Thursday, June 12, 2025

The American Fascist Regime Led by Gangster Scumbag-in-Chief Donald Trump, MAGA, and the GOP is Attacking the City of Los Angeles Aided and Abetted by the National Guard, the LAPD, and U.S. Marines Deployed by the Pentagon--PART 2

DEFEAT FASCISM BEFORE FASCISM DEFEATS YOU
 


'Weakness masquerading as strength': Hear Newsom's blistering speech on Trump as LA protests persist



CNN

June 10, 2025

#CNN #News
 
California Gov. Gavin Newsom said President Donald Trump “chose theatrics over public safety” in deploying the National Guard to respond to protests in Los Angeles. He criticized the Trump administration for carrying out mass deportations. When immigration raids took place in Los Angeles, “everyday Angelenos came out to exercise their constitutional right to free speech and assembly, to protest their government’s action,” Newsom said.
 
VIDEO: 
Joy Reid Blasts Mainstream Media for ‘Selling a Lie’ About L.A.

SMOKE AND MIRRORS
 
“The lies the regime is telling about Los Angeles are easy to disprove,” the former MSNBC host said.


by Eboni Boykin-Patterson 
June 11, 2025
Daily Beast



Arturo Holmes/Getty

Ex-MSNBC host Joy Reid is accusing the “mainstream media” of “helping” Donald Trump spread his narrative about what’s happening in Los Angeles during the protests against his ICE raids.

Not too long after losing her coveted primetime spot on MSNBC in February, Reid wrote in her “A Daily Reid” Substack newsletter on Wednesday that “the mainstream media at this point, is participating in selling a lie: that Los Angeles is so out of control, it’s plausible that Trump would send in the military as an occupying stabilizing force.”

 
Mayor Karen Bass issued a curfew in parts of downtown Los Angeles following days of protests in the city. prolonged protests. Benjamin Hanson/Middle East Images/AFP via Getty Images

The new podcast host said she and members of her “Joy Reid Show” staff have been in L.A. since last Thursday, where she’s gotten a different picture of the city than what’s been portrayed. “The lies the regime is telling about Los Angeles are easy to disprove. You just have to go to Los Angeles,” she wrote. “Starting on Thursday, we were all over the city—from West Hollywood to downtown, including city hall.”

All the former TV host and her team saw on the ground in L.A. was ICE “terrorizing randomly selected brown people all over the state and making racial profiling great again,” she wrote, in order to meet “MAGA Nosferatu’s 3,000 brown person a day kidnap quota.”

 
Los Angeles has seen protests throughout the weekend following federal raids searching for illegal immigrants and increased tension after President Trump ordered the National Guard to L.A., over the objections of California Governor Gavin Newsom. (Photo by Jay L Clendenin/Getty Images) Jay L Clendenin/Getty Images

On Sunday, “our photographer ventured into the belly of the downtown protests that followed day three of random, military-style ICE raids that took place all over Los Angeles County,” she wrote of the “warlike operation” that made stops at unassuming places one normally wouldn’t hope to find the violent criminals Trump said his raids would prioritize.

The president deployed about 4,000 National Guard troops and 700 active-duty Marines to quell protests against the expansive ICE raids in the city over the weekend, even though mayor Karen Bass and California Governor Gavin Newsom insisted they were under control until the armed forces incited violence. Those reports have not deterred the president from escalating the White House’s response to demonstrators, who he’s called “animals” and a “foreign enemy.”

 
A protestor holds up a Mexican flag as burning cars line the street on June 8, 2025 in Los Angeles, California. Mario Tama/Getty Images

“Trump, Bondi, Hegseth,” and “the puppy killer” Kristi Noem “have created a fake, dystopian version of Los Angeles as a cheap excuse to launch a military occupation of California,” Reid went on, and are now threatening to “use the Insurrection Act to put the whole country under martial law.”

Helping his cause is “dramatic media coverage,” Reid wrote, linking subscribers to CNN’s dystopyian reports from on the ground. “Mainstream journalists are even going so far as to casually inquire about the insurrection act,” she continued, “which gives Pam Bondi the chance to do her Leni Riefenstahl act” in her comments to press Wednesday morning.

Reid also quoted from Mayor Bass’ comments to local outlet NBC4 on Tuesday, that “those of us in Los Angeles understand that the unrest that has happened are a few blocks within the downtown area. It is not all of downtown, and it is not all of the city. Unfortunately, the visuals make it seem as though our entire city is in flames, and it is not the case at all.”

L.A. is a “perfectly normal, quiet city almost everywhere,” Reid concluded—and the “the businesses Pam Bondi pretends to care about? The risk to them is not their own dish washers, cooks, clerks and construction workers. It’s the Trump regime, that keeps kidnapping their employees. Maybe they should stop doing that. If they do, and withdraw their occupation forces, L.A. and the rest of California can go on about its business.”


ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
 
Labor Leader Released on Bond After Being Swept Up in ICE’s Violent Raid of LA

SEIU California President David Huerta was arrested while protesting the Trump administration’s militarized raid of LA.

by Sharon Zhang
June 10, 2025
Truthout



SEIU California President David Huerta speaks to the media after he was released from federal court in Los Angeles on Monday, June 9, 2025. David Crane / MediaNews Group / Los Angeles Daily News via Getty Images

California union leader David Huerta has been released from federal custody after his arrest by federal immigration agents sparked an outcry from labor and other advocates across the country amid President Donald Trump’s rogue, militarized raid of Los Angeles.

Service Employees International Union (SEIU) California President David Huerta was arrested on Friday while protesting an immigration raid in LA. He was released on a $50,000 bond, and has been charged with obstructing law enforcement — a charge that could lead to a sentence of up to six years in federal prison, if he’s convicted.

Huerta’s arrest has been widely condemned by Democratic leaders, labor advocates, and immigrants’ rights groups, who say that Trump’s crackdown is a show of accelerating authoritarianism and a major erosion of free speech rights.


“David Huerta was arrested while standing up for immigrants’ rights. Today, a judge set him free after federal authorities attacked, injured, and unjustly detained him since Friday,” said SEIU President April Verrett in a statement demanding the release of everyone “unjustly detained” amid the protests.

“But this struggle is about much more than just one man,” Verrett went on. “Thousands of workers remain unjustly detained and separated from their families. At this very moment, immigrant communities are being terrorized by heavily militarized armed forces. The Trump regime calling in the National Guard is a dangerous escalation to target people who disagree with them. It is a threat to our democracy.”
 
Related Story:



Op-Ed

Immigration
LA Protests Signal Public’s Readiness to Rebel Against Anti-Immigrant Fascism

Trump’s deployment of the National Guard to crush protests against ICE’s deportation raids has only fueled the uprising.

by Chris Newman
June 9, 2025 
Truthout


Huerta was one of dozens arrested while protesting immigration authorities’ raids of numerous retail stores in LA. Federal agents have claimed that Huerta blocked access to one of these workplaces that was supposedly suspected of employing undocumented workers. A law enforcement officer had reportedly physically tried to remove Huerta from where he was protesting, the officer has said, and then pushed Huerta on the ground after the labor leader reportedly pushed back.

Chaotic video footage reportedly showing the incident shows masked immigration officers seemingly indiscriminately shoving and grabbing anyone standing near or in front of a police car attempting to enter a gate. Huerta’s head appears to have landed on a concrete curb. SEIU has said that Huerta was arrested during the raid.

Labor advocates have raised alarm about the dangerous implications of union leaders being targeted in particular.

“Be warned: attacking unions is a hallmark of fascism,” said former Secretary of Labor Robert Reich.

Democratic leaders also condemned the arrest.

In a letter written by California’s senators and Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer (New York), lawmakers expressed “grave concerns” over Huerta’s arrest.

“It is deeply troubling that a U.S. citizen, union leader, and upstanding member of the Los Angeles community continues to be detained by the federal government for exercising his rights to observe immigration enforcement,” the lawmakers wrote.

Huerta’s release on bond comes as the Trump administration is escalating its raid on LA in response to mass protests, with the administration sending another 2,000 National Guard troops and 700 U.S. Marines to the area after days of violence from law enforcement officers.

Another concerning target of the crackdowns is journalists, numerous of whom have been injured by law enforcement officers while simply reporting on the raids. According to the Committee to Protect Journalists, dozens of journalists have been assaulted or obstructed while covering the raids. At least one journalist had to receive emergency surgery after police struck him with a plastic bullet while he was clearly identified as a journalist.

In another incident, a video of an Australian journalist reporting live on air showed a police officer aiming and shooting at the reporter, striking her leg with a rubber bullet at close range.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR:


Sharon Zhang

Sharon Zhang is a news writer at Truthout covering politics, climate and labor. Before coming to Truthout, Sharon had written stories for Pacific Standard, The New Republic, and more. She has a master’s degree in environmental studies. She can be found on Twitter and Bluesky.


https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2025/jun/10/trump-violence-los-angeles


‘While a government may have the means to inflict mass violence, it is ultimately the people who hold the power. These are the lessons we need to be studying.’ Photograph: Leah Millis/Reuters


Opinion 
 
Trump administration


Trump is deliberately ratcheting up violence in Los Angeles

The president is escalating the situation to justify greater force and repression. Now he’s talking about sending ‘troops everywhere’

by Moustafa Bayoumi
10 June 2025
The Guardian


Donald Trump was on his way to Camp David for a meeting with military leaders on Sunday when he was asked by reporters about possibly invoking the Insurrection Act, allowing direct military involvement in civilian law enforcement. Demonstrations against Trump’s draconian immigration arrests had been growing in Los Angeles, and some of them had turned violent. Trump’s answer? “We’re going to have troops everywhere,” he said.

I know Trump is “a delusional narcissist and an orange-faced windbag”, to borrow the words of the Republican senator Rand Paul, and that this president governs using misdirection, evasion and (especially) exaggeration, but we should still be worried by this prospect he raises of sending “troops everywhere”.

Already, Trump and his administration have taken the unprecedented steps of calling up thousands of national guard soldiers to Los Angeles against the wishes of the California governor, of deploying a battalion of hundreds of marines to “assist” law enforcement in Los Angeles, and of seeking to ban the use of masks by protesters while defending the use of masks for Immigration and Customs Enforcement (Ice) agents. Needless to say, none of this would be happening if these times were normal.

What makes this moment abnormal is not the fact that Los Angeles witnessed days of mostly peaceful protests against massive and destructive immigration arrests. We’ve seen such protests countless times before in this country. Nor is it the fact that pockets of such protests turned violent. That too is hardly an aberration in our national history. What makes these times abnormal is the administration’s deliberate escalation of the violence, a naked attempt to ratchet up conflict to justify the imposition of greater force and repression over the American people.

The Steady State, a non-partisan coalition of more than 280 former national security professionals, has issued a warning over these events. “The use of federal military force in the absence of local or state requests, paired with contradictory mandates targeting protestors, is a hallmark of authoritarian drift,” the statement reads. “Our members – many of whom have served in fragile democracies abroad – have seen this pattern before. What begins as provocative posturing can rapidly metastasize into something far more dangerous.”

The hypocrisy of this administration is simply unbearable. If you’re an actual insurrectionist, such as those who participated in the January 6 attack on the US Capitol by destroying federal property and attacking law enforcement officers, you’ll receive a pardon or a commutation of your sentence. But if you join the protests against Ice raids in Los Angeles, you face military opposition.

Then there’s Stephen Miller. The White House deputy chief of staff unironically posts on social media that “this is a fight to save civilization” with no apparent awareness that it is this administration that is destroying our way of life, only to replace it with something far more violent and sinister.

Are we about to see Trump invoke the Insurrection Act? It’s certainly possible. On the White House lawn on Monday, Trump explicitly called the protesters in Los Angeles “insurrectionists”, perhaps preparing the rhetorical groundwork for invoking the act. And by invoking the Insurrection Act, Trump would be able to use the US military as a law enforcement entity inside the borders of the US – a danger to American liberty.

The Insurrection Act has been used about 30 times throughout American history, with the last time being in Los Angeles in 1992. Then, the governor, Pete Wilson, asked the federal government for help as civil disturbances grew after the acquittal of four white police officers who brutally beat Rodney King, a Black man, during a traffic arrest. The only time a president has invoked the Insurrection Act against a governor’s wishes has been when Lyndon Johnson sent troops to Alabama in 1965. But Johnson used the troops to protect civil rights protesters. Now, Trump may use the same act to punish immigration rights protesters.

One part of the Insurrection Act allows the president to send troops to suppress “any insurrection, domestic violence, unlawful combination, or conspiracy” in a state that “opposes or obstructs the execution of the laws of the United States or impedes the course of justice under those laws”. According to Joseph Nunn at the Brennan Center, “[t]his provision is so bafflingly broad that it cannot possibly mean what it says, or else it authorizes the president to use the military against any two people conspiring to break federal law”.

No doubt, Trump finds that provision to be enticing. What we’re discovering during this administration is how much of American law is written with so little precision. Custom and the belief in the separation of powers have traditionally reigned in the practice of the executive branch. Not so with Trump, who is dead set on grabbing as much power as quickly as possible, and all for himself as the leader of the executive branch. To think that this power grab won’t include exercising his control of the military by deploying “troops everywhere”, whether now or at another point in the future, is naive.

Such a form of governance, with power concentrated in an individual, is certainly a form of tyranny. But tyranny, as Hannah Arendt reminds us in On Violence, is also “the most violent and least powerful of forms of government”. And while a government may have the means to inflict mass violence, it is ultimately the people who hold the power. These are the lessons we need to be studying, and implementing on our streets everywhere, while we still can.
 
