Anniversaries: Nathan Michael Shawn Wanya by Boyz II Men
It’s the sound of Boyz II Men sticking to what they do best, harmonizing about love in a world starting to forget love songs—and that’s a legacy worth singing about.
Nearly a decade after Cooleyhighharmony introduced their church-hewn vocals and matching sweater vests, Boyz II Men released an album titled only with their first names. Nathan Michael Shawn Wanya was more than a title—it was a statement of identity and intent. With two decades of hindsight, this self-produced, self-written project reads as a mature pivot—an “adult” album that keeps the group’s lush harmonies and romantic instincts while stepping into a new R&B landscape. It didn’t spawn chart-toppers to rival “End of the Road” or “I’ll Make Love to You,” but Nathan Michael Shawn Wanya has aged into a soulful time capsule—one that highlights the quartet’s seasoned artistry and a transitional moment for R&B at the turn of the 21st century.
By 2000, the musical climate that once lifted Boyz II Men to record-breaking heights had shifted. R&B’s center of gravity leaned toward edgier, hip-hop-driven sounds and neo-soul earthiness, while teen pop dominated the charts. The group—often tagged “squeaky clean” next to contemporaries like Jodeci or Mary J. Blige—suddenly felt out of place. Evolution (1997) sold double-platinum, strong for most acts, yet a comedown from the diamond-certified II. Behind the scenes, they wrestled with health setbacks, near breakups, and label turmoil—a feud with Motown and a move to Universal. In that context, Nathan Michael Shawn Wanya worked as a creative reset and a declaration of independence. Unlike earlier releases that leaned on powerhouse songwriters such as Babyface or Jimmy Jam & Terry Lewis, this was the first time the group took primary responsibility for writing and producing nearly every track. They staked their legacy on their own talents and chemistry, aiming for cohesion and maturity rather than chasing trends.
With their fourth release, Nathan Michael Shawn Wanya sounds like the work of four men intent on preserving the classic Boyz II Men formula—rich four-part harmonies, courtly love themes, and silky a cappella interludes—even as they update it. The opener, “Beautiful Women,” signals measured experimentation. Over a breezy Latin-inflected groove, the group celebrates women of all backgrounds, layering voices over a swaying melody. The timing matched the late-‘90s Latin pop wave, yet the approach stays characteristically smooth and romantic. It’s a far cry from the new jack swing of Motownphilly—instead of hard edges, “Beautiful Women” rides a light samba beat as the men offer earnest compliments. That gentle incorporation of contemporary influences recurs throughout the album. “Good Guy,” produced by She’kspere (of TLC’s “No Scrubs”), flips the era’s “male-bashing” trope from the other side. Shawn, Wanyá, Nate, and Mike harmonize from the underappreciated nice-guy perspective, wondering why women prefer “a thug guy that won’t act right” while leaning on the gentleman they’ve relegated to the friend zone. “It doesn’t pay to be the good guy,” the chorus sighs. Even as the track leans conversational and hip-hop-savvy, their sincerity holds—no cynicism, just puzzled tenderness for the “babygirl” who can’t see a real man’s worth.
With II being the blockbuster that defined the group’s blend of swooning balladry and polished R&B, Nathan Michael Shawn Wanya reads as the understated, mature cousin. The harmonies stay lush, but they serve groove and story rather than exploding into vocal fireworks. Nowhere is that clearer than on the ballads, which favor warmth over melisma. “Pass You By”—written and produced solely by Shawn Stockman—is a classic slow jam on the surface: acoustic filigrees, a gentle beat, and harmonies urging a loved one not to let real love slip. The vocals are restrained. Instead of Nathan’s booming baritone or Wanyá’s sky-high riffs taking over, the quartet opts for a unified blend. The song builds to a heartfelt climax without anyone oversinging; it’s collective soul over individual showboating. It even earned a Grammy nomination for Best R&B Group Performance, yet commercially it remained a quiet storm. Heard now, “Pass You By” feels timeless in its simplicity—a tender plea from voices with nothing left to prove. The same goes for “I Do,” a sumptuous, wedding-ready ballad with doo-wop sentiment. Penned by Mervyn Warren, it stacks Motown-esque patterns, cascading backgrounds, and a spoken-style breakdown that mirrors classic pledges of devotion. It could sit next to “Yesterday” or “For Mama” without friction.
Other ballads still reward rediscovery. The Shep Crawford–penned “Thank You in Advance” is a highlight. Built on gentle piano and a pleading melody, it hinges on a neat conceit. A man meets a woman and thanks her in advance for the moments he imagines they’ll share—from holding hands to meeting her parents. In lesser hands, it could read saccharine; here, the group sells it with wide-eyed earnestness and control. Leads trade fluidly, ad-libs stay measured, and the romantic message sits at the center. Two more deep cuts, “Never Go Away” and “Lovely,” radiate the same warmth. The former, written by Stockman, promises unwavering love over cascading harmonies; the latter is a slow-burning, quiet-storm number that luxuriates in their blend for more than five minutes. Neither became canon for casual listeners, but both prove the point, as adults, they leaned on blend, placement, and phrasing rather than pyrotechnics.
