl should go solo, Lauryn’s reaction was that they could go to hell because Pras and I were her brothers. “I ain’t going nowhere,” she’d say. “We make it together or we don’t make it at all.” That kind of commitment breeds natural attraction, as does natural talent. The more Lauryn evolved as a musician, the more I fell for her. I loved her voice and always thought she was beautiful, but as she became a great rhymer and performer, I couldn’t help myself: I fell in love with her again for her skills. It felt like we shared a mind, because we’d have long conversations, all day every day, and we got to know each other deeply. Lauryn is very intelligent and she taught me a lot about things I wasn’t familiar with creatively. We were two artists speaking the same language, which is a romantic and intimate thing to share. I remember the day things changed, and it was my fault. I slipped up. We were talking about some music stuff and I couldn’t hold back any longer. “You know, you kinda attractive,” I said. “You know, you a pretty smart girl.” “Stop it, my brother,” she said. “Nah, nah, I’m serious. You a hottie.” That was the moment. It sparked a different tone in the way we spoke to each other. From there we started getting closer and flirting with each other for the first time. Little by little, that innocent flirtation became obvious attraction, and the little gestures between “brother” and “sister” became flirtation between lovers. It all changed step-by-step, the tension between us growing, until one day, it just happened. I’m the guilty party. I’m the one to blame. I definitely went for it first; I ain’t going to lie. Lauryn tried her best to keep me in that brother place. Maybe she’d thought about what would happen, too. I don’t know. All I know is that I was the one who made the move to the other mode. I knew it was wrong, too, because I was with Claudinette. And I loved Claudinette. There was just no way I could avoid falling in love with the little world of music that Lauryn and I shared. Physically falling for her was easy: she is beautiful, but there was a lot more to it. Artistically, Lauryn gave me soul music, which is where her true gift lies. She shared that knowledge with me: the Jackson 5 — the deepest part of Michael Jackson’s career — Marvin Gaye, the Delfonics, Barry White, all of the soul music I had missed growing up was our thing. That music was too explicit to be played in my father’s house, because it certainly wasn’t Christian. She opened my eyes — and that was some romantic **** to be bonding over. I remember telling her, “Every time I sing, I sound too world-music. Teach me how to sing your kind of stuff.” She’d give me lessons: R&B singing lessons from Lauryn Hill, imagine that; I don’t care who you are. She taught me circle runs, which is when a singer delivers a line in a melodic circle rather than a straight line. Instead of holding a note, you bend it, the way an R&B singer does. That’s how they get to the pain in their soul, and that’s what Lauryn taught me to do. We fell in love with each other’s minds, and it was a no-holds-barred conversation between us always. We were always together and we talked about everything. Pras still blames me for wrecking the group by getting into a relationship with Lauryn, but the truthmis if he had the option to, he would have done the same thing. Believe me, any man would. Our group chemistry was like this: Pras was the little brother, I was the big brother, and Lauryn was my girl. And it was all good — on the road at least. “The Score” is a tragic Shakespearean romance because it was destructive and all consuming at the same time. As it was coming to life, I decided to marry Claudinette. I loved her, I knew it was right, but the timing was a reaction. It was the effect of a cause that caused further effects. And further drama came with that, do you dig? It’s hard to explain, but I was in love with both of them. I was torn between the impossible love affair, the whirlwind artist romance, and the solid, good woman who demanded respect. The solid woman had her passion, too. So my life became crazy, because I was in the middle and each of them was passionate about me in different ways. One side was all bound up with music and discovery and my own self-expression.The other side was all about intellect and wisdom and helping me to mature. I did not know what to do; I just knew I had to do something. It was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever made in my life. It wasn’t clean and simple. It’s going to be easy for people to read this and say, “Why did he do that to Lauryn? How could he not go with her? He broke up the Fugees!” I wish it were that easy to explain away, but it’s not. Claudinette was with me when I had nothing, and she stood by me and helped me to be the man that I have become — the man I wouldn’t have been without her. That man is the one who created “The Score” and “The Carnival,” and I don’t think he would have been here if he had gone with Lauryn. We wouldn’t have been the same; we wouldn’t have evolved apart if we didn’t explode together. It’s easy to listen to the music and hear the romance and love in there and think of what could have been. But the music is the best expression of my relationship with Lauryn. The rest of it wasn’t smooth at all. We were either deeply in love or fighting; there was no middle ground. It was a passionate roller coaster ride, every single day. We had fights on planes. We had the police called to a hotel where we were staying in Germany because our arguing was keeping the neighbors awake. I know fans like to believe in things like that, but they have to remember that they’re basing what they think we could have been on the Lauryn and Clef they saw in the limelight and heard on the record. The real Lauryn is much more complicated than what comes through in her art. Same goes for me. In the face of that, I went with the woman who was down-to- earth, who had always and still tells me to believe in myself, and who believes in me and what I want to achieve—even after all I’ve done and all I’ve put her through to this day. She knows all the wrong I’ve done and she’s forgiven me and we are still together, because nothing can come between the love we have for each other. Claudinette is the woman who listens to the music I make and who tells me what she thinks of