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: 

Moustafa Bayoumi is a Guardian US columnist




The Musical/Lyrical/Sui Generis Genius And Magnificent Poet Known As Sly Stone (1943-2025)


“ ... Negro music is essentially the expression of an attitude, or a collection of attitudes, about the world, and only secondarily an attitude about the way music is made...Usually the critic's commitment was first to his appreciation of the music rather than to his understanding of the attitude that produced it. This difference meant that the potential critic of Jazz had only to appreciate the music, or what he thought was the music, and that he did not need to understand or even be concerned with the attitudes which produced it...The major flaw in this approach to Negro music is that it strips the music too ingenuously of its social and cultural intent. It seeks to define Jazz as an art (or a folk art) that has come out of no intelligent body of socio-cultural philosophy...”
--Leroi Jones (aka Amiri Baraka), "Jazz and the White Critic," Downbeat magazine, 1963; later reprinted in his book of critical essays and reviews Black Music (William Morrow & Co. 1968) 

Sly and the Family Stone - There's a Riot Goin' On: 


Side one 1.Luv N' Haight - 4:01 2.Just Like a Baby - 5:12 3.Poet - 3:01 4.Family Affair - 3:06 5.Africa Talks to You 'The Asphalt Jungle' - 8:45 6.There's a Riot Goin' On (timed at 0:04 on compact disc) - 0:00 

Side two 7.Brave & Strong - 3:28 8.(You Caught Me) Smilin' - 2:53 9.Time - 3:03 10.Spaced Cowboy - 3:57 11.Runnin' Away - 2:51 12.Thank You for Talkin' to Me Africa - 7:14 


EPIC record label release November, 1971 

Sly & The Family Stone - Fresh (1973) Part 1 (Full Album):

  

Track List: 1-4

In Time (0:00) 2. Sly & The Family Stone - If You Want Me To Stay (5:48) 3. Sly & The Family Stone - Let Me Have It All (8:50) 4. Sly & The Family Stone - Frisky (11:46) 

Sly & The Family Stone - Fresh (1973) Part 2 (Full Album):

Track List: 5-8 

5. Sly & The Family Stone - Thankful N' Thoughtful (0:00) 6. Sly & The Family Stone - Skin I'm In (4:41) 7. Sly & The Family Stone - I Don't Know (Satisfaction) (7:37) 8. Sly & The Family Stone - Keep On Dancin' (11:29) 

SLY AND THE FAMILY STONE BAND: 

Sly Stone – vocals, organ, guitar, bass guitar, piano, harmonica, and more 

Freddie Stone – vocals, guitar 

Rose Stone – vocals, piano, keyboard 

Cynthia Robinson – trumpet 

Jerry Martini – saxophone 

Pat Rizzo – saxophone 

Rusty Allen – bass guitar on "In Time", "Let Me Have it All", and "Keep on Dancin'" 

Larry Graham – bass guitar on "Que Sera, Sera (Whatever Will Be, Will Be)" and "If It Were Left Up to Me" (uncredited) 

Andy Newmark – drums 

Little Sister (Vet Stone, Mary McCreary, Elva Mouton) – vocals  

Sly & The Family Stone - Fresh (1973) Part 3 (Full Album):

 

Track List: 9-11 9. Sly & The Family Stone - Que Sera, Sera (Whatever Will Be, Will Be) (0:00) 10. Sly & The Family Stone - If It Were Left Up To Me (5:23) 11. Sly & The Family Stone - Babies Makin' Babies (7:24) 

EPIC Record label release: June 1973

https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-features/sly-stone-sly-and-the-family-stone-tribute-1235361170/

TRIBUTE 

Sly Stone Believed Everybody Is a Star: The Massive Legacy of an Avant-Funk Revolutionary

He combined rock, soul, and funk in inspirational anthems, while also channeling a streetwise sense of betrayal and rage

June 10, 2025 
Rolling Stone

 

Sly Stone of Sly and the Family Stone on the Warner Bros. lot in L.A. circa 1970. Michael Ochs Archives/Getty Images

Thank you for the party, but Sly could never stay. Sly Stone was always the ultimate mystery man of American music, a visionary genius who transformed the world with some of the most innovative sounds of the Sixties and Seventies. With Sly and the Family Stone, he fused funk, soul, and acid rock into his own utopian sound, in hits like “Family Affair” and “Everyday People.” Yet he remained an elusive figure, all but disappearing in the 1970s. When he died on Monday, it seemed strange he was “only” 82, because he seemed even older — as if he’d outlived himself by decades. Yet his music sounds as boldly futuristic and influential as ever, which is why the world is still reeling from this loss.

Nobody ever sounded like this man. Sly could write inspirational songs of unity, anthems like “I Want to Take You Higher” that would turn a live crowd into a euphoric tribe, or uplifting hits like “Stand!” or “Everybody Is a Star” that can catch you in a lonely moment and make you feel like the rest of your life is a chance to live up to the song’s challenge.

But that went side by side with his streetwise sense of betrayal and rage. “Everybody Is a Star” comes on like a love song to human hope, so radiant in every tiny sonic detail, with Sly chanting, “Shine, shine, shine!” But it’s also got the weird question, “Ever catch a falling star? Ain’t no stopping till it’s in the ground.” Sly Stone wanted to remind you that you were the star of hope in the sky — but you could also be the star that comes crashing down into a crater.

All his contradictions come together in his greatest song, the 1970 funk blast “Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin),” with the hardest bass-versus-guitar staccato slash attack on Earth. The chorus sounds cheerful on the surface: “Thank you for letting me be myself again!” But the closer you listen, the more dread and anger you hear. For Sly, with all of his fame and fortune, this is what it all comes down to: Lookin’ at the devil. Grinnin’ at his gun. Fingers start a-shakin’. I begin to run. It’s a death haiku that’s all the scarier for being delivered as a party chant. Bullets start a-chasin’. I begin to stop. We began to wrestle. I was on the top. The groove keeps churning, but with no resolution. There’s no victory in Sly’s battle with the devil — just the temporary triumph of not being defeated, at least not yet.

The Family Stone was his ideal of a band as a self-contained community, uniting musicians of different races, different genders, some friends, some relatives — but with everyone lending a voice. His Family Stone built the template for countless music collectives, whether it was the Native Tongues, Prince’s Revolution, Afrika Bambaata’s Zulu Nation, the Wu-Tang Clan, OutKast and the Dungeon Family, or beyond.

“The concept behind Sly and the Stone,” he told Rolling Stone in 1970, “I wanted to be able for everyone to get a chance to sweat. By that I mean … if there was anything to be happy about, then everybody’d be happy about it. If there was a lot of money to be made, for anyone to make a lot of money. If there were a lot of songs to sing, then everybody got to sing. That’s the way it is now. Then, if we have something to suffer or a cross to bear — we bear it together.”

Some of the Family were virtuoso singers, others just filling in for a line or two at a time, but there was always that utopian tribal spirit. His band was a visionary blend of James Brown/Stax/Muscle Shoals funk teamwork, but with the anarchic jamming of the hippie bands from the San Francisco acid-rock scene where he made his first converts. As Sly put it in the title of their debut album, it was A Whole New Thing — a radically democratic sound where everybody was a star.

Sly’s tough charisma made him a unique presence in Seventies pop culture — remote, cool, unknowable, hiding behind a smile that gleamed like bulletproof glass. You could always see him show up in places like the sitcom Good Times, set in a Chicago housing project, where the cool teenager Thelma had posters of Sly and Stevie Wonder on her bedroom wall, almost like good-angel/bad-angel twins. There was a comedian on BET who used to do a hilarious routine about growing up in the Seventies and watching Soul Train. “When I was a kid, I didn’t know what drugs were. I just knew there was something wrong with Sly.”

Those contradictions were always built into his music. “If It Were Left Up to Me” is one of his funniest, nastiest gems ever, a Fresh funk quickie from 1973, where the singers chant sardonic promises full of sleight-of-hand wordplay, until it ends with a sarcastic, “Cha-cha-cha!” There’s “Que Sera Sera,” also from 1973, refurbishing an old Doris Day chestnut about how everything always works out for the best, except that Sly turns it into a slow-motion dirge full of dread, a warning that fate is out to get you. “Que Sera Sera” took on a new life in 1989 as the perfect closing theme for Heathers, as Winona Ryder struts through her high school, covered in soot and ashes. When Shannen Doherty gasps, “You look like hell,” Winona smirks, “I just got back.” A very Sly line — so it’s fitting that Heathers made “Que Sera Sera” the closest he got to a comeback hit in the Eighties or Nineties.

Sly Stone was born in Texas, but raised in the blue-collar Bay Area town of Vallejo. He was just five years old when he cut his first record with his family gospel group, the Stewart Four. But he was already a musical prodigy, mastering piano, guitar, bass, and drums. Barely out of his teens, he became a radio DJ on KSOL (“Super Soul”), where he honed his eclectic musical tastes. “I played Dylan, Lord Buckley, the Beatles. Every night I tried something else,” he said in 1970. “I really didn’t know what was going on. Everything was just on instinct. You know, if there was an Ex-Lax commercial, I’d play the sound of a toilet flushing. It would’ve been boring otherwise.”

But he got bored with the strictures of genre formatting. “In radio,” he said, “I found out about a lot of things I don’t like. Like, I think there shouldn’t be ‘Black radio.’ Just radio. Everybody be a part of everything.”

He became a house producer at the local label Autumn Records, producing Bobby Freeman’s huge 1964 dance hit “C’Mon and Swim.” But he also worked with the wildly innovative folk rock of the Beau Brummels — he helmed their 1965 classics like “Don’t Talk to Strangers,” “You Tell Me Why,” and “Not Too Long Ago” with the melancholy tinge he would bring to his own band. He also produced one of the Bay Area’s first hippie bands, Grace Slick’s pre-Jefferson Airplane group, the Great Society. For their classic debut single — “Free Advice” on one side, the original “Somebody to Love” on the other — he famously drove the band through 286 takes.

But one of his most crucial learning experiences at Autumn was watching everybody get ripped off. It was his first time getting burned in the music business, and he made sure it would be the last. He never again got involved with projects he didn’t control. So he began putting together his own band, inspired by the local free-form rock scene happening at places like the Family Dog and the Fillmore. “The concept was to be able to conceive all kinds of music,” he said in 1970. “Whatever was contemporary, and not necessarily in terms of being commercial — whatever meant whatever now. Like today, things like censorship, and the Black-people/white-people thing. That’s on my mind. So we just like to perform the things that are on our mind.”

Once the world heard “Dance to the Music,” nobody could resist, as the hits kept coming: “Everyday People,” “M’Lady,” “Stand!,” “Hot Fun in the Summertime.” The Family stole the show at Woodstock, turning “I Want to Take You Higher” into a massive hippie chant. People always wanted more-more-more from Sly, based on the utopian promises of his songs.

But he became the first major star who made an artistic flourish out of pulling back, whether it was going onstage late — he made that one of his trademarks — or simply blowing off shows. He made a point of being combative in interviews. That also meant long delays between records — after Stand!, he kept everyone waiting an unimaginable 18 months for new music, forcing his record company to drop the utterly perfect Greatest Hits. (The delay also gave Motown time to whip up the perfect Sly and the Family Stone substitute: the Jackson 5, who filled the gap with their doppelganger hits like “I Want You Back” and “The Love You Save.”)

After the wait, he stunned everyone with There’s a Riot Goin’ On, his radically negative refusal to play the commercial game, with its low-fi beatbox avant-funk. It was the prototype for independent swerves like Radiohead’s Kid A or Nirvana’s In Utero — yet like those albums, it was a sales blockbuster, hitting home with an audience that idolized him for going his own way. “Family Affair” is the best-known classic, with Bobby Womack’s virtuoso blues guitar, in a heartbreaking tale of newlyweds falling apart. But it also has stunners like “Spaced Cowboy,” sounding uncannily like Young Marble Giants with its basement drum-machine clank, before it builds into a cocky drug boast with ironic Wild West yodels. “I can’t say it more than once, because I’m thinkin’ twice as fast,” Sly growls. “Yodel-ay-hee, yay-hee-hoo!”

But the toughest, bleakest moment is “Africa Talks to You (The Asphalt Jungle),” where the chorus chants, “Timberrrrr! All fall down!” “I wrote a song about Africa because in Africa the animals are animals,” he told Rolling Stone at the time. “The tiger is a tiger, the snake is a snake, you know what the hell he’s gonna do. Here in New York, the asphalt jungle, a tiger or a snake may come up looking like, uhhh, you.”



He switched gears with Fresh in 1973 — his most exuberantly upbeat funk, jumping right out with “In Time.” It’s as flamboyantly cheerful as Riot was hostile, which isn’t to say it’s any less brash in its confrontational spirit. “Let Me Have It All” is the most openhearted love song he ever did, rhythmically and vocally. Yet it’s also an album about drugged-out euphoria on the verge of crashing. “If You Want Me to Stay,” with its drowsy pimp strut of a bass line, warns you not to be foolish enough to count on him or expect anything out of him — especially if you bought a ticket for one of those shows where he didn’t turn up.

After Fresh, his music suddenly fell off a cliff, with depressing comeback efforts like Small Talk, High on You, or Heard Ya Missed Me, Well I’m Back, with its faux anthem “Family Again.” Everyone was still stealing ideas from Sly — most notably Miles Davis — but the man himself ghosted. The tabloids kept reporting the bad news: He was wasted on drugs, broke, living out of a car. His final albums barely got noticed, with smarmy titles like Back on the Right Track or Ain’t but the One Way, ending with “High, Y’All.” His final highlights came with George Clinton, his most outspoken disciple, on Funkadelic’s 1981 The Electric Spanking of War Babies. “FREE SLY!” Clinton declared in the liner notes, having recently gotten busted with Stone. Sly also shone on Clinton’s 1983 robot-funk hit “Hydraulic Pump,” from the P-Funk All-Stars’ album Urban Dance-Floor Guerillas. “Hydraulic Pump” was a prophecy of the Detroit techno to come, but it also turned out to be Sly’s final moment of glory on wax.

When Stone died on June 9, it was just a few days after the 51st anniversary of his most famous celebrity stunt: getting married onstage at Madison Square Garden, in a sold-out 1974 show. In so many ways, that wedding event was his farewell to his public life, as he became a reclusive figure for his final decades. “Dying young is hard to take, selling out is harder,” he warned in “Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin),” still just in his 20s. The ultimate epitaph for Sly is that he managed to avoid doing either.

Yet the world never came close to forgetting about Sly Stone. The excellent Questlove documentary Sly Lives! (The Burden of Black Genius) was a reminder of why he still loomed so large, years after he’d seemingly said his goodbyes. You can hear that legacy everywhere, even in young punk rockers like Turnstile, who turned “Thank You” into their own “T.L.C. (Turnstile Love Connection).” “Everyday People” has to be the only song that’s ever gotten covered by both Tom Jones and Joan Jett. “We gotta live together,” the song goes, even though its author made a point of living apart.

But he went out as a musical revolutionary who owed the world nothing. Every goodbye he ever had to say was already there in “Thank You”: “We began to wrestle, I was on the top.” Sly Stone defined that sense of lifelong struggle in his music. But he managed to turn that struggle into songs that will keep right on changing and challenging the world forever. The message in the music is clear as always — everybody is a star.

Tuesday, June 10, 2025

The American Fascist Regime Led by Arch Criminal-in-Chief Donald Trump, MAGA, and the GOP is Attacking the City of Los Angeles Aided and Abetted by the National Guard, the LAPD, and U.S. Marines Deployed by the Pentagon

L.A. Under Siege: Trump Sends in National Guard as Protests Continue over Militarized ICE Raids



Democracy Now!

June 9, 2025

VIDEO: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qZQcVPtkMdc

In Los Angeles, mass street protests have broken out in response to immigration raids. Local police and Border Patrol are cracking down on protesters, while the Trump administration has called in the California National Guard. "They shot thousands of rounds of tear gas, of flashbang grenades, of all kinds of repressive instruments," says Ron Gochez, community organizer with Union del Barrio who helped organize some of the protests. He notes many of the protests have also been successful at turning back immigration agents, preventing ICE arrests and detention. "If we organize ourselves, if we resist, we can defend our communities from ICE terror, from the Border Patrol or from any federal agency that wishes to separate our families."

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Team Zeteo

June 10, 2025



ICE officers and national guards confront with protesters in Los Angeles, California on June 8, 2025 amid protests over immigration raids. Photo by Tayfun Coskun/Anadolu via Getty Images.

On Sunday, President Donald Trump brazenly defied the Governor of California Gavin Newsom by deploying the National Guard against demonstrators in Los Angeles, as they protested against the administration’s immigration raids. Newsom has already called the deployment unlawful and a “serious breach of state sovereignty”, and has now filed a lawsuit against the Trump administration.

Viet’s novel, The Sympathizer, won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction and he is also the author of the acclaimed To Save and to Destroy. He is also a professor of English and American Studies and Ethnicity, and Comparative Literature at the University of Southern California.


Viet himself is a refugee and has spoken out against the crackdown on student protesters, the US support for Israel’s war on Gaza, and Trump’s deportation campaign.

In order to register for the town hall, you must be a paid subscriber. Click the link below to register.

In order to help viewers break down the recent immigration raids, Trump’s drastic move against protesters (which many predicted), and the California governor’s response, Zeteo will be hosting a live Town Hall Q&A, exclusively for paid subscribers on Tuesday, June 10 at 7pm BST / 2pm ET / 11am PT with Zeteo contributor, Pulitzer Prize winner, and LA resident Viet Thanh Nguyen.

