The Fists, the $187 Check, and the Gunshots: Ronnie Devoe Confirms the Bitter Truth That Tore New Edition’s Brotherhood Apart

The story of New Edition is often told in two parts: the bubblegum brilliance of their early hits and the legendary reunion that solidified their status as R&B royalty. They were the blueprint for the boy band phenomenon, a symbol of childhood friendship that translated into musical magic.Yet, behind the synchronized choreography and the velvet-smooth harmonies lay four decades of financial betrayal, emotional turmoil, and personal demons that repeatedly threatened to splinter their very foundation.

At age 57,Ronnie Devoe, one-fifth of the group’s core, has offered a fresh, heartbreaking confirmation of the long-whispered rumors that shadowed the group. Looking back on their journey, Devoe speaks not just of triumph, but of profound regret—a sense that the “brotherhood” they cherished was often insufficient to save them from the pressures of fame, industry ruthlessness, and self-destruction. In his reflective revelations, the full, volatile cost of being a member of New Edition comes into devastating focus, proving that the most explosive battles the group ever faced were not fought on the charts, but behind the scenes and, most notoriously, on a single, fateful night in 1997.

The Night the Brotherhood Broke: New Mexico, 1997

The emotional core of New Edition’s internal warfare is forever cemented by a single event that occurred during the 1997 Home Again reunion tour. After nearly a decade apart, the group—including Bobby Brown, who had become a solo superstar—was back together, much to the excitement of their fans. But the reunion was messy. Old drama, unresolved resentment, and personal issues returned with a vengeance, creating a tense atmosphere from the moment the tour bus rolled out.

The breaking point arrived during a performance in Las Cruces, New Mexico. Bobby Brown, whose solo set had a tendency to run long and clash with the group’s carefully scheduled show, was on stage. The tension was already high, amplified by Brown’s known struggles with substance use and his volatile behavior. As Devoe confirmed, Bobby’s set went excessively long, threatening the entire evening. In a moment of pure, desperate frustration, Devoe acted. He walked onto the stage and attempted to pull Brown off, a move born of exasperation, not malice.

The result was immediate and violent. The attempt to control the chaos sparked a full-on fistfight between Bobby Brown and Michael Bivvens. The brotherhood fractured in real-time before a massive audience, fists flying in a devastating display of internal collapse. As security rushed to break up the melee, the situation escalated beyond belief: gunshots rang out, forcing the concert to shut down completely. Devoe, recalling the terrifying sound of the gun, spoke of the instinctual need to flee, confirming that night was less a concert and more a crisis. This was the moment the myth of the unified band was publicly and irrevocably shattered, leading to Brown and Bivvens leaving the tour early, and reminding fans just how fragile the group’s bond truly was.

The Seeds of Shame: Bobby’s First Exit

The 1997 blowup was merely a catastrophic repeat of conflicts that had plagued the group from the beginning. Bobby Brown’s first, defining separation from New Edition in 1986 was fueled by an irreconcilable clash between his evolving persona and the group’s manufactured image. The music world adored their “squeaky clean, teen-friendly image,” but Brown had grown tired of the “teeny bop thing.” He yearned for a “more mature, bold, and grown” style, a desire that put him directly at odds with the group’s wholesome vibe.

This conflict manifested in increasingly erratic and rebellious behavior. Brown started showing up late, missing major appearances like Soul TrainandSolid Gold, and reportedly showing up “loaded” to shows. He once threw a microphone that narrowly missed Michael Bivvens. As Brown later admitted, he “felt they didn’t want me to do anything.” The reality was that his refusal to adhere to the group’s controlled image, coupled with his rising personal demons, created an environment of tension that was simply unsustainable. He was eventually voted out and left to pursue a solo career, a necessary, but deeply painful, divorce that left a scar on the friendship and created a rivalry that would simmer for over a decade.