it, honestly. She’s the woman who gave me money to go out to the clubs when I was still a kid so that I could learn what the music industry was about. She’s the one I’d ride my sister’s BMX bicycle across town to see before I could afford a car. There was something enchanting about Claudinette, too, because she was what I consider my first experience with a woman. She was older, she was together, and she had it all figured out. She was untouchable, but I found a way to get to her, and when I did we fell in love. My father married Claudinette and me in his church and Lauryn was there at the ceremony, the reception, all of it — and that was definitely heavy. Lauryn respected the day so there was no confrontation because I’d told her that I’d made up my mind and that was it. Of course later, when we were on the road again, I fell back into indulging myself with her. My wedding was traditionally Haitian, which is to say that it was as big a party as the Greeks have, just with a whole different flavor. Entire families come. They eat, they talk, they laugh, they tell stories, and it goes on all day and night. My dad didn’t want any dancing in his church, though, so we all had to wait for him to leave to start partying. We even went so far as to have another secret reception in another room where there was a band and everyone was dancing. My dad, of course, heard about it and showed up there, too, and he suspended the musicians in the band, and all the women he caught celebrating, from coming to church for a month. As I’ve said before, the church band was a big deal in our neighborhood, and by then those musicians were getting paid to play, so getting banned for a month was real punishment. He was a serious dude, my dad. If Lauryn and I had a rocky relationship full of breakups and make-ups before, my getting married turned up the heat 100 percent. Like I said, when we got back on the road, she and I took up with each other again, and it was crazier than ever, fueled by the fact that I was married. I tried to keep from going there, but I’ve got to be honest: I didn’t want to end my romance with Lauryn. It didn’t feel natural to stop it. It was at the heart of our music; that love between us was the soul of what we were doing. It didn’t seem right to us to be on the road creating and living our musical life without that bond between us. It was impossible for us not to be drawn back into it; we were like pieces of metal, and that thing we had as two artists on a journey together was a magnet that pulled us together beyond our control. But one day it was love, and then the next day she would be chasing me down the street somewhere like Australia, beating me to the ground out of jealousy. Lauryn would keep it all inside and act like she was cool and we would be together the way we used to be and then, bam, she’d explode without warning. It was a constant cycle. I tried my best to keep my home life out of her face and separate, because that was sure to start a fight, but even if I had done that perfectly, those blowups would have happened. That’s just who she is: she’s a deep, soulful artist and she feels everything intensely. So she might have acted like it was cool, but she was thinking about it, and when she felt that jealousy or had enough with being cool, she’d let me know about it. Didn’t matter where we were or what we were doing; if she felt something strongly, I was going to know. I had a wife at home and a girlfriend on the road. That is not a new story in the music business, but this is one more case that proves that it will never be easy. We were touring: back to living together, eating together, performing together, sleeping together. Our relationship, our intimacy hadn’t changed within that bubble, but everything outside of it had. It was hard. Every time we were together, Lauryn would ask me, “How come you’re not with me?” I never knew what to say, because part of me was with her, and but more of me was with my wife. There was the part of me that understood her the way she understood me. But it didn’t change the fact that I’d made up my mind to go with the rock, not the feather. Lauryn and I always seemed to get into the most heated conversations about our relationship while we were traveling, usually on airplanes, and it never ended well. We had huge fights, and a few times when it went down she started swinging at me right there in the seats. People would scatter. We never got arrested, but we came close a few times in Europe. It’s a good thing this all happened before the iPhone. Airport security came on the plane in Germany once to make sure we were okay and weren’t going to hurt each other. That is the way it always was; we were emotion turned up to ten. Lauryn would go from extreme passion to extreme anger with little warning. The two of us were just crazy; that’s all. She is a Gemini, and anyone who has known one intimately can tell you that they can flip like a switch. She and I started out in a friendship that was beautiful, and over time it developed into a deep romance. And since it didn’t work out — and it tore her up emotionally — a lot of people have blamed me for Lauryn’s emotional instability and artistic inconsistency afterward. It’s sad but true that she’s not been herself as an artist in the years since “The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill.” No one is more upset about that than I am. I mean it; I am her biggest fan and I always will be. I’ve been told by many angry people who are also her fans that if I hadn’t messed with her she would not have gone so insane. My response to that is: you can talk as much as you want to talk, because talking is easy, because you’re not the one who was in my shoes. You’re not the one who had to be around that beautiful woman 24/7 sharing genius space with her. We shared a creation, one made of our passion, molded into music that went out into the world and became an album that seized the times. It’s the yin and the yang; there is a give and a take. We gave of ourselves, we put ourselves together to make something, and what happened was the price we had to pay. I wouldn’t take that back if it meant taking back what we did with the Fugees. I can’t speak for her, but I hope she feels the same. Excerpted from “Purpose: An Immigrant’s Story” by Wyclef Jean. Copyright 2012 Harper Collins. Reprinted with permission.