Public Intellectual, Brilliant Journalist, Social Critic, Media Producer and Activist Joy Reid On What Is Really Happening in 21st Century Fascist America and What It Means Today And Has Always Meant Historically

Understanding Trump's America: A Deep Dive ft. Amber Ruffin | The Joy Reid Show



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Premiered 15 hours ago
 
 
The current political climate is marked by chaos and confusion. Trump's policies are seen as a regression to oligarchy. The historical context of America's political evolution is crucial to understanding current events. Amber Ruffin's career highlights the challenges faced by black women in comedy. The importance of comedy as a tool for resistance in autocratic regimes. The impact of immigration policies on society and the economy. The role of media in shaping public perception of political events. The significance of historical events in shaping modern America. The need for solidarity among marginalized communities. The dangers of authoritarianism and the erosion of democratic values. Diversity in comedy brings unique perspectives and enriches storytelling. Seth Meyers fosters an inclusive environment for writers. Hosting a show is a significant transition for comedians. Writing for various platforms enhances a comedian's versatility. Comedy can address serious societal issues while still being entertaining. Navigating political discourse through humor is increasingly complex. Comedians face challenges in an authoritarian climate. Art and activism are intertwined in today's world. The role of comedy is to provoke thought and discussion. Comedians must adapt to changing societal norms and expectations. IN SUMMARY: This conversation delves into the chaotic state of American politics, focusing on the tumultuous presidency of Donald Trump and the implications of his policies on democracy and society. It explores the historical context of oligarchy in America, the challenges faced by marginalized communities, and the role of comedy as a form of resistance against autocracy, featuring insights from comedian Amber Ruffin. In this engaging conversation, Amber Ruffin discusses her experiences in late night comedy, the importance of diversity in writer's rooms, and the challenges of navigating humor in a politically charged environment. She reflects on her journey from writing to hosting her own show, the role of comedy in addressing serious issues, and the impact of authoritarianism on artistic expression. The dialogue emphasizes the necessity of activism through art and the evolving landscape of comedy in today's society. 
 
VIDEO:   
 


Chapters: 
 
00:00 The State of the Nation: Chaos and Confusion  
15:09 The Rise of Oligarchy: A Historical Perspective 
30:01 Amber Ruffin: Comedy in the Age of Autocracy  
33:15 Diversity in Late Night Comedy 
35:00 The Journey to Hosting 
36:27 Writing and Storytelling in Comedy  
37:51 Navigating Comedy in a Divisive Era 
39:51 The Role of Comedy in Political Discourse 
42:55 Comedy and Authoritarianism  
47:07 Art and Activism in Troubling Times
 


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VIDEO:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=70Ute24Nl-k


 

IN TRIBUTE TO AND ETERNAL LOVE FOR SLY STONE (1943-2025)

AN OPEN LETTER TO AMERICA FROM THE LAST CENTURY

"Somebody's Watching You"
Words and Music by Sly Stone
(March 15, 1943—June 9, 2025)


Pretty, pretty, pretty as a picture
Witty, witty, witty as you can be
Blind 'cause your eyes see only glitter
Closed to the things that make you free

Ever stop to think about a downfall?
Happens at the end of every line
Just when you think you've pulled a fast one
Happens to the foolish all the time

Somebody's watching you
Somebody's watching you
Somebody's watching you
Somebody's watching you

Games are to be played with toys, et cetera
Love is to be made when you are for real
Ups and downs are caused by life in general
Some are yours no matter how you feel

Shady as a lady in a moustache
Feelings camouflaged by groans and grins
Secrets have a special way about them
Movin' to and fro among your friends

Somebody's watching you
Somebody's watching you
Somebody's watching you
Somebody's watching you

Live it up today if you want to
Live it down tomorrow afternoon
Sunday school don't make you cool forever
And neither does the silver of your spoon

The nicer the nice, the higher the price
This is what you pay for what you need
The higher the price, the nicer the nice
Jealous people like to see you bleed

Somebody's watching you
Somebody's watching you
Somebody, somebody's watching you
Somebody's watching you
Somebody's watching you

Somebody's watching you
Somebody's watching you
Somebody's watching you
Somebody's watching you…

VIDEO: 
 
 

Sly & The Family Stone 
 
“Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin)”
 

[Lyrics and Music by Sly Stone,  1969]


Lookin' at the devil

Grinnin' at his gun

Fingers start shakin'

I begin to run

Bullets start chasin'

I begin to stop

We begin to wrestle

I was on the top

I want to thank you for letting me be myself again

Thank you for letting me be myself again

Stiff all in the collar

Fluffy in the face

Chit-chat chatter tryin'

Stuffy in the place

Thank you for the party

But I could never stay

Many things on my mind

Words in the way

I want to thank you for letting me be myself again

Thank you for letting me be myself again

Dance to the music

All night long

Every day people

Sing a simple song

Mama's so happy

Mama start to cry

Papa's still singin'

You can make it if you try

I want to thank you for letting me be myself again (oh yeah)

(Different strokes for different folks, yeah)

Thank you for letting me be myself again

Flamin' eyes of people fear burnin' into you

Many men are missin' much, hatin' what they do

Youth and truth are makin' love, dig it for a starter

Dyin' young is hard to take, sellin' out is harder

Thank you for letting me be myself again

I want to thank you for letting me be myself again

Thank you for letting me be myself again

Thank you for letting me be myself again

I want to thank you for letting me be myself again

I want to thank you for letting me be myself again

I want to thank you for letting me be myself again

I want to thank you for letting me be myself again

 
 



 
Sly Stone, Maestro of a Multifaceted Hitmaking Band, Dies at 82

Leading Sly and the Family Stone, he helped redefine the landscape of pop, funk and rock in the late 1960s and early ’70s.
A black-and-white photo of Sly Stone, with a large Afro underneath a large hat, leaning against a wall and glancing to his left. 
Sly Stone in 1973. Though he eventually receded from center stage, his vibrant, intricately arranged songs left their mark on countless artists. Credit:  Michael Putland/Getty Images

Listen to this article · 15:25 minutes  
 
Learn more

by Joe Coscarelli
June 10, 2025
New York Times


Sly Stone, the influential, eccentric and preternaturally rhythmic singer, songwriter, multi-instrumentalist and producer whose run of hits in the late 1960s and early ’70s with his band the Family Stone could be dance anthems, political documents or both, died on Monday in Los Angeles. He was 82.

The cause was “a prolonged battle with C.O.P.D.,” or lung disease, “and other underlying health issues,” his representatives said in a statement.

As the colorful maestro and mastermind of a multiracial, mixed-gender band, Mr. Stone experimented with the R&B, soul and gospel music he was raised on in the San Francisco area, mixing classic ingredients of Black music with progressive funk and the burgeoning freedoms of psychedelic rock ’n’ roll.

The band’s most recognizable songs, many of which would be sampled by hip-hop artists, include “Everyday People,” “Dance to the Music,” “I Want to Take You Higher,” “Family Affair,” “Hot Fun in the Summertime” and “Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin).”

Mr. Stone and the six other members of his group sitting and standing around the brick steps in the front of a building.
Mr. Stone, second from left, with the other members of Sly and the Family Stone in 1970.Credit...GAB Archive/Redferns

Though Mr. Stone eventually receded from center stage, his vibrant, intricately arranged songs left their mark on a host of top artists, including George Clinton, Stevie Wonder, Prince, Michael Jackson, Outkast, Red Hot Chili Peppers and D’Angelo, as well as jazz musicians like Miles Davis and Herbie Hancock. As the critic Joel Selvin said, “There was Black music before Sly Stone, and Black music after Sly Stone.”

His musical legacy was fortified and refreshed in recent years, a push led by the musician and music historian Questlove, who directed the Academy Award-winning documentary “Summer of Soul,” from 2021, which included a performance by Sly and the Family Stone during a Harlem cultural festival in 1969. That film was followed in 2023 by a memoir by Mr. Stone, “Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin).” And last year, Questlove released a documentary devoted entirely to him, “Sly Lives! (aka the Burden of Black Genius).”

“He had a way of talking, moving from playful to earnest at will,” Questlove wrote of Mr. Stone in the introduction to Mr. Stone’s autobiography, which he also helped release as part of his publishing imprint. “He had a look, belts and hats and jewelry. Everybody was a star, as he said (and sang), but he was a special case, cooler than everything around him by a factor of infinity.”

From 1968 to 1971, Sly and the Family Stone released a defining string of albums — “A Whole New Thing,” “Dance to the Music,” “Life,” “Stand!” and “There’s a Riot Goin’ On” — that were celebratory but also knowing about the fragile state of the world, complicating the Summer of Love’s themes of unity and its sounds of euphoria with a street savvy that presaged the end of the party, even as the band played on.

The group stomped, grooved and shouted its way into the national consciousness in an appearance on “The Ed Sullivan Show” in 1968, performing a medley of songs that are now regarded as classics. Sly and the Family Stone soon dominated the charts and further established itself as an era-defining act with similarly jarring, joyous appearances the next year at the Newport Jazz Festival and the Woodstock festival.

An album covert featuring a montage of photos of the group, with Mr. Stone, shown singing into a hand-held microphone, the most prominent.
“Stand!” (1969), the fourth album by Sly and the Family Stone, contained the group’s first No. 1 hit, “Everyday People.” Its success helped secure the band a spot at the Woodstock festival. Credit: Epic
An album cover depicting a sheet of paper with the names of the album, the group and the songs behind an American flag with what look like bullet holes instead of stars.
“There’s a Riot Goin’ On,” released in 1971, marked a darker, more experimental progression in Mr. Stone’s music. Credit:  Epic

Mr. Stone began isolating himself in the 1970s and ’80s with drug use and increasingly unpredictable behavior, retreating to a mansion compound in Los Angeles and often missing concerts.

But he still could not help standing out, often innovating along the way. He became one of the first mainstream artists to record with a drum machine — one of his many influences on hip-hop — while becoming more flamboyant in appearance (shiny vests, alien-eye glasses) and more idiosyncratic musically. The title track on 1971’s “There’s a Riot Goin’ On” was silent, listed at zero minutes and zero seconds, because, as Mr. Stone later said, “I felt there should be no riots.”

Pharrell Williams, writing in The New York Times in 2003, said of Mr. Stone’s legacy: “He spoke to a generation and ones that followed. He challenged people’s perception of normalcy. He wore seriously fly clothes, and to this day, I have no idea how he walked around in those platforms.”

Sly and the Family Stone were inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 1993. Mr. Stone, who had by then gained a reputation as a recluse, made a surprise appearance and a brief speech, ending with a cryptic “See you soon.”

An almost unrecognizable Sly Stone playing an organ, He has an enormous blond mohawk and wears dark glasses and a silver outfit.
After an absence of more than a decade, Mr. Stone made a surprise appearance at the 2006 Grammy Awards, where he joined in during a tribute to his old band. Credit: Kevin Mazur/WireImage for the Recording Academy, via Getty Images

But it wasn’t until more than a decade later, at the 2006 Grammy Awards, that most people caught another glimpse of him. In a silver get-up, dark shades and a blond mohawk, Mr. Stone joined in during a tribute to his old band, playing a synthesizer and singing on “I Want to Take You Higher.” He departed the stage before the end of the song.

Mr. Stone performed intermittently, and often bizarrely, throughout his later years. At Coachella in 2010, he played while seated in an office chair, wearing a long blond wig “that hid most of my face, a police hat that hid the rest,” he wrote in his memoir.

“I was dressed that way because I didn’t want anyone to recognize me,” he added.

He remained an almost mystic presence in his rare public showings, frequently arriving at concerts by family members and past collaborators on a motorcycle, and only occasionally bothering to remove his helmet.

Though he was rumored to be homeless, Mr. Stone wrote in his autobiography that he lived for years in the 2000s, by choice, in a white Pleasure Way R.V., which was “everything to me: dressing room, hotel room, transportation, hide-out, office.”

In 2010, he sued his former managers, claiming that they had defrauded him of many millions. A jury eventually awarded him $5 million, but the judgment was soon reversed. “I knew how the system worked, meaning that I knew that often it didn’t work,” Mr. Stone wrote in his book.

But he was insistent that financial troubles were not responsible for his drifter lifestyle. “I like my small camper,” he told an interviewer. “I just do not want to return to a fixed home. I cannot stand being in one place. I must keep moving.”

A black-and-white photo of a young Mr. Stone sitting on a bed, with a reel-to-reel tape machine and other audio equipment in the background.
Mr. Stone in 1973, the year Sly and the Family Stone released the album ”Fresh.” Credit: Urve Kuusik, via Sony Music

Sylvester Stewart was born in Denton, Texas, on March 15, 1943, the second of Alpha and K.C. Stewart’s five children. Soon after, the family moved west to Vallejo, Calif., north of San Francisco, where Mr. Stewart worked as a cleaner and in maintenance at a department store. The couple raised their children in the Pentecostal Church, where they first became immersed in music.

In 1952, the Stewart Family Four, a vocal group consisting of Sylvester and three of his siblings, released a gospel single, “On the Battlefield,” with “Walking in Jesus’s Name” on the flip side. The record planted the seeds of the group harmonies for which the Family Stone would become known.

Even as a child, Sylvester, who sang lead, was the star. “People were hollering and wanting to touch him,” his mother recalled of the group’s early performances, when he was as young as 5. “You had to hold them back sometimes.”

It went both ways: Mr. Stone recalled his mother saying that he really came alive in front of a crowd. “If they didn’t respond, I would cry,” he wrote.

In high school, Mr. Stone — who picked up the nickname Sly thanks to a friend’s misspelling of his first name — was a hot commodity as a guitarist for local doo-wop groups. He learned new instruments with ease and moved from a Black band, the Webs, to a more successful mixed-race act, the Viscaynes, with whom he released a handful of singles and tasted his first morsels of industry buzz.

After a brief stint studying music theory, on and off, at Vallejo Junior College, Mr. Stone, by then a fledgling commodity in the flourishing Bay Area music scene, was tapped by some enterprising disc jockeys to work as a producer for their new label, Autumn Records. There, he helped write Bobby Freeman’s “C’mon and Swim,” which became a Top 10 hit in 1964 and the catalyst of a dance craze.

A black-and-white photo of a very young Mr. Stone at a radio station, talking into a microphone. He holds a cigarette in his left hand and wears his hair in a process.
Mr. Stone in 1967 at the San Francisco AM radio station KSOL. He was a popular disc jockey in the Bay Area from 1964 to 1967. Credit: via Michael Ochs Archive/Getty Images

Around the same time, Mr. Stone attended the Chris Borden School of Broadcasting in San Francisco, eventually making a name for himself as a D.J. at KSOL and KDIA, local AM stations aimed at Black listeners.

Never one to be boxed in, Mr. Stone varied his playlists with sounds of the day besides soul and R&B. “I played Dylan, Lord Buckley, the Beatles. Every night I tried something else,” he recalled in a 1970 Rolling Stone profile. “Everything was just on instinct. You know, if there was an Ex-Lax commercial, I’d play the sound of a toilet.”

On the radio, as in his musical career to come, Mr. Stone rejected racial divisions. “I found out about a lot of things I don’t like,” he said of his time on the air. “Like, I think there shouldn’t be ‘Black radio.’ Just radio. Everybody be a part of everything. I didn’t look at my job in terms of Black.”

By 1966, he was focused on his own music and was fronting a group called Sly and the Stoners. His brother Freddie was playing at the time with the white drummer Gregg Errico in Freddie & the Stone Souls. The two groups fused in 1967, becoming Sly and the Family Stone.

The act’s initial lineup featured Freddie on guitar — Sly turned his focus from guitar to organ so as not to double up — along with Larry Graham on bass and Vaetta Stewart, Sly’s younger sister, singing backup. The lineup would go on to include the trumpeter Cynthia Robinson and the saxophonist Jerry Martini, as well as the Mr. Stone’s sister Rose, who played keyboard and sang.