The album doesn’t lack uptempo vigor—it delivers it with a refined touch. Boyz II Men have always enjoyed a bop—think the new jack swing of “Motownphilly” and the hip-hop remix of “Vibin’”—and here they still get bodies moving, just in grown-and-sexy fashion. “Step On Up” is a slinky mid-tempo that the group crafted themselves, built on a steady groove that invites a two-step. It’s an invitation to intimacy and confidence, with a nod to stepping tradition in its title and feel. “Bounce, Shake, Move, Swing” is the most overt play for the club: snapping snares, a rubbery bassline, and harmonies delivered with a throwback enthusiasm that hints at the Gap Band. They inch closer to the contemporary sound of the day—adjacent to Jagged Edge or 112—without abandoning identity; the vocals stay smoothly layered even as the beat begs for a dance. Cue it at a 2000s throwback party and it still works.
Some of the most compelling uptempos blend their harmonies with contemporary production in the service of story. We’ve touched on “Good Guy” and its tongue-in-cheek lament of nice guys finishing last. The percolating bounce, record-scratch accents, and playful arrangement make the message go down easy—you nod along to “tell me why, tell me why” even as the scenario stings. “What the Deal” flirts with a funkier, keyboard-driven sound. And “Dreams”—a die-hard favorite—rides a bright mid-tempo and encourages holding onto aspirations and love. Throughout these cuts, the vocals stay polished and deliberately understated. They don’t shout over the tracks; they glide within them. That restraint trades bombastic climaxes for consistency. Cohesion becomes a strength: by writing and arranging most of the set themselves, the quartet maintains a throughline of smoothness even as they hop from Latin pop to funk to classic soul. Nathan Michael Shawn Wanya plays like artists confident in their roots and curious about new directions—trying on styles without an outside producer dictating terms. It may not always reach the ecstatic peaks of their ‘90s work, but it never loses their essence.
Ultimately, Nathan Michael Shawn Wanya sits at an inflection point for the group and for early-2000s R&B. Commercially, it marked the end of their imperial run—the album went Gold in the U.S., well short of their multi-platinum past, and its singles barely grazed national charts (“Pass You By” underperformed; “Thank You in Advance” peaked at #80). Teen pop and rougher, hip-hop-leaning R&B dominated radio, and the group’s classy, adult approach read out of step. Labeling the album a career killer misses the nuance. Rather than chase trends or cling to old formulas, they made a record that reflected who they were becoming as men and as a unit. They often stress authenticity and Philly roots in interviews; this record matches that stance. In hindsight, it’s a bridge between their ‘90s chart reign and their 2000s life as self-directed keepers of the flame. After this, they tried one more mainstream push with Full Circle (2002) on Arista before leaning into standards, nostalgia sets, and residencies. Nathan Michael Shawn Wanya is the last time the classic quartet sounded like classic Boyz II Men on an album of new material—filled with hidden gems and a core sound front to back. In a landscape where many veterans scrambled to adapt, it reads as a dignified effort—richly listenable and faithful to who they were.
As Boyz II Men grew into elder statesmen—impeccably turned out and devoted to the craft of singing—the album bearing their given names grew into its mature skin. Live instrumentation and classic R&B sensibilities spare it the dated sheen that mars some turn-of-the-century records. The harmonies remain lush; the ballads still glow. Turn up “Never Go Away” or “Thank You in Advance,” and the earnestness lands—especially in a moment when earnest R&B is circling back. The restraint that once read as lower energy now feels appropriate and classy. These are seasoned voices singing to a mature audience, favoring interpretation and blend over acrobatics. The record also remains a transitional piece. It didn’t launch a second creative boom or restore radio dominance; instead, it captures a group at a crossroads, navigating industry change and personal growth. There’s a bittersweet note knowing it was one of their last projects as a quartet—bassist Michael McCary would depart a few years later—and effectively the coda to their chart-topping era. A few attempts to sound current—a dash of slang here, a trendy beat there—timestamp it. Far more often, the songs clear that hurdle.
The album invites a reassessment without the weight of old expectations. With two decades of distance, we can take Nathan Michael Shawn Wanya for what it is—four young Black men, once boys and now grown, pouring heart into songs they wrote and produced themselves, keeping soul at the center while everything around them shifted. It’s evolution, not as a makeover, but as maturity. Listen closely and you hear the transition from boyz to men—adulthood carried with sophistication, romance, and restraint. It may remain a footnote in the flashier history of turn-of-the-century R&B, but for those who return to it, Nathan Michael Shawn Wanya is a quietly impactful work. It’s the sound of Boyz II Men sticking to what they do best, harmonizing about love in a world starting to forget love songs—and that’s a legacy worth singing about.