This is the last song he dropped about six years ago. I've always love his lyrics, and his unique mix of reggae, dance hall, R-N-B, and Hip-Hop. ...but everyone knows him from songs like "Girl, I've Been Hurt"

I just shared this song in the 'What Are You Listening To Now?' thread, but this song is too good to not put in its own post. Ali Shaheed Muhammad (A Tribe Called Quest) has collaborated with emcees JaPoet and David Luke, and soul singer Merna (Ayah, who we know from her work with DJ Jazzy Jeff). All I'm going to say is that it deals with the conduct of police and that it's one of the best songs I've ever heard. There was a time when Hip-Hop music actually impacted my emotions, and this song has awoken that feeling. Do yourself a favor and listen to it/watch the video here:

ALI SHAHEED MUHAMMAD, AYAH/MERNA, JAPOET, + DAVID LUKE - CPR (2014)

I love this. I find this so much more interesting than any movie-related news. And those guys can SANG. Someone get them a proper deal and get their voices and harmonies on the radio.

I may be the only one who follows Snow's music, but if anyone wants to read about his new single with Fat Joe and his future endeavors, here's the link... http://www.samaritanmag.com/musicians/informer-rapper-snow-drops-%E2%80%98shame%E2%80%99-cancer-wants-help-inmates Informer Rapper Snow Drops ‘Shame’ for Cancer, Wants To Help Inmates By Karen Bliss | www.samaritanmag.com Posted on December 17, 2014 — photo credit: T.E. Dennis. “I’m going to entertain for two more years. After that, I’m going to start doing some real goodness, real charity, real helping,” rapper Snow tells Samaritanmag. Having grown up in Toronto’s Allenbury Gardens housing projects, the 45-year-old always has charity at the back of his mind from helping disadvantaged kids in his old ‘hood to nurturing the artistic potential of inmates, something he wants to do next. But now he is doing something else that hits close to home. All of the proceeds from his long-awaited new single “Shame” — featuring reggae legend Mykal Rose (Black Uhuru) and produced by Kent Jones and Cool & Dre — goes to the U.S.-based Karen E. Mumford Cancer Foundation (KEM) in honour of his late wife. “Tamei passed away five years ago. It just came out of nowhere. We knew for like two weeks,” says Snow, whose real name is Darrin O’Brien. Tamei Edberg died of uterine cancer just after receiving the terrible news. According to the Canadian Cancer Society, it is the most common cancer of the female reproductive organs but unfortunately in Tamei’s case was diagnosed too late and wasn't able to be treated. Founded in 2007, KEM not only educates people about preventative practices "that can sharply eliminate chances of acquiring cancer," it states on its web site, but "will donate funds to cancer research while financially assisting sufferers of cancer and those undergoing treatment." Snow didn’t write “Shame” about cancer or his wife but as an explanation to his U.S. fans about why he disappeared off the radar following the release of his 1993 hit, “Informer,” which spent seven weeks at No. 1 on Billboard’s Hot 100 chart. “So after the song was done, we were thinking, ‘Let’s do something for cancer,’ so we got hold of the KEM Foundation. They help people with cancer. They don’t just take the money and do research; they help. So let’s do that that in her honour," says Snow. In Canada, Snow has had hit singles since “Informer,” including 1999’s “Everybody Wants To Be Like You,” which reached No. 2, and 2002’s “Legal,” which peaked at No. 13, but he hasn’t dropped an album in 12 years. He has always worked at his own pace, releasing albums when he meets a group of people (producers, co-writers, managers etc…) that are committed and fun. After all, he never set out to be an entertainer, he says. It just happened when he landed in jail on two attempted murder charges, then for assault causing bodily harm and came up with “Informer" (listen to the lyrics for the story). A jury found him not guilty but he had other charges on his criminal record that prevented him from entering (thus touring) the U.S. The matter that has finally been resolved (“no guns, no drugs, no violence towards women, just stupidity,” Snow says), allowing him to work in America now, which he is doing with Kent Jones, Scott Storch, Fat Joe, and others. His next single is “Ohh Baby,” featuring Fat Joe and a sample of Peter Frampton’s “Baby I Love Your Way.” It is due out in January. “I’ll probably give all that money away to some people in Ireland or Jamaica or something,” Snow laughs. When he mentions he’d like to continue entertaining for two more years then dive into charity work, Samaritanmag asks him what he’d like to do. “I’d like to…I don’t know. See, what makes me mad is jail, how they treat the inmates in jail. I don’t care what you do, whatever whatever whatever but they’re not dogs.” In August, Samaritanmag covered something that might be right up Snow’s alley. Musician/producer Chris Brown (Bourbon Tabernacle Choir, Barenaked Ladies, Chris Brown and Kate Fenner) runs the Pros and Cons program, which strives to assist prisoners through mentorship and constructive hands-on work. Postcards from the County is an album recorded behind bars with inmates and Canadian artists, such as Sarah Harmer and Luther Wright. “I wanna do it. Tell them to get a hold of me. I’ll do it. I know them all in jail,” enthuses Snow. “I wanna do two songs with the inmates. Everybody knows my family down there; when I go down there, everybody, big dogs down there. There’s so much talent there. And it’s a shame that if you’re walking down the street and you get caught with a bag of heroin or a bag a crack, you’re a crack user or a heroin user; you’re not a criminal. “Money will go to something to do with the jail – more instruments, more this, more that," he adds. "The talent is crazy. It’s not just music. It’s lost talent and they could be doing artwork for record companies or something, while they’re in there.” - See more at: http://www.samaritanmag.com/musicians/informer-rapper-snow-drops-%E2%80%98shame%E2%80%99-cancer-wants-help-inmates#sthash.Catw7QO2.k8FjyJUU.dpuf