“We all quickly realized what Sly was doing when we looked around at each other,” Mr. Errico told Rolling Stone in 2015. “There were race riots going on at the time. Putting a musical group together with male and female and Black and white, to us, it felt really natural and cool and comfortable, but it made a statement that was definitely threatening to some people.”
An album cover with a large photo of Mr. Stone looking at much smaller images of the members of his band.
“A Whole New Thing,” released in 1967, was Sly and the Family Stone’s first album. While it came to be seen as ahead of it’s time, it was commercially unsuccessful. Credit:  Epic

The band’s debut album, “A Whole New Thing,” released in 1967 by Epic Records, was indeed ahead of its time — so much so that it did not sell well. But the follow-up, “Dance to the Music,” and its title track, which became a Top 10 single, catapulted the band beyond the psychedelic Bay Area scene, which had also given rise to contemporary acts like the Grateful Dead and Jefferson Airplane.

Sly and the Family Stone’s message always included acceptance and togetherness. “Different strokes for different folks,” the band sang on “Everyday People,” its first No. 1 record. “We got to live together.” At Woodstock, early on a Sunday morning, Mr. Stone insisted on a singalong, making sure to encourage those audience members who might have considered such a feel-good exercise “old-fashioned.”

The harmony didn’t last. As the band moved into a Beverly Hills mansion to live and record in the early 1970s, drug use turned the Family Stone dysfunctional. While the impactful songs were still there — “There’s a Riot Goin’ On” marked a darker, more experimental progression — Mr. Stone chronically missed concerts, burning bridges with promoters and industry executives, even while the band reached the heights of its popularity.

“Sometimes you don’t feel your soul at 7:30,” he told Rolling Stone after missing five straight shows in 1971.

A black-and-white photo of the wedding ceremony, seen from a slight distance.
Increasingly reliant on stunts, Mr. Stone married Kathy Silva, an actress and the mother of his first child, Sylvester Jr., onstage ahead of a concert at Madison Square Garden in 1974. The marriage did not last. Credit...PL Gould Images, via Getty Images

The uneven albums to follow, including “Fresh” in 1973 and “Small Talk” in 1974, showed more cracks in the foundation. Increasingly reliant on stunts, Mr. Stone married Kathy Silva, an actress and the mother of his first child, Sylvester Jr., onstage ahead of a concert at Madison Square Garden in 1974. More than 20,000 people attended. The couple promptly divorced. And while the band’s singular sound continued to spiral into new, less radio-friendly directions, the original Family Stone lineup had wilted by 1975, with Mr. Stone increasingly recording solo.

He would never marry again. In addition to his son, he is survived by two daughters, Sylvette and Novena Carmel. 

In the decades that followed, there were periodic attempts to keep the Family Stone name alive and once again put Sly at the front of the cultural pack; his 1979 album was titled “Back on the Right Track.” But his idiosyncrasies and his legal troubles, including arrests for cocaine possession, held him back.

While his second and final solo album, “I’m Back! Family & Friends,” from 2011, was billed as Mr. Stone’s first release in three decades, he dismissed it as mostly old hits remade with new guests. In 2019, he cut a deal with Michael Jackson’s publishing company, Mijac, which allowed him once again to collect payment from a minority interest in his music catalog.

For his part, Mr. Stone said he reveled in his break from fame, having executed a lifetime of musical breakthroughs in less than a decade. “If you think about it, what could I do after ‘Higher’ or ‘If You Want Me to Stay’?” he asked the journalist Michael Goldberg in the early 1980s. “I wanted to go fishing, man. Or drive my own car. For a long time, I didn’t understand anywhere but hotel rooms, the inside of airplanes, and trying to figure out a way that I didn’t come off wrong to human beings.”

Along with Questlove, Mr. Stone’s longtime friend and manager Arlene Hirschkowitz helped push a renaissance of recognition in recent years. “Even if I stayed out of the spotlight, people managed to locate me,” Mr. Stone wrote in his memoir.

He eventually moved into a new house, where he passed time watching television, visiting with family and listening to music. “I keep my ears open for songs that connect back to my music,” he wrote. “I feel proud when I hear it echoing in what other people make.” (As Mr. Clinton, who inducted Mr. Stone into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, once said, “Sly was like all the Beatles and all of Motown in one.”)

Asked in the final pages of his autobiography if there was one thing that people could take from his life, Mr. Stone replied, “Music, just music.”

He added: “It’s been that always from the start. I don’t want to get in people’s way, and I don’t want them to get in my way. I just want to play my songs.”

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: 

 

Joe Coscarelli is a culture reporter for The Times who focuses on popular music and a co-host of the Times podcast “Popcast (Deluxe).” 

 

https://soundprojections.blogspot.com/2015/07/sylvester-stewart-aka-sly-stone-b-march.html 

Saturday, July 11, 2015

Sylvester Stewart aka SLY STONE (b. March 15, 1943): Legendary, innovative, and iconic musician, composer, singer, songwriter, lyricist, arranger, and ensemble leader


SOUND PROJECTIONS


AN ONLINE QUARTERLY MUSIC MAGAZINE


EDITOR: KOFI NATAMBU


SPRING/SUMMER, 2015


VOLUME ONE      NUMBER THREE
 

CHARLIE PARKER

Featuring the Musics and Aesthetic Visions of:

DUKE ELLINGTON
April 25-May 1

ART ENSEMBLE OF CHICAGO
May 2-May 8

ELLA FITZGERALD
May 9-15

DEE DEE BRIDGEWATER
May 16-May 22

MILES DAVIS
May 23-29

JILL SCOTT
May 30-June 5

REGINA CARTER
June 6-June 12

BETTY DAVIS
June 13-19

ERYKAH BADU
June 20-June 26

AL GREEN
June 27-July 3

 
Sly Stone Awarded $5 Million in Royalty Lawsuit

After five-year legal battle against his former manager, the Family Stone rocker recoups more than 10 years of lost royalties

by Daniel Kreps
January 28, 2015
Rolling Stone

Sly Stone was awarded $5 million in back royalties after his business partners were accused of "shady accounting." Martial Trezzini/Corbin


Sly Stone was awarded $5 million after a Los Angeles Supreme Court jury found that the Rock and Roll Hall of Famer was cheated out of over a decade's worth of royalties by his former manager and an entertainment lawyer. In the breach-of-contract lawsuit, Stone's lawyers argued that Gerald "Jerry" Goldstein and Glenn Stone had tricked Sly Stone into becoming an employee and co-owner of a company called Even St. Productions, which they then used to pocket Stone's royalties through "shady accounting."


Sly and the Family Stone Jam on 'Higher' »


"It's a good day for Sly, it's a good day for entertainers in general," Nicholas Hornberger, one of Stone's lawyers, told the press following the verdict. "This was an important verdict for people that are artists, entertainers, music composers, etc."

Lawyers for Goldstein, Sly's former manager, and Glenn Stone claimed that the rocker was hoping to "re-create his career" when he approached the company in 1989, the AP reports. They argued that Stone didn't see any royalty payments from 1989 to 2000 because the money that Even St. collected was used to pay off Stone's outstanding IRS debts. The defense put the figure in the $10 million range, the Wrap writes.


However, the jury disagreed with Glenn Stone and Goldstein's claims and returned a $5 million verdict in favor of Sly Stone, with Even St. ordered to pay the Family Stone rocker $2.5 million, Goldstein forced to pay $2.45 million and Glenn Stone $50,000. However, the decision gets murky given Sly Stone's status of a co-owner in Even St. Productions, which filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection in 2013. A judge will sort out that and other issues when the case returns to court "in a few weeks," Hornberger said.


"Sly’s a deeply religious guy and he loves everybody and they just took him. It's sad that people would treat other people like that," Hornberger told the Wrap. "This is endemic of the entertainment industry. There are bad people who leech off people and this has got to stop."


The legal battle between Sly Stone and Goldstein had been waging since at least 2010, when Stone sued his former manager for $50 million. It was later discovered that Stone was living out of a white van in Los Angeles after being left broke from "financial mismanagement." The year before, Stone accused Goldstein of fraud and embezzlement during a long rant onstage at the Coachella Music Festival; Goldstein later sued Stone for slander over that incident.


Read more: http://www.rollingstone.com/music/news/sly-stone-awarded-5-million-in-royalty-lawsuit-20150128#ixzz3fWdorBAI 
 
 
Freddy Stone discusses Sly and the Family Stone’s Stand! on its 45th anniversary
by Chris Williams
Waxpoetics


By the end of the 1960s, Sylvester “Sly Stone” Stewart, Frederick “Freddie Stone” Stewart, Rosemary “Rose Stone” Stewart, Cynthia Robinson, Larry Graham, Greg Errico, and Jerry Martini had become cornerstones within the psychedelic soul genre, which would become the foundation that funk music was built on. Behind the scenes, Sly Stone was the lustrous architect behind this groundbreaking sound sweeping the nation. As the Civil Rights Movement came to a close, the group decided to embrace a different creative direction both musically and lyrically. After releasing A Whole New Thing (1967), commercially successful Dance to the Music (1968), and Life (1968), they tasted mainstream success once again a year later. On May 3, 1969, Stand! was released by Epic Records. The record would spawn four singles, including the hits “Sing a Simple Song,” “I Want to Take You Higher,” “Everyday People,” and “Stand!”

During the recording of the album, each member played an integral role in the success of it through their eclectic vocal techniques, masterful instrumentation, and production methodologies. Stand! set the stage for the group’s ascendancy to superstardom and led to their contemporaries following their musical footsteps for unparalleled success. It became their highest-selling album until the release of 1971’s There’s a Riot Goin’ On. For the album’s forty-fifth anniversary, we spoke with Frederick “Freddie Stone” Stewart about crafting one of the most definitive records in the history of music.

What is the story behind the forming of the group?

Freddie Stone: Well, my mother and father were both musicians. My father played the violin, a little guitar, and juice harp, and he made those instruments. My mother played piano and guitar. They were Christian people. So – we were bought up in the church. It was normal; at least it felt normal to us to play music. We loved church as kids. We used to be in church all the time. We grew up in a Pentecostal church. We played, played, and played, and by the time I was seventeen, church folks used to come to me and tell me, “You keep on playing for the Lord. He’s going to bless you.” I started playing music when I was twelve. One day, a guy approached me and asked me if I was interested in playing at a club one night. He told me I would make a certain amount of money. For a person that only went to church and went home, I felt that the Lord was going to bless me one day, but this guy was going to bless me tonight. [laughs]

So I started playing in clubs, and my brother Sly [Stone] was already playing and doing his disc jockeying thing. While he was playing, I formed a group called Freddie & the Stone Souls. This is how Greg [Errico] and I met. He was just getting out of high school in San Francisco. Sly came to me one night, and at that time, he had a group called Sly & the Stoners playing at the same club as my group. His group was made up of older cats, and some of them were lazy and my group was new on the scene. With me being four years younger, it made a difference as we were coming up together. My group was so energetic and excited to play. I had some great personalities in the group. Greg was a phenomenal drummer, Herb, Danny, and Ronnie Crawford were all great saxophone players, and I had Ted a great bass player from Oakland. We all had a great time playing together. So one day, Sly came up to me and said, “Hey, why don’t we get together and have one group? I’ll tell you what. If you get the best players from your group, I’ll get the best players from my group, and we’ll start a group.” I thought about it for a while. Now, at that time, Sly was dynamite at creating music. He was a genius in the making, and that’s just the way it was. He was like that before he was on the radio. When he was young, he was great. So, what he said carried a lot of weight with me. I thought we were ready to do something for real. So I thought about the group thing long and hard, and because Sylvester was so good, it changed the standard of who I picked had it not been him. Because he was so good, the only one I could see going with us was Greg. I talked with the rest of the group and told them what I decided to do. Greg was the only one that could keep up with Sly. Sly brought Cynthia [Robinson] from his camp and Jerry Martini knew Sylvester before I knew Jerry.

We heard about a bass player in Oakland that could play. So I went over to Oakland to hear him play, and low and behold, I see Larry Graham and his mother is playing piano and singing, and he was on the bass. He was so, so good that it was unbelievable. I thought to myself that this guy was special. We ended up talking to Larry, and we made arrangements and Larry came along. Now, my sister Rose had been singing every once in a while with Sylvester. She was kind of iffy, but I talked her into joining our group. After we got started, my youngest sister Vaetta came later on. Our family had been singing for all our lives. It was just natural for us. We were fortunate enough to have the kind of musicians that got along well together: black and White. The chemistry was natural, and it was just so easy until it was fun. It was always so, fun. We had no expectations on what we could accomplish. When we got together to start rehearsing on the first day, we realized that we sounded really good together. We were happy that we were in a band that sounded good. We liked playing and there were no expectations to do a record. We didn’t expect to do anything great, we were just a happy band. This was the way we were raised in this small town in Vallejo, California.

My mother babysat all the children in the neighborhood, and they were all colors. We didn’t know anything about racism or prejudice. It was uncommon to us. When we began to look for musicians, we just looked for musicians that could play. It just so happened that it turned out the way it did. It was amazing how it turned out. God had His hands on it all.

Coming off your group’s previous album, Life, it wasn’t a commercial as Dance to the Music. What direction was your group trying to take the sound for the Stand! album?

When I look back at the Stand! album and where it sits in relation to the others, I see the songs “Stand!” “Everyday People,” “Sing a Simple Song,” and “I Want to Take You Higher” and I put it up against the Dance to the Music album, Dance to the Music was an experiment. Because our first album was one of those things where Sly did what he wanted to do with it and not to say he didn’t do it with the others, but that first album was great. After that first album, we started to gain knowledge of commercialism. The task became to do our own thing, but make it commercial, if we wanted people to hear us. We grew as a group to do Dance to the Music and then Stand! For me, Stand! was where we reached our peak as a group. Stand! was the album that said this is what we’ve been wanting to tell you in the other albums, and we’re at a place now where we can, plus things were happening in our country at that time. We felt like we were taking a stand, and we wanted to encourage our fans to do the same, hence “Sing a Simple Song,” and we wanted people to remember who they were with a song like “Everyday People.”

How much did the influence of perils in American society contribute to the subject matter on this particular album?

It influenced us a lot. After Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated in 1968, I remember we were driving through Detroit and we were pulled over by the military. We were put up against the wall with rifles pointed at our heads, while they searched our car to find something in it. They ended up finding a gun, but it was a blank gun. I was scared to death, but they let us go. After his death, everything changed. That was just the type of impact that Dr. King had on the world. It was time for us to get a little bit more serious about things. Dance to the Music was about having fun and being happy, but when it came to Stand!, the things that were happening across the country changed us as people. It’s amazing because, as entertainers, you feel like you would miss a lot. We would go to places in the South, and we didn’t know what was going on in these Southern cities. We would always bypass it because we were entertainers. I didn’t know that there were certain doors black people weren’t allowed to go through. After this, we would begin having conversations amongst ourselves, and Sly being the genius that he is, he was putting these thoughts into songs. Sly was uncanny at knowing how to put together certain words and phrases to say what needed to be said. He used to call our mother to get pointers on certain things. [laughs] He would ask her spiritual questions, and she would give him the answers he needed to write the songs he wrote. He was truly gifted.

