The air in New Orleans’ Seventh Ward was thick with music in the early 90s—boomboxes battled on sidewalks, brass bands marched without warning, and the city hummed with life. Through a cracked window, that hum drifted into a home where a young Luke James sat transfixed by a tape of a man singing Donny Hathaway’s “A Song for You” at The Apollo. He didn’t know the singer’s name, but he felt something. “Apollo, and when my life is over, remember when we were together,” the man sang—and James was ch...

The members of 112 have solidified their place as one of R&B’s most legendary and impactful groups, redefining the genre with a distinctive fusion of unfiltered emotion, soulful harmonies, and unforgettable storytelling. As the landscape of music continues to evolve, so has the sound of R&B, leaving many to question whether the essence of the genre, the very love and soul that groups like 112 helped shape, is fading away.The last decade has been challenging for timeless R&B enthusiasts. As rap h...

“Twelve birthdays, twelve Christmases, twelve summers gone—but I ain’t miss a beat.”B.G. has been gone for over twelve years. Long enough for rap trends to rise and fall, and long enough for entire careers to come and go, but the original Hot Boy never left the heart of New Orleans or the DNA of Southern rap. Now, fresh out of prison, B.G.’s not just stepping back into the world; he’s reclaiming his place in it.Once the voice of a generation, Hot Boys member B.G. was known for his street sermons...

It was my first day in New York City, and my head was still spinning from the excitement of a new chapter in my life. After a long day of moving, I walked into an Italian restaurant, tired and hungry, unaware that I was about to become part of something bigger. The waiter wasn’t just taking my order; he was full of energy, ready to dive deep into conversation. We talked about music, my dream of becoming a journalist, and the stories I wanted to tell. Then, he naturally spoke about his son, an up...

For years, Justice Samari moved through the world as Sparkz Gawd, a name that echoed through hallways since junior high and carried him into the early chapters of his music career. As Justice Samari grew, first as a man, then as a father, the name he was born with began calling him back. “My mother gave me that name,” he says, “and now it’s my daughter’s name too. I feel like I had to put more respect on that.” The change wasn’t impulsive; it was a quiet shift he’d considered for some time. Spar...