TLC - All I Want For Christmas A LaFace Family Christmas (1993) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ptL8FD87d28

BRIA MARIE + DJ JAZZY JEFF - French Fries & Apple Pies (2012)

I've been listening to it almost non-stop for the past 24 hours. I love the album. It's been a long time since I've been this into a Hip-Hop album.

J. COLE - Apparently 2114 Forest Hills Drive (2014)

:::BUMP::: <----- There's a little Sony message board humor for some of you. :-P For those of you who love Christmas music, use this tread just like the "What Are You Listening To" thread, or simply share Christmas music that you like... CHRISTINA PERRI - Something About December A Very Merry Perri Christmas (2012)

MARY J. BLIGE - Whole Damn Year The London Sessions (2014) I love this album. I particularly love the piano on this...it reminds me of the warm piano on A. Key's stuff before she started making her style a little more slick.

Rapper Beanie Sigel Shot in New Jersey By Joe Coscarelli December 5, 2014 5:34 pmDecember 5, 2014 5:34 pm Photo Beanie Sigel being treated near the scene of the shooting on Friday.Credit Michael Ein/The Press of Atlantic City, via Associated Press The rapper Beanie Sigel, formerly of Jay Z’s Roc-A-Fella Records, was shot in the stomach on Friday morning in Pleasantville, N.J., Philadelphia’s NBC-10 reported. The incident occurred just after 9 a.m. outside Beanie Sigel’s home, following “some sort of altercation next to that property,” Jose Ruiz, Pleasantville’s chief of police, told NBC-10. Another man was reportedly injured, but refused to cooperate with the police. The 40-year-old Beanie Sigel (whose real name is Dwight Grant) was taken to a local hospital in critical condition and underwent surgery. He was awake as of Friday afternoon, according to The Associated Press. A lawyer for Beanie Sigel said the rapper was not the intended target of the shooting. Beanie Sigel’s last album with Roc-A-Fella was “The Solution” in 2007. In August, he was released after serving more than two years in federal prison for tax evasion. According to the federal Bureau of Prisons, his probation is scheduled to end on Saturday. http://artsbeat.blogs.nytimes.com/2014/12/05/rapper-beanie-sigel-shot-in-new-jersey/?WT.mc_id=AD-D-E-AOL-AD-FP-DEC-ARTSRISK-ROS-1202-1217&WT.mc_ev=click&bicmp=AD&bicmlukp=WT.mc_id&bicmst=1417496400&bicmet=1451538000&ad-keywords=DecAdRisk&icid=maing-grid7|aol20-s|dl5|sec1_lnk3%26pLid%3D576815&_r=0

I didn't realize it existed until the early-mid 2000's. I believe it was a rather limited release and that it was only released in one or two countries.

I've wanted this album for ages. It was released in 1998, but all of the music is from 1992 to 1995. It's a compilation of remixes from their previous albums. Normally it's priced really high since it was only released overseas, but when you posted this, I checked up on it and found one at a reasonable price, so I got it. Some of the best music from the 90's.