Around this same time, I tried drugs for the first time. I remember we were playing the Fillmore East in New York City in 1968, and Jimi Hendrix was on the marquee. We were going to go on, and Jimi was coming on after us. On that particular night, I had a very sore throat. Someone came to me and asked me, “How are you doing?” I replied, “I feel pretty good, but my throat is sore.” He said, “You should try this.” He laid down a couple of lines of cocaine, and that was the first time I took drugs of any sort in my life. I never heard any cursing in my home and there was never any alcohol there. We came from a Christian family. But I ended up trying the cocaine and, immediately, my sore throat was gone! Not only was my sore throat gone, but that particular night, I thought I played better than I ever played in my entire life. I thought I’d danced and sang better than I ever had that night, too. It was raining, and we ended up dancing outside the Fillmore East and people were following us and we ended up around the building. When I went back to talk to that guy, I asked him, “What was that you gave me for my sore throat?” He said, “Cocaine.” From that point on, I made excuses for why I needed to get more cocaine. For me, this lasted for ten years. I lost my family because of it. I didn’t get set free until 1980. It’s amazing the things that can happen to you when you’re naïve. When you’re dealing with things in the world, things can befall anybody, whether if you’re naïve or not.

Since you had a heavy background in gospel music before recording secular music, I wanted to focus on the influence that gospel music had on your group, and how it impacted your overall recording style on this particular record.

Whenever it came to recording, everyone pretty much did what they wanted to do. I know that Cynthia and Jerry really liked the horn parts that Sly would write for them. They could’ve done it on their own, but they wanted Sly to write it for them. Everyone else would play what they heard during our sessions. The way my sister Rose, Sly and I played, our mother and father had a great influence on us that we couldn’t shake, and we didn’t want to shake it. My mother and father came to California from Texas. They had this country style of playing music. On the one hand, their style was country, but on the other hand it was funky. My mom’s sister played piano and her other sister played guitar in church. Music was on both sides of my family. Billy Preston was the first musician that I played with when I struck out on my own, before I got my own band. Sly and Billy were close. I went to LA and played lead guitar with Billy. I’ve been fortunate enough to be around great musicians: Larry Graham, Jerry Martini, Cynthia Robinson, and Greg Errico. When you’re around great musicians like that, it just helps you become better. This is what they did and what Sly did. I’ve been blessed to be around some beautiful people. I played with Billy Preston for six months in Los Angeles. I remember one night I was playing a gig with him and Tina Turner walked in. When I left Billy, I formed my first group. I remember I met B.B. King when our group was in Cleveland. He said he had heard about us, but when I talked with him, he gave me one of the formulas by which he plays his solos. He didn’t have to do it, but he did. All these influences helped not only me, but our group in making this album.

Who was responsible in coming up with the melodies and harmonies for this album?

Ultimately, it was Sylvester. As far as the group contributions go, Sly, Rose, Vaetta, and I always sang a certain way with each other. So, some things were already set in place as far as the harmonies. We knew what parts I was going to take or what parts Sly was going to take and whether or not he was going to do any backgrounds or what part Rose or Vaetta was going to take. This was already set before the group started because of our vocal ranges. Sometimes, some group members felt like a certain note should’ve gone in one direction or a sound should’ve been on the bottom instead of on the top, but little did I know, the way we were doing it would turn out to be good musically. The same thing with the horns; Sly did the horns because he had the musical knowledge to make the horns sound more than they were. He knew how to space them. He took that and extended everything else to make sure they sounded the same way.

What was the methodology behind his spacing style?

Well, he used to talk about his college music teacher Mr. Froelich. By that time, Sly was already playing instruments, but Mr. Froelich gave him some musical insight on this spacing style.

Were the songs on this album constructed inside or outside of the studio?

For the songs on this album, most of them were written outside of the studio, while some were written in the studio, and the others were written off the cuff. On our first record, most of the songs were written in my mom’s basement. We rehearsed every day in her basement for about a year. People would come over in the morning, and we would rehearse all day long in the basement. But I remember working on “Sex Machine.” “Sex Machine” was recorded in the studio, because I remember the solo on it. Sly called me in to do the solo. This was in San Francisco at Pacific High Studios. I was in the studio with him for about an hour. During the process, he said, “Freddie, go home. Go home. Forget it. It ain’t happening. Go home. I’ll see you in the morning.” So, I left. I’m there first thing the next morning and he said, “Play the solo.” In one take, it was done. For most of the songs, I can say, there was always a skeleton done for them. We knew what the lyrics were, but the music was being worked out in the studio. When we all got together and played the songs, some things would be tweaked. The album that was different from this process would be There’s a Riot Goin’ On.

Can you describe the creative dynamic between group members during the making of this album?

At the beginning, Sly would do certain things on the drums to show Greg what he was feeling or what he was looking for or to get Greg off of his regular train of thought. He would do things like that, so he wouldn’t come in with any preconceived notions on how a song would go. He liked to change things up. Sly was pretty free about letting the musicians play what they wanted to play. There were certain songs where he wanted specific things for the group to play. We never had any problems as a group with creativity, but Sly had a structure about what he wanted to do. If you notice, each person in the group played a significant role in shaping our sound. It was more than the musical notes that we were playing; it was the way we hit the notes.

Take me through the making of each song on the album.

I have my own take on Sly and his genius. With me being the little brother and watching my older brother write, I have my take on certain things that I haven’t disclosed yet being that I am his brother. So, I couldn’t tell you. I’m going to save that for my book.

As you look back forty-five years later, you can see how much influence this album has made on popular culture. What are your feelings about the success you achieved with it, and its lasting legacy as one of the best albums ever recorded?

Well, we didn’t know that this particular album was going to do what it did. We didn’t know we had tapped into the pulse of the people. We didn’t know we had hit a homerun. We were just going up to the plate like we normally did and swing. We didn’t know what the outcome was going to be. It wasn’t what we had in mind, it was what God had in mind. It’s like when you write songs and play your music and someone will walk up to you and let you know you played well that night. It’s not so much about how you played it; it’s about how they heard it. Not in our wildest dreams, did we think we were going to have any type of impact. I was on my way to San Francisco one day and someone calls me to let me know that Sly & the Family Stone was inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. When that happened, I didn’t know there was such a hall of fame and I wasn’t even thinking about it. I think we’ve received the recognition for our music because we made an impact. My sister Vaetta called me up one day to tell me that people were still playing our music. When people ask me questions about what was going on behind the scenes and how did you make such great music, I tell them it was Sly writing what was coming out of his heart and soul. He is a true genius. I just tell people to do what they love doing. That’s what we did.


http://www.vanityfair.com/culture/2007/08/sly200708 


Sly Stone's Higher Power

by David Kamp

August, 2007

Vanity Fair



Sly Stone on his custom three-wheeled chopper, outside his home, in Napa, California, on June 10, 2007. Photograph by Mark Seliger.



Sly Stone vanished into rumor in the 1980s, remembered only by the great songs ("I Want to Take You Higher," "Dance to the Music") he left behind. What's become of the funky leader of the Family Stone since he forsook his Woodstock-era utopianism for darkness, drugs, and isolation? After a few sightings—most notoriously at the 2006 Grammys—the author tracked the last of the rock recluses to a Bay Area biker shop, to scope out where Stone's been, where he's headed, and what's behind those shades.

by David Kamp


Will Sly show up?

I sure hope so. I have an appointment with him. I've flown across the country and quadruple-checked to make sure that we're still on.

To cynics and music-industry veterans, this very premise is laughable: an appointment with Sly Stone. Yeah, right. For 20-odd years, Stone has been one of music's great recluses, likened in the press to J. D. Salinger and Howard Hughes. And in the years before he slipped away, he was notorious for not showing up even when he said he would. Missed concerts, rioting crowds, irritated promoters, drug problems, band tensions, burned bridges.






View a slide show of Sly Stone and friends. 
 
Photograph by Herb Greene.

But in his prime, Stone was a fantastic musician, performer, bandleader, producer, and songwriter. Even today, his life-affirming hits from the late 60s and early 70s—among them "Stand!," "Everyday People," and "Family Affair"—continue to thrive on the radio, magically adaptable to any number of programming formats: pop, rock, soul, funk, lite. He was a black man and emphatically so, with the most luxuriant Afro and riveted leather jumpsuits known to Christendom, but he was also a pan-culturalist who moved easily among all races and knew no genre boundaries. There was probably no more Woodstockian moment at Woodstock than when he and the Family Stone, his multi-racial, four-man, two-woman band, took control of the festival in the wee hours of August 17, 1969, getting upwards of 400,000 people pulsing in unison to an extended version of "I Want to Take You Higher." For one early morning, at least, the idea of "getting higher" wasn't an empty pop-culture construct or a stoner joke, but a matter of transcendence. This man had power.

He also had a compelling penchant for folly. In the jivey, combustible early 1970s, when it was almost fashionable for public figures to unleash their ids and abandon all shame—whether it was Norman Mailer's baiting a roomful of feminists at New York's Town Hall or Burt Reynolds's posing nude on a bearskin for Cosmopolitan—Sly was out on the front lines, contributing some first-rate unhinged behavior of his own. Like marrying his 19-year-old girlfriend onstage in 1974 at Madison Square Garden before a ticket-buying audience of 21,000, with Soul Train host Don Cornelius presiding as M.C. Or appearing on Dick Cavett's late-night ABC talk show while conspicuously, if charmingly, high. "You're great," Stone told his flummoxed host in 1971, in the second of two notorious visits to Cavett's soundstage. "You are great. You are great. You know what I mean? [Pounds fist on heart.] Booom! Right on! Sure thing. No, for real. For real, Dick. Hey, Dick. Dick. Dick. You're great."

Cavett, grasping for some sense of conversational traction, smirked and replied, "Well, you're not so bad yourself."

"Well," said Sly, eyes rolling up in contemplation, "I am kinda bad … "

Sly Stone is my favorite of the rock-era recluses, and, really, the only big one left. Syd Barrett, the architect of Pink Floyd's entrancingly loopy early sound, passed away last summer at the age of 60, having resisted all entreaties to explain himself or sing again. Brian Wilson, the fragile visionary behind the Beach Boys, has been gently coaxed out of his shell by his friends and acolytes, and now performs and schmoozes regularly. He doesn't count as a recluse anymore.

But Sly has remained elusive—still with us, yet seemingly content to do without us. I have been pursuing him for a dozen years, on and off, wondering if there would ever come a time when he'd release new material, or at the very least sit down and talk about his old songs. I've loved his music for as long as I've been a sentient human being—he started making records with the Family Stone when I was a toddler. And over time, as the silence has lengthened, his disappearance from public life has become a fascinating subject in and of itself. How could it have happened? How could a man with such an extensive and impressive body of work just shut down and cut out?

"I often tell people that I have more dead rock stars on tape than anyone, and they'll say, 'You mean Janis, Hendrix, and Sly?'" says Cavett today. "A lot of people think he's gone." Even if you're aware that Sly lives, you have to wonder what kind of shape he's in, projecting that beautiful but reckless man of 1971 into 2007, the year he turned 64. What of the dark rumors that he's done so much coke that his brain is zapped, and that he now exists in a pathetic, vegetative state? What of the more hopeful rumors that he's still writing and noodling with his keyboards, biding his time until he feels ready to attempt a comeback?

I had long dreamed of the latter scenario. Syd Barrett excepted, they do all come back. Brian Wilson did. The Stooges did. The New York Dolls did. Even Roky Erickson, the psychedelic pioneer from the 13th Floor Elevators, long presumed to be fried beyond rehabilitation by electroshock treatments he received in the early 1970s, has staged a robust return to the live circuit.

My hopes for a Sly comeback were highest in 2003. That year, in the back room of a music store in Vallejo, California, where Sly grew up, I sat in on a rehearsal of a re-united Family Stone led by Freddie Stone, Sly's guitarist brother. Freddie was intent on recording an album of entirely new material that he had written with his sister Rose, who played organ and shared lead vocals in the old group. "Sylvester's doing very well, by the way," Freddie told me, using his brother's given name. Gregg Errico, the band's drummer, who was also in on the reunion, explained that, while they weren't counting on Sly to join them, they had set a place for him just in case, like Seder participants awaiting Elijah. "We profess that the keyboard is on the stage, the [Hammond] B3's running, and the seat is warm for him," Errico said.

But that reunion quickly fizzled out. After that, my Sly search lay dormant; I pretty much gave up. He hadn't shown his face in public since 1993, when he and the Family Stone were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Characteristically, Sly slipped in and out of the ceremony without saying much, barely acknowledging his siblings and bandmates. So why would he ever want to perform again, much less meet up with a stranger?

Then, out of nowhere, there began a series of brief, intriguing resurfacings. In August of 2005, he was sighted in L.A. on a chopper motorcycle, giving his sister Vaetta, who goes by the nickname Vet, a ride to Hollywood's Knitting Factory club, where she was performing a set with her band, the Phunk Phamily Affair. The following February came Stone's enigmatic appearance at the 2006 Grammy Awards, in which he loped onto the stage in a gold lamé trench coat and plumy blond Mohawk, performed a snippet of "I Want to Take You Higher" with some guest musicians paying him tribute, and loped off again before the song was over. And in January of this year, Stone put in a surprise cameo at Vet's band's show at the House of Blues in Anaheim, California, adding vocals and keyboards to their performances of "Higher" and "Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin)."

What to make of this? Was Sly's newfound quasi-visibility a sign that, at last, his return was nigh? Early this year, I managed to get in touch with Vet Stone, who confirmed that her brother was indeed planning a return: a show in San Jose on July 7 with her band (which, with Sly's blessing, has been renamed the Family Stone), and then some summer dates at festivals in Europe. After several telephone conversations in early spring and one meeting with me in person, Vet called one day with the news: Sly would speak. We would meet up on May 9 in Vallejo, his hometown, 25 miles north of Oakland.

Are You Ready?

On the designated day, Vet and I arrive early at the designated meeting place: Chopper Guys Biker Products Inc., a Vallejo business that manufactures parts and frames for custom motorcycles. Sly, who lived in L.A. on and off for 36 years but recently relocated to Napa Valley, gets his bikes serviced here. As Vet and I kill time chatting, we eventually notice that it's about 10 minutes past the appointed start time of our meeting. Nothing worrying, but a long enough period to have faint thoughts of Hmm, maybe this won't work out. Vet tells me how many doubters she's had to deal with in booking those summer European dates, "people who wouldn't take my call, people who hung up on me, people who think I'm a delusional woman." She has been the catalyst of Sly's tentative re-emergence, the one who pulled him out of L.A. and found him a home up north, who persuaded him to play with her band and get back out on the road again. It's exhausted her, and she's openly daunted by the logistics of planning for her brother, never the smoothest of travelers, to fly to Europe and then zip from Umbria to Montreux to Ghent.

But she's gotten this far, which fuels her faith. "All I can say," she says, and it's something she says a lot, "is that I'm his little sister, and he's never lied to me." Nevertheless, even Vet is starting to get a little nervous about the interview, checking her cell phone, stepping outside the front door of Chopper Guys with me to see if anyone's coming.

And then, like John Wayne emerging from 'cross the prairie in The Searchers … a strange form advances through the wavy air in the distance: some sort of vehicle, low to the ground, rumbling mightily as it turns off the highway and into the parking lot. As it comes closer, the shapes become clearer: a flamboyantly customized banana-yellow chopper trike, the front tire jutting four feet out in front of the driver. He sits on a platform no higher than 18 inches off the ground, legs extended in front of him, his body clad in a loose, tan shirt-and-pants ensemble somewhere between Carhartt work clothes and pajamas. His feet are shod in black leather sneakers with green-yellow-red African tricolor trim. Behind him, on an elevated, throne-like seat built between the two fat back tires, sits an attractive, 30-ish woman in full biker leathers. He always was good at entrances.

Sly Stone and his lady companion, who I learn is named Shay, disembark from the chopper and walk toward the shop. He applies pink baby lotion to his hands, which I notice are huge, with elongated, tapering fingers. He's still very slim—there was never a Fat Sly period—and he does not appear frail, as several recent reports have described him. In fact, he moves rather well, especially for a 64-year-old man who's just spent time scrunched into a custom-chopper cockpit. But he has the same hunched posture he had at the '06 Grammys—a bit like Silvio Dante's in The Sopranos—and he wears a neck brace.