The Price of Fame: $187 and the $100,000 Debt

Before the fame came the betrayal. The emotional and personal scars of the New Edition members were deepened by the merciless financial exploitation they endured as minors. They had rocketed to stardom in 1983 with “Candy Girl,” their debut album going platinum and earning them worldwide fame. They hit the road for their first major tour, performing relentlessly while still just 13 to 15 years old.

The reward for their tireless work was a staggering moment of disillusionment: after the tour was complete, each member was presented with a check for a paltry $187. They were told tour expenses had devoured the rest of the profits. This initial, cruel betrayal by their first producer, Maurice Starr, set the stage for a cycle of financial exploitation that they struggled to escape.

Their subsequent deal with MCA Records, while initially promising, contained another trap. They were not signed directly to the label, but to a production company called Jump & Shoot. To break free and gain control over their own destiny, each of the five young men was forced to borrow $100,000 from MCA. This massive, crippling debt hung over them—a constant, suffocating reminder that they had to keep touring and recording, not for artistic freedom, but simply to pay back the loan that bought their initial liberty. This financial pressure was the silent architect of much of the stress and resentment that would later manifest in public feuds.

The Silent Suffering: Ricky Bell’s Hidden Battle

While Bobby Brown’s struggles were public and explosive, the “brotherhood” was also dealing with a devastating private demon, one that was kept hidden for years: Ricky Bell’s battle with addiction. Unlike Brown, whose behavior made headlines, Bell’s descent into addiction remained a closely guarded secret, only fully revealed in the 2017 BET miniseries, The New Edition Story.

Bell’s struggles began around the mid-90s, the same tumultuous period when the group was working on the ill-fated Home Again album. He became hooked on oxycodone and alcohol, a dependency that quickly took over his life. The habit became so expensive that it led to financial ruin—he lost his home, sold nearly all his belongings, and found himself spirally toward the edge. His lowest moment came one night when his wife found him passed out in the bathroom after an overdose, a terrifying close call that shocked him into recovery.

Bell’s quiet battle adds a crucial layer of context to Devoe’s regret. Devoe lamented not giving Bobby Brown “brother help” when he was clearly struggling, but the fact that Bell had to suffer in silence, keeping his pain hidden from his closest friends for so long, highlights the dysfunctional nature of their bond under pressure. The structure of their professional lives often prevented them from being the authentic, supportive family they claimed to be, prioritizing their image and performance over their individual well-being. Bell’s eventual sobriety and public sharing of his story became a second, powerful chapter of redemption for the group’s narrative.

The Last Scramble: The Trademark War and Final Peace

Even after the celebrated BET series introduced their story to a new generation, the group faced one final, bitter disagreement. Johnny Gill and Ralph Tresvant discovered a shocking oversight: nobody had ever officially trademarked the name “New Edition.” To secure their future legacy, they trademarked the name themselves.

This seemingly sensible business move sparked the last, great internal split. Ricky Bell, Michael Bivvens, Bobby Brown, and Ronnie Devoe felt blindsided, believing Gill and Tresvant had acted behind their backs. The group immediately fractured into two camps: Gill and Tresvant as a duo, and the remaining four forming RBRM (Ronnie, Bobby, Ricky, and Mike).

Neither splinter group could recapture the original magic, proving that the magic lay in the complete, full picture. Fans refused to accept a divided group. This forced the members to finally sit down and work through their core issues. In a hard-fought and emotional reconciliation, the members signed paperwork to become equal owners of the New Edition trademark. This final step ensured that no single person could hold power over the name, putting an end to the power struggles and establishing a truly unified front.

Today, New Edition is a symbol of hard-won resilience. Their successful CultureandLegacy tours, and their richly deserved honors, including the Hollywood Walk of Fame star, are testaments to a brotherhood that, despite being constantly tested by greed, fame, and addiction, ultimately came full circle. Devoe’s confirmation of the dark truths of their journey only deepens the appreciation for their enduring success—a career built on talent, but ultimately sustained by a bond that, against all odds, proved unbreakable.