De La drops music, and I'm like "take my money," ...but I'm cool with free music too. LOL

I know there aren't many Madonna fans, but these are the two songs that leaked yesterday. I like this two better than the majority of the stuff on her past two albums. MADONNA - Rebel Heart (upcoming 2015 album) (2014) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PSK2FNSJXEw

MADONNA - Wash All Over Me (her or Avicii's 2015 album) (2014) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OCKl3EhV0VQ

BLACK MOON - Who Got Da Props? Enta Da Stage (1993)

Whoa, I just checked me email and they are giving the song away for free! You can get it here: http://www.wearedelasoul.com/products/51944-the-people-feat-chuck-d-digital-download?utm_source=Link+1&utm_medium=Email&utm_campaign=The+People

Prepare your ears for dopeness... For some reason I'm unable to copy and paste the article, so you can read about it here: http://www.rollingstone.com/music/premieres/de-la-soul-chuck-d-the-people-20141128

Great interview. I didn't know they were the first signed to A Touch of Jazz. I think this is the first time they've ever shared that. Zhane seemed to have a love/hate relationship with "Ring My Bell." I remember talking about it early in their career fondly, but a little later they talked about it reluctantly. I think they got caught up in the talk that JJ+FP was too accessible to the mainstream at that particular time. I'm glad that that it's being mentioned in a better light now. Here's the full article if anyone wants to read the whole thing... Nineties R&B group Zhané celebrates twentieth anniversary of debut album, Pronounced Jah-nay For Pronounced Jah-nay's twentieth anniversary, we spoke with Renee Neufville about recording one of the more definitive R&B albums from the 1990s. by Chris Williams By the mid 1990s, there was an assortment of R&B groups dominating the musical landscape. On the campus of Temple University in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, two young women were on the verge of staking their claim amongst R&B music’s elite. After a chance meeting with Benny Medina, Renee Neufville and Jean Norris decided to join forces to form a dynamic songwriting tandem. As a result, their debut album achieved platinum success. On February 15, 1994, Pronounced Jah-nay was released by Motown Records. Riding the wave from their overwhelming smash hit, “Hey Mr. D.J.,” Zhane ushered in a new, refreshing sound to rival their contemporaries. For the album’s twentieth anniversary, I spoke with Neufville about recording one of the more definitive R&B albums from the 1990s. What is the story behind the forming of the duo? We were the first artists signed to A Touch of Jazz by Jazzy Jeff. We were students at Temple University. We met Jazzy Jeff because we were students in Philadelphia, and we would enter talent shows to pay our bills. Word got to him that there were these girls at Temple University who could sing. Somebody introduced us to him, and he took us under his wing and formed A Touch of Jazz production company. While we were working with Jazzy Jeff, he was working with Will Smith on their Homebase album, which went platinum. During that time, Will Smith was going back and forth to California because he was pursuing an acting career. So Quincy Jones and Benny Medina were very instrumental in that transition for Will. With the amount of hours that my partner Jean and I spent at the studio, we in turn got to meet Benny Medina. Benny Medina saw us play and sing when we were separate artists, but we were roommates, too. He suggested to us that we should become a group. So – we said OK, and that’s how we became a group. It was Benny Medina’s idea. This happened during a random sighting at a studio. During that time, it was rare to see two women as a duo. Can you explain the process that Jean and you went through to become a group, since you were solo artists in the beginning? How long did it take you all to get acclimated to each other’s styles to make it work? It didn’t take us long because we were roommates. We spent all our time together as roommates. There wasn’t a learning curve at all. Earlier you were going to speak about your group’s look, and how it was so different from the norm back then. It’s one of the many things that made you all stand out besides the fact you were a duo. Well, prior to the 1990s, most of the girl groups had a uniform, homogenous look. I was 5’9 ½ and my partner, Jean was 5’2. I knew that aesthetically we were different. I was dark-skinned and thin, and she was light-skinned. So I tried to think of a way for us to have a look that would make sense for people to accept. I suggested that we would keep our hair cropped. I told Jean to cut her hair low and I would wear mine low as finger waves. So that way, aesthetically, it would be something that would tie us together. And, she agreed. How did you come up with the group name? We were presented with a contract, and I’m not sure where Jean was at the time, but I was sitting at my kitchen table trying to figure out how we were going to sign this contract. At this time, we were just recording material, and we weren’t really thinking about the name. I sat down at my kitchen table in Brooklyn. I took out a piece of paper, and I started jotting down names. I tried different names like Nah-jay, Fade to Black, and many others. I remember brainstorming about it by myself knowing that we had to sign this contract, but we didn’t have a group name yet. When I thought of Jah-nay, at first, it was a combination of her name and mine because they’re both French names. I used the J from her name and added to my –nay sound at the end of my name. However, I thought to myself that, if we happen to be famous one day, and we do autographs, the Z would look better. That’s how I came up with the name, and then I told Jean later. She agreed that it was a good name. The sound emanating from this album was much different than what was popular during that time period. What direction were you trying to go in with the sound of the album? To be honest, we didn’t sit down and think about a direction for the sound. We just recorded song after song after song, and then at the end of that process, the album was complete. But the influences for most of the hit records from that album stemmed from my childhood in Brooklyn. In the 70s and 80s, I was exposed to music from Patrice Rushen, Atlantic Starr, and Loose Ends. I loved the vibes from those records. It was my thing. I loved that classic sound. To me, it was easier to not start a trend, but trying to create a classic sound. The appeal of a classic record is infinite. If you look at today’s market, vintage happens to be popular amongst the younger generation. Everyone likes to go back to what is classic. The music from the 70s and 80s, which is so soulful, is what I listened to in New York City. Were you influenced by any of the music your contemporaries were releasing during the making of this album? Yes. Definitely! When N’Dea Davenport came out with that Brand New Heavies album, it was a breath of fresh air. The sound was cutting edge. It wasn’t a New Jack Swing sound. We came from the New Jack Swing era, but our music wasn’t New Jack Swing. We had more