We shake hands and say hello. I've heard he owns an old Studebaker, so I tell him I, too, own an old Studebaker. "Really, what year?" he says, looking up at me with a smile. He pulls two chairs together for our chat, a metal stool and an old barber's chair. As all these mundane things are transpiring, I realize I'm recording them in my mind like a doctor observing a patient recovering from brain trauma. He is aware of his surroundings. He is capable of participating in linear conversational exchanges. He is able to move chairs.

The only strange part: he is still wearing his helmet and shades when we sit down to talk. Good lord, I'm thinking, is he going to wear the helmet the whole time? Fortunately, without my prompting, Vet says, "Why don't you take your helmet off?," and Sly obliges, revealing a backward San Francisco Giants cap.

"Still sporting the blond Mohawk under there?" I ask.

"Naw, not now, it's very short," he says. Then, deadpan: "Most of it growing under the skin."

I start the interview in earnest with the most obvious question: "Why have you chosen to come back now?"

At this, he grins. "'Cause it's kind of boring at home sometimes."

"But it's bigger than just being bored at home, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I got a lot of songs I want to record and put out, so I'm gonna try 'em out on the road," he says. "That's the way it's always worked the best: Let's try it out and see how the people feel."

Stone tells me he has a huge backlog of new material, "a library, like, a hundred and some songs, or maybe 200." This subject, I come to understand, animates him like no other. With the old songs, he seems uninterested in analysis. When I ask him if he was consciously trying to do something different with his December 1969 single "Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin)," which, with its chanted unison vocals and slap bass, effectively invented 1970s funk—without it, no Parliament-Funkadelic, no Ohio Players, no Earth, Wind & Fire—he replies simply, "Well, the title was spelled phonetically. That was one thing different."

Likewise, on more personal matters, such as what else he was up to in his awol years, he's evasive: "Just traveling—going around, jumping in and out, and up and down." He doesn't flinch when I broach the subject of his hunched posture and neck brace, but it's clear he doesn't want to break out the M.R.I.'s, either. "I fell off a cliff," he says. "I was walking in my yard in Beverly Hills, missed my footing, and started doing flips. But you know what? I had a plate of food in my hand. And when I landed, I still had a plate of food in my hand. That's the God-lovin' truth. I did not drop a bean."

But when I ask Stone to describe the new songs, he straightens up, rocks forward in his seat, and starts rhyming in an insistent cadence somewhere between a preacher's and a rapper's, the rasp suddenly gone from his otherwise low, throaty speaking voice. "There's one that says, 'Ever get a chance to put your thanks on? / Somebody you know you can bank on? / Even sometimes you might embarrass them by pulling rank on? / Now, whatcha gonna do when you run out of them? … Another holiday, you're drunk and curbing it / You can't face a noun, so you're straight adverbing it / You had an argument at home, and you had to have the last word in it / Now whatcha gonna do when you run out of them?'

"There's one that's called 'We're Sick Like That,'" he continues. "It says, 'Give a boy a flag and teach him to salute / Give the same boy a gun and teach him how to shoot / And then one night, the boy in the bushes, he starts to cry / 'Cause nobody ever really taught him how to die.'"

The obvious allusion to the current war jars me, and I soon realize why: Stone has been absent from the scene for such a duration that it's hard to imagine that he was with us all along, experiencing all the things we experienced over the years—the fall of the Berlin Wall, the collapse of the Soviet Union, Nelson Mandela's release from prison, the rise of the World Wide Web, the attacks on 9/11, the invasion of Iraq. It's almost as if he went into a decades-long deep freeze, like Austin Powers or the astronauts in Planet of the Apes. Except he didn't. "Did you do normal-person things?" I ask about the missing years. "Did you watch Cheers in the 80s and Seinfeld in the 90s? Do you watch American Idol now? Do you have a normal life or more of a Sly Stone life?"


"I've done all that," he says. "I do regular things a lot. But it's probably more of a Sly Stone life. It's probably … it's probably not very normal."

The Sly Stone life started getting abnormal shortly after his band's euphoric Woodstock performance. Joel Selvin, the veteran music critic of the San Francisco Chronicle, published a thoroughgoing, book-length oral history of the group in 1998 (simply called Sly and the Family Stone: An Oral History) that is as disturbing and chilling a version as you'll ever find of the "dashed 60s dream" narrative: idealism giving way to disillusionment, soft drugs giving way to hard, ferment to rot.

It's agreed upon by everyone Selvin interviewed—which is pretty much everyone in Stone's family, band, and circle of hangers-on, apart from Sly himself—that the bad craziness began when he forsook the Bay Area for Southern California, in 1970. Exit the music of hope and the gorgeous mosaic; enter firearms, coke, PCP, goons, paranoia, isolation, and a mean-spirited pet pit bull named Gun.




"There is a cloud flying over Sly from the time he moved down to Los Angeles," the Family Stone's original saxophonist, Jerry Martini, told Selvin. "Things really changed when he moved down there … It was havoc. It was very gangsterish, dangerous. The vibes were very dark at that point."

Before that, though, there was the Bay Area Sly of the 1960s, a different character altogether: a personable, outgoing, uncommonly talented young man who cut quite a swath through the region's music scene. He was born Sylvester Stewart into a loving, tight-knit family presided over by a father, K.C., and a mother, Alpha, whose marriage would last 69 years. K.C. ran a janitorial business in Vallejo and was a deacon in the local Pentecostal church. From an early age, Sylvester was performing with his siblings in a gospel group called the Stewart Four. Loretta, the eldest of the five Stewart children, provided piano accompaniment, while the four Stewarts of the billing—in birth order, Sylvester, Rose, Freddie, and Vet—harmonized on vocals. "We traveled around from church to church, all over California, performing concerts," says Vet. "We thought we were just like any other family. We had no idea."

The greatest prodigy of all the young Stewarts, Sylvester was also the most driven. He was barely into his 20s when he insinuated himself into the inner circle of San Francisco's biggest music macher, the disc jockey and impresario Tom "Big Daddy" Donahue. In 1964, Sylvester collaborated with Donahue on the song "C'mon and Swim," a Top 10 hit for the local soul star Bobby Freeman. Shortly thereafter, he became the house producer at Donahue's label, Autumn Records, working with, among others, the Great Society and the Warlocks, the precursor bands to, respectively, Jefferson Airplane and the Grateful Dead. In the same period, under his new stage name, Sly Stone, Sylvester became a regional radio celebrity, hosting a soul show on the station KSOL from seven p.m. to midnight.

You Can Make It If You Try

It was all in place, the eclectic mishmash of sensibilities and influences that would inform Sly and the Family Stone: soul, gospel, pop, Haight hippiedom, sparkly showmanship. (In his D.J. days, Stone drove a Jaguar XKE he'd had custom-painted bright purple.) So when Sly decided to start up a band of his own, he knew exactly what he wanted. "It was very deliberate: men and women, different races, dressing different," says Larry Graham, the group's bassist. Martini, the saxophonist and one of the band's two white members (along with Errico, the drummer), recalls Stone playing an almost curatorial role in shaping the band's presentation. Pointing to an old publicity photo that shows him ridiculously attired in a piebald poncho, Martini says, "That was a rug! Sly saw a cow skin on the floor, got a rug cutter, cut a hole in it, and said 'Here, Jerry, this is gonna be your outfit.'"

Everyone had a signature look. Errico wore a leopard-print vest-and-trousers getup almost as absurd as Martini's bovine fantasia. Graham wore robes and capes. Freddy Stewart, re-christened Freddie Stone, wore appliquéd overalls. Rose Stewart/Stone wore a variety of Ikette wigs and go-go dresses. Cynthia Robinson, the trumpet player, favored psychedelic-patterned smocks and let her straightened hair grow out into a Black Power Afro. Sly himself cultivated a neon pimp look, with flashy vests (often worn without a shirt), goggle shades, heavy jewelry, tight trousers, and muttonchop sideburns.

"I remember having lunch with Sly in my dining room, right at the beginning," says Clive Davis, who was in his first year as president of CBS Records in 1967, when its Epic subsidiary signed the group. "I told him, 'I'm concerned that the serious radio stations that might be willing to play you'—by which I meant the underground FM radio stations—'will be put off by the costuming, the hairstyles.' It was almost Las Vegas–like in its presentation. Sly said, 'Look, that's part of what I'm doing. I know people could take it the wrong way, but that's who I am.' And he was right. I learned an important lesson from him: When you're dealing with a pathfinder, you allow that genius to unfold."

Musically, too, Stone orchestrated a theoretically unwieldy but ultimately ingenious fusion of styles. "It's one of the things I really admire about Sly—we were all allowed to use our creativity, to have freedom of expression in how we played," says Graham, whose percussive "thumpin' and pluckin'" bass style became practically a new musical genre unto itself. The band's first and most conventionally soul-like album, A Whole New Thing, was a flop, but the exhortative title song of album two, "Dance to the Music," became their first Top 10 hit, in 1968, and remains a party standard to this day.

The album Stand! (1969) represented the apotheosis of both the band's signature "psychedelic soul" sound and their status as positivity-preaching messengers from the Utopian, multicultural future. Five of the album's eight songs—"Stand!," "I Want to Take You Higher," "Sing a Simple Song," "Everyday People," and "You Can Make It if You Try"—ended up on the Greatest Hits album that came out the following year.

Stand!, tellingly, was the album that the band was touring behind at the time of Woodstock. Graham recalls the festival as a moment when the group's members "tapped into a new zone," achieving a musical power they hadn't realized they were capable of. "It's like when an athlete like Michael Jordan realizes the extent of his gifts and goes, 'Oh, I can do that,'" he says.

But rather than return to the studio to capitalize on this momentum, Stone bunched himself up into a shag-carpeted cocoon. The year 1970 came and went with no new album and, worse, a new penchant for missing shows—26 out of 80, to be precise. Stone's decision to move to Los Angeles didn't do much for band harmony, either. In 1971, Errico quit, fed up with being summoned to L.A. from his Bay Area home for sessions on the next Family Stone album, only to be kept waiting indefinitely for Stone to use him.

That same year, Stone started renting the Bel Air mansion owned by the debauched hippie king John Phillips, of the Mamas and the Papas, which had been previously owned by Jeanette MacDonald, squeaky-clean star of corny 1930s MGM operettas. The L.A. music mogul Lou Adler, Phillips's best friend, recalls that the house across the street (which was used for exterior shots in The Beverly Hillbillies) was owned by a wealthy hotelier named Arnold Kirkeby. "The Kirkebys were a very conservative family," Adler says, "and they hated the flowing robes that John and his wife, Michelle, wore, the caftans and Nehru collars. They were very pleased that a 'Mr. Sylvester Stewart' was moving in. They liked the sound of that."

Needless to say, Stone and his new entourage left even John Phillips appalled. "There were lots of guns, rifles, machine guns, and big dogs" on his property, he later lamented.

"At some point, I started getting concerned about stories I heard about Sly's personal habits," says Clive Davis, who was also worried that his star artist might never deliver a new album. "But every time I met with him, he was on top of his game. I was somewhat innocent of the lifestyle going on around me, whether it was him or Janis Joplin."

Spaced Cowboy

Even though he had the Bel Air house and real studios at his disposal, Stone spent much of his time working on the new album, There's a Riot Goin' On, in a Winnebago motor home rigged up with recording equipment. ("There was a riot in that motor home," Stone says with a smile, not elaborating further.) The remaining Family Stone members played on the album, but no longer did so as a band, instead overdubbing their parts individually. They also had company, in the form of guest musicians Stone had brought aboard, among them the keyboardist Billy Preston and the guitarist Bobby Womack.

"We used to ride around in his motor home, getting high and writing songs and making music," Womack told the British rock journalist Barney Hoskyns. But what started as a lark for the soul and R&B singer-guitarist became a nightmare. "I became paranoid at everything," Womack said. "I was always thinking I was gonna get killed and that the feds were gonna bust in on Sly. Everybody had pistols. It got to the point where I said, 'I gotta get away from here.' Sly be talkin' to you, but he ain't there."

Somehow, the album that emerged from this chaos, which was finally released in November 1971, turned out brilliantly, if darkly. There's a Riot Goin' On is great "this is your brain on drugs" music. It sounds nothing like the chirpy albums that preceded it. Because Stone kept re-recording and overdubbing on the same master tape, wearing it out in the process, the overall sound is muffled and washed out—a bit of technical malfeasance that serendipitously suited the album's spacey, mid-tempo songs.

On many tracks, the air of dislocation is enhanced by the cold, metronomic gallop of the primitive drum machine that substituted for the departed Errico. And Stone's vocals are plain spooky—like a supine junkie's before he lapses into a coma. This is true even on the album's catchy, chart-topping single, "Family Affair." Listen to his ghoulish, meandering delivery of the line "Newly wehhhhdd a year ago / But you're still checkin' each other out / Yeahhh." It's like hearing a heat-warped 45 played at 33 r.p.m.

There's a Riot Goin' On has been as picked over and decrypted by rock critics as anything in Bob Dylan's catalogue. The opening line of the opening song, "Luv N' Haight"—"Feels so good inside myself / Don't wanna move"—is often interpreted as Stone's statement of retreat into solipsism, a repudiation of his flower-power "Everyday People" ethos of the 1960s. The late Timothy White, the Billboard editor and former Rolling Stone writer, called the album "a brooding, militant, savage indictment of all the decayed determinism of the '60s."

But Stone himself seems oblivious to the very fact of all this tea-leaf reading. "People say Riot is about Sly Stone's disillusionment with the 60s dream," I tell him.

"Oh, really?" he says, genuinely surprised.

"Yes, what do you make of that?"

"That may be true," he says.

"May be?" I say. "It's you! Is it true or isn't it?"

"I mean, I've never thought about it like that," he says. "I don't really feel like I'm disillusioned. Maybe I am. I don't think so, though."

I ask if his writing was impacted by any of the period's ugliness—the Kent State killings, the Attica prison riots, the M.L.K. and R.F.K. assassinations.

"Um, I paid attention to it," he says, "but I didn't count on it. I wasn't going on any other program or agenda or philosophy. It was just what I observed, where I was at."

Still, Stone doesn't totally dismiss those who ascribe loftier meanings to the album. When I ask him if he regards There's a Riot Goin' On in any way as a political statement, he says, "Well, yeah, probably. But I didn't mean it to be."

Runnin' Away

The success of There's a Riot Goin' On, which debuted at No. 1 on the Billboard album chart, obscured the fact that the band was further disintegrating and that Stone's unreliability was increasingly a problem to concert promoters. The no-show subject remains a sore one with Stone, who says he wasn't as bad as he was made out to be. "I got tired of going to concerts where I'd have to pay a bond, pay money in case I didn't show up," he says. Stone claims that some of his missed dates weren't his fault but acts of collusion between promoters and transportation people, who cynically exploited his reputation for flaking out. "I later found out that they had a deal going between the promoter and the guy that was taking me to the gig," he says. "So I would put up the $25,000 or the $50,000. The guy with me would help me be late, and I didn't realize that was what was going on until later. Then they'd split the money. That kind of stuff can play on your attitude a little bit. I wasn't so focused after a while."

Larry Graham bolted from the band in the tumultuous period after Riot's release, having grown estranged from Stone. If the witnesses in Selvin's oral history are to be believed, each man had developed an entourage of gun-wielding flunkies, and Graham feared for his life. Graham, now a devout and unrelentingly upbeat Jehovah's Witness, is reluctant to get into the details, except to say, "Maybe things were exaggerated in the past. During those periods of time, there were a number of elements I couldn't control. I wasn't the leader. Whereas Sly was the leader: he chose to have certain people around him. Sly and I were, and still are, a family. At some point, a member of a family needs to leave home."

