Where were you when you heard the news about Sly Stone's June 9 death from COPD and, according to his family, "other underlying health issues"? I was on my way to a doctor's appointment, and I lied when I filled out the mental health portion of the form; actually, I was sad as hell about the loss of one of the most important musicians of the 20th century. But I doubted that was a conversation my doc wanted to have, so Slog readers are going to have to deal with these feelings.
Born in 1943, Sylvester Stewart did just about everything a body could do in the music biz. Besides writing and arranging dozens of amazing songs, singing his ass off, and playing multiple instruments with panache, he also worked as a radio DJ, produced other artists (including the sparkling Little Sister, featuring his younger sis, Vet), and ran a label. (You need Light in the Attic's comp of said label's highlights, I'm Just Like You: Sly's Stone Flower 1969-1970.) Prince Rogers Nelson was perhaps Sly's most notorious fan, and it showed. Genius compounded genius, and we will forever reap the benefits from both superstars' rich catalogs.
In the studio, Sly could do it all, and as a musician and bandleader, he excelled at myriad styles and uniting races and genders. In that golden six-album run from 1967's A Whole New Thing to 1973's Fresh, Sly & the Family Stone proved that they were the most commercially and artistically successful American band composed of Black and white and female and male musicians. At their best, Sly & the Family Stone played highest uncommon numerator music that blended soul, funk, psych-rock, and gospel while elevating popular music to astronomical heights.
This was not proto-DEI, though; it was Sly recognizing and optimizing outsized talent no matter in which color or shape it was contained, societal and music-industry pressures be damned. It's very unlikely anyone will ever combine all of those qualities while dominating the charts and wowing critics, as the Family Stone did. Popular music doesn't work like that anymore.
While track titles such as "You Can Make It If You Try," "Everybody Is a Star," "I Want to Take You Higher," and "Stand!" reflect Stone's indomitable inspirational instincts, he also had a dark side, which bloomed most potently on the consensus 1971 classic, There's a Riot Goin' On. After the supercharged elations that marked the group's work up to 1969's Stand!, Riot hit like a harsh toke. It was the auteur's introspective, furrowed brow at the fractured state of America and his own band, which appeared only sporadically on the record. Sly played most of the instruments—including an early drum machine, Rhythm King—and enlisted ringers such as Bobby Womack, Billy Preston, and Ike Turner to help him realize his uniquely blunted vision.
The result was a masterpiece of funk/soul minimalism, tape hiss and all. "Family Affair" topped the singles chart despite a Sly vocal that sounded as if he entered the studio 30 seconds after awakening from an all-night bender. "Thank You for Talkin' to Me, Africa" is an exceptionally dank version of the smash hit "Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin)," and one could argue that it's the first dub excursion by an American. "(You Caught Me) Smilin'" and "Runnin' Away" are coquettish diversions from the murk, proof that Sly still had a glimmer of playfulness, even as his relationship with bassist Larry Graham was splintering.
Fresh concluded Sly & the Family Stone's imperial phase, and some heads consider it their peak. It followed in Riot's mutedly brilliant footsteps, but with more concision and deeper, more conventional soulfulness. While the emotional roller coaster/vocal tour de force "If You Want Me to Stay" was Fresh's big hit, "Babies Makin' Babies" is its zenith, giving birth to D'Angelo and his ilk's low-lit R&B seductions.
By 1975, Sly Stone’s fame (and his fortune and grip on reality) had plunged from the dynamic entertainer's late-’60s/early-’70s summit. Financial woes and drug abuse factored, obviously. He became disastrously unreliable and paranoid. But as his post-Fresh output proved, Sly's skills hadn’t really dwindled much. Listeners—and radio programmers—just weren’t following as closely as they should've been.
Full of phenomenally funky and oft-sampled party-starters, High On You, for example, earned its position in the Sly pantheon with other ignored, late-career efforts such as Small Talk, Back on the Right Track, and Ain’t But the One Way—all bargain-bin gold. Dig, in particular, “Crossword Puzzle,” which is as spectacular as anything from the Family Stone’s unstoppable 1968-1973 era.
The urge to simply to chit-chat chatter about all of my Sly Stone faves is strong, but we don't have all week—not while we also have to save democracy in our spare time. However, a quick word about the 1969 single "Hot Fun in the Summertime" is necessary. This will forever reign as the definitive tune about the titular subject, capturing the sun-dazed bliss and rollicking, carefree joy of being out of school and/or on vacation. Its luscious escapism is more necessary now than ever. Okay, back to fighting the fascists...
In a 2014 interview I conducted with I'm Just Like You liner-notes writer Alec Palao, he refuted the common misconception that Sly had pulled a Syd Barrett and gone creatively bankrupt after the Family Stone fell out of popularity. "Despite having lived in a kind of alternate universe since the late 1970s, Sly Stone is as funny, personable and sharp as he always has been. He could easily host his own talk show and is always quick with an aphorism or a studied observation. Despite being a recluse, he is still very aware of what is going on in the world... He also remains very active making music and continually creative."
Few musical legends plummeted as precipitously as Mr. Stone did, but he lived longer than most thought he would—long enough to write a memoir (Thank You [Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin]), to view Questlove's documentary (Sly Lives!), and to receive unjustly withheld royalties. Ultimately, Sly Stone will be remembered by posterity for a surfeit of songs bursting with sensual and cerebral pleasures, their messages of unity and love resonating like klieg-lit, mountaintop sermons that make everyone feel like a star.