of a London, rare groove, soul, jazzy feel. I loved the Brand New Heavies stylistically and visually. They were somewhat of an influence because they were trying to push the envelope and going against the grain of the New Jack Swing sound. They were trying to have a more individual sound. I felt like, back then, the artists coming out of London definitely approached their music with a very individualistic mindset. Of course there was music that we loved, but didn’t sound like ours. Mary J. Blige’s album came out a year or two before ours. Mint Condition was hitting big. We loved and respected those artists. What was the creative dynamic that existed between Jean and you while you were constructing this album? For the most part, on this album, there were certain songs that were 100 percent us. We were both musicians. Some of those songs were written in the music hall at Temple University on a piano. For the hit records that were released, they were produced by Kay Gee from Naughty by Nature. He would provide us with a cassette tape with a bunch of instrumentals on it, and send us home with it. We would go back and forth from Philadelphia to New Jersey. Both Jean and I would have a cassette of those beats. Whoever wrote lyrics to those tracks, we would move forward with it. It just so happened that I was writing prolifically at that time, and Kay Gee liked it and it worked. Writing is where my heart is. I would write the lyrics to the songs. I would write the arrangements. I would teach Jean her parts within a song, and we would record it. We recorded our songs in a studio in northern New Jersey. At that time, Naughty by Nature was starting to hit, and it was at the beginning of their careers. So Kay Gee didn’t have his own facility, yet. He was working out of a spot off of Route 1 and 9 near Jersey City. We would go back and forth from Philadelphia on the weekends. We would take the Amtrak train every Friday night to Newark, and he would pick us up and put us in a hotel. Then, we would go into the studio first thing on Saturday morning and work all day. We would work on Sunday, too and head back to Philadelphia on Sunday night. He did this for a long time until the album was done. Most of our friends at Temple University didn’t even know. It wasn’t the popular thing to record records back then. Getting into the music business seem far removed from most people’s realities at that time. It wasn’t as accessible as it became later on. We were still living in the dream. We didn’t understand what was happening. We didn’t know what was going to be the outcome. We didn’t know if people were going to understand us because we were so different than what was out in the mainstream. We just took a chance, and that’s what youth allows you to do. The groove between Jean and I was that the tonality of our voices were very compatible. I wrote a lot of harmonies back then. So when we got together and did a song, our harmonies almost sounded like one voice. She had a lot of highs in her voice, and naturally, I had a lot of lows in mine. So together, it really worked sonically, and we lived together. You know when you live together with someone for a long time you start to sound like them — that’s what was happening. If one of us picked up the phone, the person on the other end couldn’t tell if it was me or Jean. Our connection was seamless. How long did it take for you to start and finish this album? The process took from 1990 through 1992. What is the background story of you getting signed to Motown Records? The song “Hey Mr. D.J.” was one of the many tunes we recorded for the album. Kay Gee was doing some work for a compilation album called Roll Wit Tha Flava under Flavor Unit Records, which was run by Queen Latifah. Queen Latifah essentially signed us into the business. We came into the business under Flavor Unit for that one song. She did Kay Gee a favor by putting that record on the compilation album to give his group, us, Zhane, a little bit of shine. It turned out that song was the breakout hit from the album. Back then, deejays weren’t dictated to as to what to play. So when the deejays got the promo copies of Roll Wit Tha Flava, which had Fu-Schnickens, Freddie Foxx, Queen Latifah, Naughty by Nature, and many other great artists, they, for some reason, decided on their own to play our first single. So our first single ended up being forced to be our first single because the record label couldn’t ignore any longer the success that was bubbling up from the underground. So they jumped on it. That’s when Zhane’s career started. We had to rush our album, and we had to get a record deal because the song took off. We hadn’t finished recording songs for the album yet. The song was climbing up the charts. We were playing in everyone’s car. People were requesting us to perform across the country, so we had to strike when the iron was hot. Our album wasn’t done, and we didn’t have a follow up tune to that song. I wrote that song in my bedroom while sitting on the floor. I remember presenting it to Kay Gee. I told him I had this song called “Hey Mr. D.J.” I told him it reminded me of when I had block parties on my block back in Brooklyn. When I sang it to him, he laughed at me. [laughing] He thought it was a joke. But we recorded it, and everyone seemed to love it. So imagine that “Hey Mr. D.J.” was a hit, there’s this group that no one has ever seen before, there’s no video for the song, the album isn’t done, and we hadn’t sign to a record label for a full length album yet. There was a bidding war for us. We ended up signing to Motown Records. Queen Latifah’s mother was very instrumental in terms of us being signed because she was the first person we met. She told us that we needed to meet her daughter Dana. When we met Dana, she said, “I want to sign your group.” Kay Gee said, “Cool.” And we were on Flavor Unit Records. After that, there was a bidding war for the group. We went with Motown for the album deal. The album was released in the first quarter of 1994. It was the fastest gold-selling album in the history of Motown Records. It went gold overnight. I remember being under a lot of pressure because we needed a song to segue from “Hey Mr. D.J.” into everything else that was on the album. We needed a song that had a similar feel and rhythm, but we didn’t. So Kay Gee sampled Patrice Rushen’s “Haven’t You Heard.” He slowed it down, and he sent us the cassette. I went into the basement, and overnight I wrote “Groove Thang.” He listened to it, and he told us this would be our second single and now, we could release the album. After “Groove Thang,” we released “Sending My Love.” Everything happened so, organically. A lot of the process was capitalizing on the opportunities as they came. Once we realized that the audience was responding to the music with this energy, it was important for the label and Kay Gee that we continued that. It has stood the test of time because these songs are still played pretty much everyday in New York City, which is amazing and a blessing. How many songs did you record for this album? Every song that you heard on the album is how many we recorded for it. [laughing] It wasn’t like we went into the studio, hung out, and got a big budget to record