Sixto Rodriguez should’ve been at least as big as Leonard Cohen and
Phil Ochs, if not quite in the same stratosphere of pop-culture
prominence as Bob Dylan—or even Donovan. Coming up in late-’60s
Detroit when that city was at its zenith of dominance in soul, rock,
and funk, this Mexican-American street poet should’ve been swept up in
the record industry’s Motor City mania. He even had Motown
rhythm-section ringers and session guitarist Dennis Coffey playing on
and producing his debut LP, the 1970 cult classic Cold Fact.
Alas, circumstances and peculiar antics—like playing with his
back to a crowd full of music-biz reps—conspired to keep
Rodriguez’s twisted troubadourisms and skewed folk rock far below mass
consciousness. After a poor-selling follow-up, 1971’s Coming from
Reality, Rodriguez bagged his music career and focused on local
politics. While thus occupied, his records found huge audiences in
South Africa, Australia, and New Zealand. People there—especially
soldiers—embraced Rodriguez’s surrealist, antiestablishment
poetry, set to the sort of raw balladry and slyly psychedelic folk that
moved Nixon-era bohos to their left-leaning cores.
Meantime, only the most obsessive collectors even knew of
Rodriguez’s oracular output. In 2002, DJ David Holmes lifted the
haunting, psych-soul ballad “Sugar Man” from Cold Fact for his
Come Get It I Got It mix. But Rodriguez’s name didn’t
disseminate widely until Seattle’s Light in the Attic Records reissued
Fact last year.
Coming from Reality (just reissued by LITA) is a lighter
record than Fact, but it contains several gems. “Climb Up on My
Music” is a striking opener, an understated psychedelic talking
blues—think Santana meets José Feliciano—that likens
his music to a conduit to freedom. “Can’t Get Away” soars blissfully
into string-laden, tropical grooviness, like a collab between Jorge Ben
and Rotary Connection. Lilting orchestral-pop nuggets like “I’ll Slip
Away,” “Cause,” and “Sandrevan Lullaby – Lifestyles” point Rodriguez in
a fruitful new direction, although a syrupiness sometimes prevails.
Sentimentality ill fits Rodriguez; he excels when spurred by bile and
injustice and backed by Coffey’s caustic, wah-wah-ed licks. Much better
is “Heikki’s Suburbia Bus Tour,” a chunky counterpart to Fact‘s
scorching “Only Good for Conversation.”
Now nearing 67, Rodriguez is taking a well-deserved victory lap
around Europe and North America. His Seattle show will feature a full
horn section and backing from San Francisco’s the Fresh & Onlys.
Rodriguez finally gets his just deserts. Fact. 
