The WTF Comeback of SWV

How a largely forgotten Nineties R&B trio evolved into reality TV's biggest new stars

Taj George, Coko Clemons and Lelee Lyons of SWV on 'SWV Reunited' airing on January 16th, 2014.
eOne/WE tv
February 20, 2014 8:00 AM ET

It's about 30 minutes until SWV take the stage at Manhattan's Madison Square Garden on a freezing night in February, and the three members of the 1990s R&B trio — best remembered for their massive hits "Weak" and "I'm So Into You" — can hardly believe their long-shot comeback bid has brought them to this point after grinding it out for so long on the casino and club circuit. It's been 21 years since they last played MSG, back when they were on the star-packed Budweiser Superfest bill alongside MC Lyte, Big Daddy Kane, Bell Biv Devoe, Tag Team and a pair of young rappers named Biggie and Tupac.

All the other acts on that bill are either dead or decades past their prime, but SWV are experiencing one of the most unlikely revivals in pop history thanks to their new hit reality show SWV Reunited on WE TV, which has managed to outdraw Project RunwayMillionaire MatchmakerCouple's Therapy and most every other show on cable despite very limited promotion. Over the past two months, millions of viewers — many of whom probably haven't thought about SWV since the first Clinton administration, assuming they've even heard of them in the first place — have tuned in to watch Cheryl "Coko" Clemons, Tamara "Taj" Johnson-George and Leanne "Lelee" Lyons, all in their early forties, fight like actual sisters over everything from whether or not to fire their longtime manager to the wisdom of having a highly invasive Brazilian Butt Lift operation days before launching a tour. (The consensus? Not the best move.)

The cameras have been gone since last fall, when the show finished filming, and the ladies have actually resolved some of the differences that tore them apart in the Nineties (how to split the money was an issue), but they're still far from close friends — they stay in their separate dressing rooms until immediately before they walk onstage. "I didn't think anyone still gave a damn about us," says Lelee, as she applies her own eyeliner between frantic phone calls from an old friend looking for tickets to the show. "I can't be any happier. This shows that it doesn't matter how old you are, you can still follow your dreams."

Lelee wasn't always so sure about that. Back in 1999, one year after the group's highly acrimonious breakup, she found herself without a dollar in her pocket, unsure how she'd support her two young children."I was a suicidal wreck," she glumly reveals a few days after the show. "I was staying at the Marriott on 42nd Street in Times Square. I was on the eleventh floor and I climbed onto the balcony of my room, about to jump. Instead, I called my sister and we both just started crying for 30 minutes. Eventually, she said 'Leanne, come home. Just come home.' I then looked at myself in the mirror and just cried. I said to myself, 'What the hell were you thinking?' I really was one phone call away from killing myself."

SWV in 1996.
Raymond Boyd/Michael Ochs Archives/Getty Images

Just a few years earlier, SWV seemed poised to become the Supremes of the New Jack Swing era, complete with massive hit singles, a mercurial frontwoman and two backup singers increasingly unhappy about being pushed out of the spotlight. It all started in New York City in 1989 when Lelee — then 19 and working at Toys "R" Us in midtown Manhattan — called up her friend Coko to ask about forming a group, even though they'd rarely sang anywhere outside of church. "She was like, 'Stop playing,'" says Lelee. "'Call me back when you're serious.' I finally convinced her and we went through a bunch of other girls before we found Taj. She was extremely shy and would only sing if we turned out the lights. When we finally sang together we sounded really beautiful and we knew we had something."

Things happened very quickly from there. En Vogue blew up in the summer of 1990 and major labels were racing to sign similar acts. "We originally called ourselves TLC for Tamara, Leanne and Cheryl," says Taj, speaking by phone a few days after the MSG show. "Within six months we got a cease-and-desist letter from Epic claiming they had a TLC and they've claimed the name. Our manager suggested SWV for Sisters With Voices. We thought it was corny at first, but now I can't imagine calling us anything else."