With a new bassist, Rusty Allen, Stone managed to put out one more great album, Fresh (1973), and one more pretty good one, Small Talk (1974). But the fragmentation of the "classic" lineup was the beginning of the end, and a prelude to Stone's reclusive, unproductive years. From the mid- to late 1970s, his output was low in inspiration and didn't sell well, notwithstanding the desperate hopefulness of the titles he gave his albums: High on You (not on drugs; on You!); Heard Ya Missed Me, Well I'm Back; and Back on the Right Track.

By the 80s, the situation was just dire—too sad to qualify as gonzo Keith Richards druggy bravado or This Is Spinal Tap muso-comedy. Stone was arrested several times for cocaine possession. He missed several court dates. In 1984 he shortsightedly sold his publishing rights to Michael Jackson's publishing company, Mijac Music. And creatively he'd dried up. The last new music he recorded for commercial release came out in 1986: a duet with Jesse Johnson, of the Minneapolis group the Time, on Johnson's solo single "Crazay"—an acceptable but undistinguished slice of period shoulder-pad funk. "I don't even know what that song was about, to this day," Stone says. "I just happened to go in the studio."

His drug use is another one of those subjects that Stone won't delve into too deeply. But he reckons that he got serious about getting sober around 15 years ago. "I'm pretty cool," he says. "I drink now and then, a little bit—beer. And I smoke butts sometimes." When I probe about how he managed to "clean up," he responds with a shrewd bit of verbal cryptology that sounds like one of his lyrics: "I just looked around one day, and it was cleaned up. Just hardly was nothing there. Just … certain people were not around."

I get the sense that Sly relishes this sort of opaqueness—letting people in just enough to intrigue and confound them. Some weeks later, Vet calls to tell me that Sly wants to send me a statement "about the war," by fax. It turns out to be a free-associative pensée that touches on our populace's divisions of opinion, the 9/11 attacks, and my own long pursuit of an interview with him. "Our demonstrative ways representing our opinions do us more harm than we are ready to admit," the fax reads in part. "I'd hate to start a fight, but I could get into fighting back. I know what you mean about being tired of callin' me. I was looking at this report having to do with reporters deserving free travel. In utter words, you are deserving of great patience and persistence and you got it. Although both of us know you must be patient before you are one.… Just say the truth and hope he doesn't get pissed off at you. You don't need that. I'm invincible … no Sly, you're washable and rinseable."

Family Affair


The Chopper Guys get-together was the first time I actually met Stone, but it was the second time this year I'd seen him in the flesh. On March 31, he played his first-ever scheduled concert with Vet's version of the Family Stone—which features only Robinson, the trumpeter, among the original members—at the Flamingo Hotel, in Las Vegas. By "scheduled concert," I mean that Stone was promised to the promoter and the ticket buyers as part of the show; he wasn't merely making an unbilled cameo, as he'd done in Anaheim in January.

It was a curious booking: a concert attached to the stand-up act of George Wallace, a veteran black comedian who routinely works Saturday nights in the Flamingo Showroom, a smallish theater with lounge-style banquettes and tables. The unconventional, low-wattage setup was an indicator of the industry's persistent wariness of Stone. Whereas Brian Wilson's comeback concerts at the turn of the decade were elaborately stage-managed affairs in posh venues, with an orchestra behind him and adoring fans in front of him, Stone finds himself in the position of having to earn back the public's trust. "Somebody had to take a chance," Wallace told EURweb.com, a black-entertainment news service, "so it's me."

As word leaked out about the Flamingo engagement, the skeptics raised their voices. "There are some doubters who bet Sly will be a no-show for his show," said an item in the New York Post's "Page Six" column, the day before the concert. "Our bookmaker says the odds are about even."

When I got to Vegas, I realized how jerry-rigged the Sly comeback machinery was. There were posters up in McCarran Airport and throughout the city advertising sly & the family stone at the Flamingo, but the photo displayed was a poor-quality screen grab of Stone, with his Mohawk, from the Grammy telecast—evidently the best the promoters could do in terms of getting a current publicity shot.

The morning of the show, I sat down with Vet Stone, Cynthia Robinson, and some other members of their traveling troupe. With the exception of myself and Skyler Jett, a young musician who sings Sly's leads in the prodigal leader's absence, everyone in the room was a woman. Among them were Lisa Stone, the pretty daughter of Rose, who sings her mother's old parts, and Novena, Sly's daughter, a petite, poised young woman of 25, who, when I asked, said, "My last name's not important." (Sly also has a daughter in her 30s, Phunn, with Robinson, and a son, Sylvester junior, also in his 30s, with Kathy Silva, the woman he married onstage at Madison Square Garden in '74 and divorced five months later.)

The matriarchal new configuration of the Family Stone makes sense—a bosomy, embracing, welcoming change of pace from the phallic tough-guy posturing of the old days. It's a forgiving group, too. It couldn't have been easy for Robinson in the 1970s, carrying and raising Sly's child while he was becoming an epic rock casualty, but here she was, telling me that Sly's tardiness to concerts was often the result of noble behavior. "Many times Sly was late because he came back and got the ones who were really late," she said. "You know, the first trip we ever made to New York, I missed the flight—and had never been on a plane before. And Sly stayed back, so I'd have somebody to ride with. I didn't ask him to, but he knew I'd never flown."

Vet Stone was never an official member of the original Family Stone, but she contributed backing vocals to their albums from the beginning and had some brief chart success in the early 70s with her own, Sly-produced group, aptly called Little Sister. As down to earth as her brother is interplanetary, she is the one who will go down in the annals as the hero in this happy coda to Sly's life, provided everything stays on track. "I was persistent. I prayed a lot," she told me of her effort to cajole her brother out of retirement.

Her campaign to reclaim Sly started in earnest with their parents' deaths, which occurred within 18 months of each other—K.C.'s in 2001, Alpha's in 2003. "They both died in my arms," Vet said, "and they both told me, 'Go get your brother.' Independent of each other—not knowing. That kind of stuck with me. And it was more than just physically 'go get him.' It was 'Support him.' So I started going to Los Angeles, maybe sometimes twice a week, to see him. I went and told him what our parents said. He said, 'Find me a house.' And I did."

Sly's new compound, which I get to see a couple of months later, is in a bucolic, isolated spot in Napa Valley. The setting is more Francis Coppola than MTV Cribs, with grape arbors and topiary, but it's been Slyed up. In the driveways and garage sits an eccentric array of vehicles: the yellow chopper; a second, still bigger chopper with lightning-bolt detailing; the Studebaker, a burnt-orange Gran Turismo; a London taxi in disrepair; a Hummer that's been haphazardly spray-painted silver; and an old Buick convertible that's been spray-painted black, its front grille replaced with a rectangular length of chicken wire.

Back on the Right Track

The night of the Vegas show, after George Wallace had concluded his routine, which included some choice jokes in the "Yo mama" genre (e.g., "Yo mama's so fat, she got a real horse on her Ralph Lauren shirt!"), I watched the Family Stone take the stage, minus Sly. They played a proficient revue-style set, effectively a long medley of Sly and the Family Stone's greatest hits. But the audience was growing palpably restless; the fellow next to me was rather belligerently shouting, "Where's slyyyyy! We want slyyyyy!"

Then, sometime around midnight—the stroke of April Fools' Day—a man who looked like an extra from a blaxploitation version of Buck Rogers sauntered onto the stage. He was wearing a black knit cap, wraparound white sunglasses, outrageous black platform boots with sneaker-style laces, spangly black trousers cut like newsboy knickers, a matching spangly black jacket, and a red spangly shirt. He sat down at the Korg synthesizer parked center stage and pumped his fist.

"I don't think it's him," said a woman near me, the companion of the impatient shouter. And she had a point. The figure before us was so swaddled, layered, shaded, hatted, be-scarved, and neck-braced, it really could have been anyone. But then he went into "If You Want Me to Stay," one of his later hits, from 1973, and everyone recognized that, Omigod, Sly made the gig. The place erupted in appreciative cheers, and Stone, tentative and seemingly nervous at first, grew more confident. On "I Want to Take You Higher," he got up from behind his keyboard and boogied down the center-stage catwalk, slapping hands with members of the audience.

It was not a tightly scripted show. Stone wandered the stage between songs, seemingly taking it all in, as if re-acclimating to performing life. He brought out his daughters for their own brief turns in the spotlight. Phunn performed a rap. Novena sat at a piano and played, incongruously but with great skill, "Doctor Gradus ad Parnassum," a fast, heavily arpeggiated piece by Claude Debussy. Their father loitered behind them as they did their bits, shifting from platform boot to platform boot, beaming like a dad at a school assembly.

Stone's own segment lasted a little more than half an hour. Over the course of it, he proved that he is still a limber vocalist, ad-libbing some euphoric, gospelized melismas over "Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin)" and re-creating the scary croak of "Family Affair." But there was one mesmerizing moment that seemed lost on the liquored-up, good-timey Vegas crowd. "Stand!" began not with the rousing drumroll you hear on the record but with Stone singing a cappella in a soft, deliberately fragile voice. ("I just felt like doing it like that—so everybody could really hear it properly," he later told me.) Some of the crowd chattered through it, but to hear him almost whisper these words—

*Stand

In the end you'll still be you

One that's done all the things you set out to do Stand

There's a cross for you to bear

Things to go through if you're going anywhere*

—and to know the things he went through, the things he set out to do, the things he achieved, and the things he threw away; and then, to see him there, hunched and older but still standing, onstage, surrounded by family … well, it got to me. I misted up.

Stone is intent on getting to work on the new album in the fall, when the European tour is over. He says it will be a Sly and the Family Stone album, not the solo album. Vet's version of the Family Stone will play on it, as will his siblings Rose, who lives in Los Angeles, and Freddie, who is now the pastor of the Evangelist Temple Fellowship Center, in Vallejo.




Which is all well and good, but still: it is a tenet of rock snobbery that the founding lineup of a group must be held sacrosanct. Jerry Martini, the Family Stone's original saxophonist, joked to me a few years ago about the sadness of "reunions" that lack crucial band members. "Think of Creedence Clearwater … Revisited," he said, relishing the ellipsis. "Where are they playing? Anywhere you see a Ferris wheel!" (That said, Martini has done time in outfits called the Family Stone Experience and the Original Family Stone.)

So I put it to the main man: Is there any chance that the whole lineup from the old days will gather to play on the new album?

"I'm sure that's gonna happen, yeah," Sly says.

It almost happened last year, at the Grammys. For the first time since 1993, the year of the Hall of Fame induction, the seven original members were in the same place, and, what's more, they were poised to play together for the first time since 1971. This time, though, while Sly and his Mohawk made it to the stage, Graham fell ill and dropped out at the last minute. (His successor, Rusty Allen, filled in.)

As it turned out, Graham fared the best of anyone that night. In a bizarre miscalculation, and an affront to anyone with an appreciation of soul and rock history, the awards show's producers barely acknowledged the original group's presence. As the musicians plowed through a medley of the old hits, the cameras stayed fixed on a series of guest vocalists, who ranged from the mildly credible (John Legend, Joss Stone [no relation], Steven Tyler of Aerosmith) to the verily D-list (Fantasia, Devin Lima).

"We just kept playing, because there was really no order," says Cynthia Robinson. "There was a stage band standing in front of us, so hardly anybody knew we were there." To make matters worse, Stone had flipped his motorcycle a few days before the broadcast, damaging tendons in his right hand and making him even more uneasy with the situation than he would have been on his best day. When I ask him why the whole performance seemed so discombobulated, he says, "That wasn't my gig. Really, that wasn't my gig. I was trying to, like, cooperate with someone else that … " He pauses to find the right words: " … had their turn."

The "someone else" he's most likely alluding to, though he won't comment on him any further, is a mysterious man named Jerry Goldstein. In the deep-freeze years when no one saw Sly Stone in public—roughly from the Hall of Fame ceremony until last year—Goldstein was the man you needed to go through to get to Sly Stone: a nebulously defined manager-gatekeeper-protector. He is listed as a co–executive producer of Different Strokes by Different Folks, the obvious promotional tie-in to the Grammy appearance: a turgid remix CD of old Sly Stone tracks that features such artists as Legend, Tyler, Lima, Joss Stone, and Maroon 5. It was initially sold exclusively at Starbucks.

In Goldstein's defense, he is also listed as a co–executive producer of Sony Legacy's long-overdue series of Sly and the Family Stone album reissues, spanning the 1967–74 period from A Whole New Thing to Small Talk. These are terrific, with thoughtful liner notes, crisply remastered sound, and great bonus songs. The only problem is, Stone claims the reissues were prepared and released without his knowledge.

For all I know, Goldstein, who runs a Los Angeles–based company called Even St. Productions, was a positive influence on Stone and helped him get on the path to where he is now. But the thing is, Goldstein is even more elusive a figure than Stone. I know. On several occasions over the course of my Sly search, dating back to the 1990s, I tried to reach him, to see if Stone might be available for an interview. He never responded to any of my calls or e-mail messages.

I tried every tactic I could imagine to persuade him to talk to me, including contacting his old 1960s songwriting partners, Bob Feldman and Richard Gotteher. The three of them scored big in 1963 with "My Boyfriend's Back," a No. 1 for the girl group the Angels. Two years later, they had a hit of their own with the original version of "I Want Candy," which they performed under the alias the Strangeloves.

But neither Feldman nor Gotteher was able to help. (Goldstein, after the trio's split, went into management and production, with the funk band War his most famous client.) Finally, four years ago, I made a bit of headway when Lou Adler, who far out-ranks Goldstein in the L.A.-music-biz hierarchy, agreed to call Goldstein on my behalf. Goldstein took Adler's call, but even Adler came up empty, telling me, "Jerry says there's nothing he can say, and there's no way Sly will talk."

Goldstein didn't return a phone message this time around, either. And, evidently, his mysterious services are no longer required. Stone has a new booking agent, Steve Green, and plans on releasing the new album on his own label, Phatta Datta. Green is the only person who will betray the slightest indication of the role Goldstein played in Stone's life. "Goldstein called me and told me him and Sly are connected at the hip," he says. "Jerry said, 'Sly's not capable of playing.'"

When I ask Vet Stone what the deal is with Goldstein, she says, "As far as I'm concerned, there is no deal with him." Greg Yates, Stone's attorney, gave me this carefully dictated statement when I called him on the matter: "I've been retained by Sly Stone to represent him regarding issues surrounding contracts with other third parties for his publishing rights. There are some significant questions about certain matters that we are investigating. We want to make certain that these things are in order, so that Sly is prepared for his return. We are concerned about certain matters that he was kept in the dark about."

So much has transpired over the last 40 years that there's bound to be some untidiness and skepticism—especially in the music business, and especially in the Sly Stone business. But then, there's also delighted disbelief that Stone has come even this far. "For me," says Green, who also represents the volatile Jerry Lee Lewis, "it's a gamble that seems less and less like a gamble."

"Certainly, I have great regrets that it's taken Sly all these years to return," says Clive Davis, "but the fact that there might be a happy ending to all this is a great feeling."




View a slide show of Sly Stone and friends. Photograph by Herb Greene.

At the end of my face-to-face chat with Stone, I can't help but address something that's been nagging at me the whole time. At the Grammy Awards, he wore shades. In Vegas, he wore shades. Now, here in the front room of Chopper Guys, he's wearing shades. I'm feeling a twinge of doubt, like what that woman in Vegas felt.