the album. We went in and recorded the songs. Then, we would come back the next week, and do the same thing. When we had enough songs to make a record, we put it out. Every song we recorded made the album. We had a small budget for the album. We weren’t proven artists, yet. Kay Gee was basically taking a chance with us. He just had a whim that this would work because he liked it. He followed his own instincts. Queen Latifah followed her instincts. When I was writing these tunes, I was following my instincts. Jean followed her instincts. Patrice Rushen was our blueprint. Take me through the creative process in making each song for the album? On “Vibe” we used a sample from George Benson’s “Love X Love” record. The chord changes were very jazzy because George Benson’s background is in jazz guitar. This song was written for the people. It wasn’t about love or a critical situation. It wasn’t personalized. It was basically a song to the people telling them to keep their mind in a state of Zen and stay optimistic and be open to life. It’s one of those songs that sounds like background music, but feels like a glass of cool water when you hear it. I remember WBLS at the time was called “The Vibe.” So – when radio stations got the album, they were told to start playing the second single “Groove Thang,” but WBLS decided to play what they wanted to play, which was this song. It caused a bit of drama with the record label because they liked to keep everything uniform throughout the market. WBLS wanted to do their own thing. They coined that song as their theme record. Between commercial breaks, they would use our song. I do remember that. I remember writing “Sending My Love” when I was coming home from college on the New Jersey transit bus. I was going to my brother’s house in Philly. “Sending My Love” was a song I wrote for my boyfriend at the time. We had a long distance relationship. He lived in the next town over but it was still long distance. He was my first love. I thought about Stephanie Mills and the way her lyrics were written. Her words were so poetic and visual. I sat on the bus and said to myself, “If I could mail my heart right to you, I would.” And that was the first line to “Sending My Love.” “I would pack it up, seal it tight, and send it overnight.” To me, that’s how grown folks used to talk to each other when they fell in love. The studio that we worked out of in New Jersey was run by a guy named Dave Bellochio, and Dave played keys. I think Dave and Kay Gee came together, and Kay Gee would get on the MPC and he would make a break beat. The break beat that was used for “Sending My Love” has been used by EPMD and Jodeci. It’s a very common break beat. Dave would add some color and chords on it. Kay Gee always loved hearing the keys, and the track is very simple. Kay Gee comes from a hardcore hip-hop background, and Zhane’s sound along with Kay Gee’s edge was a very nice marriage. A lot of guys who were into hip-hop could relate to it because it wasn’t too soft or too sweet. With “Sending My Love,” Kay Gee made sure that the balance was there. He sent the track to us and I came up with the song. “Sweet Taste of Love” was written at Presser Hall in the music department at Temple University in one of their practice rooms. This song was also written for my first love. “Changes” was also written about my first love. It was written over the summer of 1989. I was working at the Department of Social Services on 98 Flatbush Ave. in Brooklyn. I was a clerk there. I would type out all the welfare checks for the recipients. I remember being at work writing down lyrics to this song because he and I might of had a quarrel. It’s your first love. There’s distance and you’re missing each other. I felt like he was putting me through a lot of changes. When I got home, we had an upright piano in the living room, and I wrote the chords to it and I put the poem I wrote to the chords. It was one of the first tunes Jazzy Jeff had heard when we met him. These were songs that I came to Temple with. I’m going to let you guess who “You’re Sorry Now” is about. [laughing] He cheated on me. It was my first love, and my first heartache all in one. They always say love can do one of two things: it can break you or you can make beautiful music out of it. I used music at that time as a diary. It was my way of dealing with my life. “Love Me Today” was a song that was written about love lost. It was a rebound situation where you’ve broken up with someone you love because you felt like you had to. However, you’re not ready to let go of one another. So there’s a tug of war that goes on between the two of you and some days you want to forget about everything and tell them love me today and make love to me right now. It’s a real feeling. We’ve all been there. “Off My Mind” was a song where I was feeling feelings for the very first time in my life. This song was that moment where I was trying to be so strong, but I had to be honest with myself that I’m extremely vulnerable and I’m weak, and I can be as strong as an oak tree or I can bend like a willow. “Off My Mind” was a song written in three movements. It started off like a slow ballad and then it went into what we call in jazz, a swing rhythm, and after that, it goes into a classical arpeggio without the drum machine. I have to be thankful for this relationship. It was me on the piano. We hired an acoustic bassist and trumpeter. We had live drums. We cut the record so we could have a jazz record on there. It was a very emotional tune. “La La La” was a song that Jean and I wrote together. We were in Presser Hall. Jean played the piano. We sat beside each other at the piano, and we would vibe together between classes and this song came out. It was a combination of whoever she was dating at the time, and the same guy I was dating. “For a Reason” was a song that Jean wrote. It was a time where our years at Temple were over, and life as we knew it, was pretty much over. We were embarking on this new journey with the music business. This was unmarked territory for us. “For a Reason” was really about the transition from college to this new world from adolescence to adulthood. As you look back 20 years later, how do feel about the impact the album has made on popular culture? I’ll never get over the feeling of hearing our songs on the radio for the first time. Every time I hear them, it’s like the first time. It’s a feeling I’ll never get over having. One thing I can say is during the peak of our success, I was fully aware of the blessing that it was and the importance and rarity of it. I never took that opportunity for granted. So now, when I hear our songs, I feel very proud of the material, and the mark that was made. I’m grateful to know that once my soul leaves the physical body, the music will outlive all of us. It’s one of the biggest gifts I could ever imagine receiving because life is so short. This is the legacy we’ve left behind. We came up in a time when classic music was being made. Not just hit records, but records that will be played forever. The music industry has changed so much. I don’t know if that formula is there anymore to make a classic record that will last 60 years from now. I’ll always love the music we created.

