Book Excerpt: Bobby Brown's Memoir, 'Every Little Step'

— -- Excerpted from 'Every Little Step' by Bobby Brown, written with Nick Chiles and published by Dey Street Books.

CHAPTER 1

MY MUSICAL ROOTS

When I stretch my mind back to my earliest memories, music was always there. While other little kids in Boston dreamed about playing for the Red Sox or the Celtics, I dreamed about stepping onto a stage and thrilling the crowd with my singing and dancing.

Music was constantly playing in my house, with everybody throwing their own sound into the mix. With six children and my mother and father, we're talking about a lot of sound. Whenever my dad, Herbert, came home from work, he would put on some blues, or maybe funk. Then he would start dancing and acting crazy. We would be laughing so hard our stomachs would hurt. My late father is still the funniest man I've ever met. Not Eddie Murphy or Martin Lawrence. Not Kevin Hart. Herbert Brown. And my mother actually sang in a duo with her brother Robert—whom I was named after—when they were younger, so she had performing in her blood.

But I think the biggest musical influence on me was my grandmother, my mother's mom. She had an apartment on the first floor in the Orchard Park projects; we lived right above her on the second floor. My grandmother had a massive record collection. I knew her apartment was a place I could go and lose myself in music. It became my sanctuary, where I could get away from the noise and craziness of my large family and go exploring in her records.

My grandmother loved Duke Ellington, so that's where I would usually start. I didn't mind the big-band jazz because I could jitterbug to it. I liked all types of music though; I'd play the Chi-Lites, the Manhattans, Blue Magic. This was the mid-to-late seventies (I was born in February 1969), so these groups were still in their heyday, before disco hurt their popularity. From there, I would gradually move into the funkier stuff. My God, funk was everything to me. James Brown, Bootsy Collins, Parliament, Rick James—damn, I'd lose my mind. I had no idea how influential Rick James would later become in my life.

When I put on the funk, I'd start the dancing, working out the routines I was always putting together. My grandmother would be watching me from the kitchen, where she was cooking, and she'd have a big smile on her face as she watched me move. I'd be getting down and she'd be getting a big kick out of it. For me, the best thing about dancing was making her smile, making her laugh, knowing she was enjoying what I was doing. Looking back on this time now, pleasing my grandma was probably where I got this drive to do whatever I can to please my fans. My grandmother was my first fan.

Eventually my bada-- brother, Tommy, would come into the apartment. He would get mad that my grandmother was paying me way more attention than him—so he'd have to ---- up everything.