A dream dies, a career burns away
By the early ’70s, Stone himself was beginning a descent from which he never recovered, driven by the pressures of fame and the added burden of Black fame. His record company was anxious for more hits, while the Black Panthers were pressing him to drop the white members from his group. After moving from the Bay Area to Los Angeles in 1970, he became increasingly hooked on cocaine and erratic in his behavior. A promised album, “The Incredible and Unpredictable Sly and the Family Stone” (“The most optimistic of all,” Rolling Stone reported) never appeared. He became notorious for being late to concerts or not showing up at all, often leaving “other band members waiting backstage for hours wondering whether he was going to show up or not,” according to Stone biographer Joel Selvin.
Around the country, separatism and paranoia were setting in. As a turn of the calendar, and as a state of mind, the ’60s were over. “The possibility of possibility was leaking out,” Stone later explained in his memoir.
On “Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin),” Stone had warned: “Dying young is hard to take/selling out is harder.” Late in 1971, he released “There’s a Riot Going On,” one of the grimmest, most uncompromising records ever to top the album charts. The sound was dense and murky (Sly was among the first musicians to use drum machines), the mood reflective (“Family Affair”), fearful (“Runnin’ Away”) and despairing: “Time, they say, is the answer — but I don’t believe it,” Sly sings on “Time.” The fast, funky pace of the original “Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin)” was slowed, stretched and retitled “Thank You For Talkin’ to Me, Africa.”
The running time of the title track was 0:00.
“It is Muzak with its finger on the trigger,” critic Greil Marcus called the album.
“Riot” highlighted an extraordinary run of blunt, hard-hitting records by Black artists, from the Stevie Wonder single “Superstition” to Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On” album, to which “Riot” was an unofficial response. But Stone seemed to back away from the nightmare he had related. He was reluctant to perform material from “Riot” in concert and softened the mood on the acclaimed 1973 album “Fresh,” which did feature a cover of “Que Sera Sera,” the wistful Doris Day song reworked into a rueful testament to fate’s upper hand.
By the end of the decade, Sly and the Family Stone had broken up and Sly was releasing solo records with such unmet promises as “Heard You Missed Me, Well I’m Back” and “Back On the Right Track.” Most of the news he made over the following decades was of drug busts, financial troubles and mishaps on stage. Sly and the Family Stone was inducted into the Rock & Roll of Fame in 1993 and honored in 2006 at the Grammy Awards, but Sly released just one album after the early ’80s, “I’m Back! Family & Friends,” much of it updated recordings of his old hits.
He would allege he had hundreds of unreleased songs and did collaborate on occasion with Clinton, who would recall how Stone “could just be sitting there doing nothing and then open his eyes and shock you with a lyric so brilliant that it was obvious no one had ever thought of it before.”
Sly Stone had three children, including a daughter with Cynthia Robinson, and was married once — briefly and very publicly. In 1974, he and actor Kathy Silva wed on stage at Madison Square Garden, an event that inspired an 11,000-word story in The New Yorker. Sly and Silva soon divorced.
A born musician, a born uniter
He was born Sylvester Stewart in Denton, Texas, and raised in Vallejo, California, the second of five children in a close, religious family. Sylvester became “Sly” by accident, when a teacher mistakenly spelled his name “Slyvester.”
He loved performing so much that his mother alleged he would cry if the congregation in church didn’t respond when he sang before it. He was so gifted and ambitious that by age 4 he had sung on stage at a Sam Cooke show and by age 11 had mastered several instruments and recorded a gospel song with his siblings. He was so committed to the races working together that in his teens and early 20s he was playing in local bands that included Black and white members and was becoming known around the Bay Area as a deejay equally willing to play the Beatles and rhythm and blues acts.
Through his radio connections, he produced some of the top San Francisco bands, including the Great Society, Grace Slick’s group before she joined the Jefferson Airplane. Along with an early mentor and champion, San Francisco deejay Tom “Big Daddy” Donahue, he worked on rhythm and blues hits (Bobby Freeman’s “C’mon and Swim”) and the Beau Brummels’ Beatle-esque “Laugh, Laugh.” Meanwhile, he was putting together his own group, recruiting family members and local musicians and settling on the name Sly and the Family Stone.
“A Whole New Thing” came out in 1967, soon followed by the single “Dance to the Music,” in which each member was granted a moment of introduction as the song rightly proclaimed a “brand new beat.” In December 1968, the group appeared on “The Ed Sullivan Show” and performed a medley that included “Dance to the Music” and “Everyday People.” Before the set began, Sly turned to the audience and recited a brief passage from his song “Are You Ready”:
“Don’t hate the Black,
don’t hate the white,
if you get bitten,
just hate the bite.”