I love her albums too, but her overly sexy moments come off as forced. J. Lo may be confident in herself, but it seems like an popular female artist has to wear what she's wearing. It's unfortunate that everyone plays along.

Dawn Robinson, Maxine Jones unhappy about ‘An EnVogue Christmas’ Nov 25, 2014 By Tracy Scott Lifetime aired a made-for-TV Christmas movie Saturday, featuring ‘90s R&B group EnVogue, excluding original member Dawn Robinson, and the former “R&B Divas: LA” star was none too pleased. Dawn threatened to sue the network for airing the An EnVogue Christmas, starring Terry Ellis, Cindy Herron and newer member Genelle Williams,” according to TMZ. According to reports, Dawn has no rights to the EnVogue name, but wanted her character included in the film, in which she expressed little confidence. “I have no interest in watching it. It looks horrible. I’m sad for them,” she told TMZ, referencing Lifetime’s much-criticized Aaliyah biopic. “I’m extremely worried that this is going to be a train wreck.” Apparently, original member Maxine Jones was equally perturbed by the Lifetime film, though, she isn’t planning to file any lawsuits. I think it’s wack,” Maxine told the HipHopSocialite earlier this month. “I don’t like it when I’m watching them; I don’t. I don’t because I feel like they’re calling themselves EnVogue, and they’re not.” Even though she’s given up any legal claim to the EnVogue name, Maxine doesn’t like the feeling of being replaced in a group she helped make a success. “It’s supposed to be an EnVogue reunion. It’s two of them there,” she said. “You think you can just get somebody off the street and call it a freakin’ reunion? I don’t think so.” Even though an honest-to-goodness EnVogue reunion would include Terry, Cindy, Maxine and Dawn, Maxine said she’s not too sure that would work either. “I have tried everything in my power to work with Dawn,” she said of the former Lucy Pearl singer who spent one season on “R&B Divas: LA.” "She’s talented and beautiful. There’s not a question about that, but the girl is looney. That’s what I’ll say about it,” Maxine said. “I’m not trying anymore; I’m done. That’s never going to happen ever again.” An EnVogue Christmas airs Wednesday, Nov. 26, at 6 p.m. EST and twice in December. http://s2smagazine.com/2014/11/25/dawn-robinson-maxine-jones-unhappy-about-an-envogue-christmas/