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RCA A&R Director Kenny Ortiz got ahold of their demo tape, and was blown away by the power and incredible range of Coko's voice. He teamed the girls up with Brian Alexander Morgan, a struggling singer/songwriter who has gone on to work with everyone from Mariah Carey to Ariana Grande. "I got chills when I heard Coko's voice," says Morgan. "I had written this song love song 'Weak' for Charlie Wilson, but I gave it to them. Coko was real cold to me at first and not very nice. She didn't like the song and gave me real attitude when we recorded it."

The label, however, heard a hit and sent SWV to California to record an entire album with Morgan. "I played them 'I'm So Into You' and then Coko warmed up," he says. "I remember her calling her mom on the phone and saying, 'Mommy, Brian just wrote a smash!'"

Their debut single "Right Here," a New Jack Swing dance tune that sounds like it could have been cut by Bobby Brown around the time of "My Prerogative," hit the radio in September of 1992. "I was sweeping the floor of my apartment when it came on," says Taj. "I just lost my mind and started jumping up and down. The neighbors below me started to hit the roof and scream, 'Cut it out!'" 

It was one of the few times the song got airplay, and the album stiffed when it hit stores a month later. The girls travelled the country by van, sharing hotel rooms and playing promo shows in tiny clubs, but it wasn't until a Seattle station began playing "I'm So Into You," their second single, that things began changing. The song spread all down the West Coast and finally across the country, eventually reaching Number Six on the Hot 100. Their third single, "Weak," was even bigger. It hit Number One on the Hot 100 in July of 1993, knocking off Janet Jacket's "That's the Way Loves Goes."

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Success like this should have propelled SWV into superstardom, but a series of baffling decisions by RCA and manager Maureen Singleton, who worked with the group during their Nineties heyday, severely hurt the trio. "They weren't imaged properly," says Morgan. "They were fencing in the video for 'I'm So Into You.' Fencing! Then in the video for 'Weak,' a multi-million selling hit, they were in a boxing ring. What the hell! None of it was relatable, and it didn't even make sense."

At the same time, their competitors were making a huge impact. En Vogue were presented as glamorous models while TLC came off like the fun, sexy girls next door. Most SWV fans didn't even know the girls' names. "I kept living in my old apartment and nobody bothered me," says Taj. "Even at the height of it, nobody knew who I was if I wasn't standing next to the other girls."

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SWV's poorly defined public image suggested that the girls had virtually indistinguishable personalities, which couldn't have been farther from the truth. Lelee, the only member of the group to never marry, is boy crazy, extremely goofy and lives to party. Even today, she loves to dance on bar tops and visit the strip clubs in her new hometown of Atlanta. Taj, meanwhile, is a fiercely determined businesswoman and self-marketer who co-authored the book Player hateHER: How to Avoid the Beat Down and Live in a Drama-Free World. The Nashville mansion she shares with her husband is so massive it has it's own elevator. Coko is equally ambitious, but she has severe trust issues and, as an only child, has trouble compromising.

They were barely out of their teenage years when the group broke, and since they had absolutely no business experience they signed over power of attorney to their accountant. "When you do that, you don't see your money," says Coko. "He was paying our bills, but he didn't pay our taxes. We ended up owing a ton." 

Making matters worse, Coko and Taj started fighting like crazy, barely speaking offstage. "That happened right when we blew up," says Lelee. "It was always something with them. The industry just does something to you. I was always stuck in the middle. To be honest, I never had a great moment after we were signed. The best moments came before we got the record deal, before people knew us and we were just walking down St. Nicholas Boulevard  in Harlem singing gospel tunes. That's the only time it was fun for me."

Just when it seemed like things couldn't get worse, Coko gave Taj and Lelee and ultimatum: she wanted half the money or she was going to quit the group. "I can remember being like, 'Get the fuck out here!'" says Lelee. "I knew that was the beginning of the end." An agreement was reluctantly struck, but the move brought group relations to an all-time low. "We'd go onstage and do the best for our fans," says Coko. "But we we came offstage, nobody said anything to anybody. We'd just go our separate ways. If we had a manager with common sense, they would have sat us down and forced us to work this out. But that didn't happen."

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