"Can I see your eyes, Sly?"


"Yeah," he says, pulling down his sunglasses, revealing healthily white whites and a remarkably unlined face—the same face from Woodstock, Cavett, and the cover of Fresh. It really is Sly Stone.


 
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:


David Kamp has been a Vanity Fair contributing editor since 1996, profiling such monumental figures of the arts as Johnny Cash, Lucian Freud, Sly Stone, and John Hughes.

http://www.slystonemusic.com/


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SLY & THE FAMILY STONE ‘LIVE AT THE FILLMORE EAST OCTOBER 4TH & 5TH 1968

This four-disc set of previously unreleased live performances will be released July 17th, featuring four energetic shows from the legendary New York venue.
News

July 9, 2015
 
Premiere: ‘M’Lady’ From Sly & The Family Stone ‘Live At The Fillmore East’ – Rolling Stone


“We were at the top of our game then,” Greg Errico, drummer of Sly & The Family Stone says of the group’s 1968 stand at New York’s infamous Fillmore East. “The band was just killing it. There were moments that made my hair stand up, where that stage lifted off like a 747 and flew.”

… The entire four concert run – two shows each night in October 1968 – will be released on July 17th as Sly & The Family Stone – Live At The Fillmore East October 4th & 5th 1968, showcasing a band both fully formed and on the cusp of greatness. Exclusively at Rolling Stone, you can listen to the group’s intense and grooving rendition of “M’Lady,” from the October 5th early show.


July 7, 2015
 
Sly & The Family Stone ‘Hot Fun In The Summertime’

Listen to Sly & The Family Stone’s “Hot Fun in the Summertime” off Higher! on Spotify.


June 24, 2015
 
Sly & The Family Stone Featured In August 2015 Issue Of Uncut Magazine



Sly & The Family Stone is featured in the new issue of Uncut, dated August 2015 on sale in UK shops and available to download now. The magazine covers the early days of the band, as a boxset of their epochal Fillmore East shows from 1968 is due to be released July 17. “Sly Stone reinvented pop music in his own image,” says the Family Stone’s Cynthia Robinson.


Pre-order the four-disc box set, Sly & The Family Stone – Live At The Fillmore East October 4th & 5th 1968, now!


June 18, 2015
Premiere: Get Uplifted By Sly & The Family Stone’s ‘Life’ (Live) – Vibe


Hear Sly & The Family Stone’s live funky, organ and horn-laden performance of “Life,” exclusively at Vibe. The recording is from Sly & The Family Stone – Live At The Fillmore East October 4th & 5th 1968, a four-disc set to be released July 17 that features 34 unreleased performances from their live shows at Bill Graham’s legendary concert hall.


http://www.waxpoetics.com/features/articles/sly-family-stones-freddy-stone-discusses-stand-on-45th-anniversary/

http://www.allmusic.com/artist/sly-the-family-stone-mn0000033161/biography
 
Artist Biography by Stephen Thomas Erlewine

Sly & the Family Stone harnessed all of the disparate musical and social trends of the late '60s, creating a wild, brilliant fusion of soul, rock, R&B, psychedelia, and funk that broke boundaries down without a second thought. Led by Sly Stone, the Family Stone was comprised of men and women, and blacks and whites, making the band the first fully integrated group in rock's history. That integration shone through the music, as well as the group's message. Before Stone, very few soul and R&B groups delved into political and social commentary; after him, it became a tradition in soul, funk, and hip-hop. And, along with James Brown, Stone brought hard funk into the mainstream. the Family Stone's arrangements were ingenious, filled with unexpected group vocals, syncopated rhythms, punchy horns, and pop melodies. Their music was joyous, but as the '60s ended, so did the good times. Stone became disillusioned with the ideals he had been preaching in his music, becoming addicted to a variety of drugs in the process. His music gradually grew slower and darker, culminating in 1971's There's a Riot Going On, which set the pace for '70s funk with its elastic bass, slurred vocals, and militant Black Power stance. Stone was able to turn out one more modern funk classic, 1973's Fresh, before slowly succumbing to his addictions, which gradually sapped him of his once prodigious talents. Nevertheless, his music continued to provide the basic template for urban soul, funk, and even hip-hop well into the '90s.

Sly Stone (born Sylvester Stewart, March 15, 1944) and his family moved from his home state of Texas to San Francisco in the '50s. He had already begun to express an interest in music, and when he was 16, he had a regional hit with "Long Time Away." Stone studied music composition, theory, and trumpet at Vallejo Junior College in the early '60s; simultaneously, he began playing in several groups on the Bay Area scene, often with his brother Fred. Soon, he had become a disc jockey at the R&B station KSOL, later switching to KDIA. The radio appearances led to a job producing records for Autumn Records. While at Autumn, he worked with a number of San Franciscan garage and psychedelic bands, including the Beau Brummels, the Great Society, Bobby Freeman, and the Mojo Men

During 1966, Stone formed the Stoners, which featured trumpeter Cynthia Robinson. Though the Stoners didn't last long, he brought Robinson along as one of the core members of his next group, Sly & the Family Stone. Formed in early 1967, the Family Stone also featured Fred Stewart (guitar, vocals), Larry Graham, Jr. (bass, vocals), Greg Errico (drums), Jerry Martini (saxophone), and Rosie Stone (piano), who all were of different racial backgrounds. The group's eclectic music and multiracial composition made them distinctive from the numerous flower-power bands in San Francisco, and their first single, "I Ain't Got Nobody," became a regional hit for the local label Loadstone. The band signed with Epic Records shortly afterward, releasing their debut album, A Whole New Thing, by the end of the year. The record stiffed, but the follow-up, Dance to the Music, generated a Top Ten pop and R&B hit with its title track early in 1968. Life followed later in 1968, but the record failed to capitalize on its predecessor's success. "Everyday People," released late in 1968, turned their fortunes back around, rocketing to the top of the pop and R&B charts and setting the stage for the breakthrough success of 1969's Stand!

Featuring "Everyday People," "Sing a Simple Song," "Stand," and "I Want to Take You Higher," Stand! became the Family Stone's first genuine hit album, climbing to number 13 and spending over 100 weeks on the charts. Stand! also marked the emergence of the political bent in Stone's songwriting ("Don't Call Me Nigger, Whitey"), as well as the development of hard-edged, improvisational funk like "Sex Machine." the Family Stone quickly became known as one of the best live bands of the late '60s, and their performance at Woodstock was widely hailed as one of the festival's best. The non-LP singles "Hot Fun in the Summertime" and "Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin)" b/w "Everybody Is a Star" became hits, reaching number two and number one respectively in late 1969/early 1970. Both singles were included on Greatest Hits, which became a number two record upon its fall 1970 release. While the group was at the height of its popularity, Sly was beginning to unravel behind the scenes. Developing a debilitating addiction to narcotics, Stone soon became notorious for arriving late for concerts, frequently missing the shows all together.


Stone's growing personal problems, as well as his dismay with the slow death of the civil rights movement and other political causes, surfaced on There's a Riot Goin' On. Though the album shot to number one upon its fall 1971 release, the record -- including "Family Affair," Stone's last number one single -- was dark, hazy, and paranoid, and his audience began to shrink slightly. During 1972, several key members of the Family Stone, including Graham and Errico, left the band; they were replaced by Rusty Allen and Andy Newmark, respectively. The relatively lighter Fresh appeared in the summer of 1973, and it went into the Top Ten on the strength of the Top Ten R&B hit "If You Want Me to Stay." Released the following year, Small Talk was a moderate hit, reaching number 15 on the charts and going gold, but it failed to generate a big hit single. High on You, released in late 1975 and credited only to Sly Stone, confirmed that his power and popularity had faded. "I Get High on You" reached the R&B Top Ten, but the album made no lasting impact. 

Disco had overtaken funk in terms of popularity, and even if Sly wanted to compete with disco, he wasn't in shape to make music. He had become addicted to cocaine, his health was frequently poor, and he was often in trouble with the law. His recordings had slowed to a trickle, and Epic decided to close out his contract in 1979 with Ten Years Too Soon, a compilation of previously released material that had the original funky rhythm tracks replaced with disco beats. Stone signed with Warner Brothers that same year, crafting the comeback effort Back on the Right Track with several original members of the Family Stone, but the record was critically panned and a commercial failure. In light of the album's lack of success, Stone retreated even further, eventually joining forces with George Clinton on Funkadelic's 1981 album The Electric Spanking of War Babies. Following the album's release, Stone toured with Clinton's P-Funk All-Stars, which led him to embark on his own tour, as well as a stint with Bobby Womack. The culmination of this burst of activity was 1983's Ain't but the One Way, an album that was ignored. Later that year, Stone was arrested for cocaine possession; the following year, he entered rehab.


Stone appeared on Jesse Johnson's 1986 R&B hit "Crazay." The following year, he dueted with Martha Davis on "Love & Affection" for the Soul Man soundtrack; he also he recorded "Eek-a-Bo-Static," a single that didn't chart. Stone was arrested and imprisoned for cocaine possession by the end of 1987, and he was never able to recover from the final arrest. Stone continued to battle his addiction, with varying degrees of success. By his 1993 induction to the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, he had disappeared from public view. Avenue Records gave Stone a recording contract in 1995, but nothing would be recorded.


Album Highlights:

Sly & the Family Stone

There's a Riot Goin' On

Sly & the Family Stone

Stand!

Sly & the Family Stone

Life

Sly & the Family Stone

Dance to the Music

Sly & the Family Stone

Fresh

Sly & the Family Stone


The Woodstock Experienc …


See Full Discography

http://www.allmusic.com/album/the-essential-sly-the-family-stone-epic-legacy-mw0000227216 
 
AllMusic Review 
by Richie Unterberger
Album Pick


Discography Browser


The Essential Sly & the Family Stone does what a double-CD best-of/career overview should do: it packs a lot of career highlights into a two-disc set for listeners who want more than the basic greatest hits, but don't want every last album. Of course, all of those greatest hits are here, including a few from 1970 that didn't make it onto album releases at the time. As you'd expect, the fattest slice comes from Sly & the Family Stone's late-'60s/early-'70s peak: in fact, most of the tracks from the Stand! and There's a Riot Goin' On albums are here. The fun extras come in the not-too-well-known tracks from pre-Stand! albums and Fresh (which is actually amply represented, with six cuts). This doesn't quite deserve the highest rating, as the post-There's a Riot Goin' On material doesn't keep up the momentum of the rest of the set. Small Talk and Sly Stone's 1975 solo effort, High on You, are wisely lightly plucked, though at least the hits from those albums are the three cuts selected. This deserves better annotation than the cursory liner notes, but otherwise it's an excellent summary of a major rock and soul band. 


AllMusic Review 
by Stephen Thomas Erlewine

Fresh expands and brightens the slow grooves of There's a Riot Goin' On, turning them, for the most part, into friendly, welcoming rhythms. There are still traces of the narcotic haze of Riot, particularly on the brilliant, crawling inversion of "Que Sera, Sera," yet this never feels like an invitation into a junkie's lair. Still, this isn't necessarily lighter than Riot -- in fact, his social commentary is more explicit, and while the music doesn't telegraph his resignation the way Riot did, it comes from the same source. So, Fresh winds up more varied, musically and lyrically, which may not make it as unified, but it does result in more traditional funk that certainly is appealing in its own right. Besides, this isn't conventional funk -- it's eccentric, where even concise catchy tunes like "If You Want Me to Stay" seem as elastic as the opener, "In Time." That's the album's ultimate charm -- it finds Sly precisely at the point where he's balancing funk and pop, about to fall into the brink, but creating an utterly individual album that wound up being his last masterwork and one of the great funk albums of its era.


AllMusic Review by Stephen Thomas Erlewine [-]




Released in 1970 during the stopgap between Stand! and There's a Riot Goin' On, Greatest Hits inadvertently arrived at precisely the right moment, summarizing Sly & the Family Stone's joyous hit-making run on the pop and R&B charts. Technically, only four songs here reached the Top Ten, with only two others hitting the Top 40, but judging this solely on charts is misleading, since this is simply a peerless singles collection. This summarizes their first four albums perfectly (almost all of Stand! outside of the two jams and "Somebody's Watching You" is here), adding the non-LP singles "Hot Fun in the Summertime," "Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin)," and "Everybody Is a Star," possibly the loveliest thing they ever recorded. But, this isn't merely a summary (and, if it was just that, Anthology, the early-'80s comp that covers Riot and Fresh would be stronger than this), it's one of the greatest party records of all time. Music is rarely as vivacious, vigorous, and vibrant as this, and captured on one album, the spirit, sound, and songs of Sly & the Family Stone are all the more stunning. Greatest hits don't come better than this -- in fact, music rarely does.


THE MUSIC OF SLY STONE: AN EXTENSIVE VIDEO OVERVIEW, A CROSS SECTION OF RECORDINGS, MUSICAL ANALYSIS AND COMMENTARY, PLUS VARIOUS INTERVIEWS WITH MR. STONE:
 
Sly & The Family Stone - Dance To The Music (Audio)
Music video by Sly & The Family Stone performing Dance To The Music. (P) Originally released 1968. All rights reserved by Epic Records, a division of Sony Music Entertainment:

Sly & The Family Stone - "Dance to the Music" (Live at the Fillmore East 1968) [Audio]:


About the album:

Sly & The Family Stone-Live At The Fillmore East October 4th & 5th, 1968 is a never before released live album set by Sly & The Family Stone, which was recorded in 1968 at Bill Graham's legendary New York City venue The Fillmore East where the band performed for 2 nights. It will be released for thefirst time on a 4-CD set comprised of these concerts (two shows per night), each disc featuring one of the shows.
 
SLY & THE FAMILY STONE "Everyday People" & "Dance To The Music" performing LIVE on 'The Ed Sullivan Show' on CBS-TV--Fall, 1968:
 


 
Sly & The Family Stone - "Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Again)"- (Live 1973):
 


Music video by Sly & The Family Stone performing Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Again) -Performance Clip (1973). (C) 2013 Sony Music Entertainment:

Sly and the Family Stone - "Everybody is a Star":  


Sly & the Family Stone 6/29/69:

Sly and the Family Stone live at the Harlem Cultural Festival, Mount Morris Park, Harlem, NY June 29th, 1969. 
 
Doesn't get much better than this...
 

Sly and the Family Stone was an American band from San Francisco. Active from 1967 to 1983, the band was pivotal in the development of soul, funk, and psychedelic music. Headed by singer, songwriter, record producer, and multi-instrumentalist Sly Stone, and containing several of his FAMILY MEMBERS and friends, the band was the first major American rock band to have an "integrated, multi-gender" lineup.

Brothers Sly Stone and singer/guitarist Freddie Stone combined their bands (Sly & the Stoners and Freddie & the Stone Souls) in 1967. Sly and Freddie Stone, trumpeter Cynthia Robinson, drummer Gregg Errico, saxophonist Jerry Martini, and bassist Larry Graham comprised the original lineup; Sly and Freddie's sister, singer/keyboardist Rose Stone, joined within a year. They recorded five Billboard Hot 100 hits which reached the top 10, and four ground-breaking albums, which greatly influenced the sound of American pop, soul, R&B, funk, and hip hop music. In the preface of his 1998 book "For The Record: Sly and the Family Stone: An Oral History", Joel Selvin sums up the importance of Sly and the Family Stone's influence on African American music by stating "there are two types of black music: black music before Sly Stone, and black music after Sly Stone". The band was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1993.

During the early 1970s, the band switched to a grittier funk sound, which was as influential on the music industry as their earlier work. The band began to fall apart during this period because of drug abuse and ego clashes; consequently, the fortunes and reliability of the band deteriorated, leading to its dissolution in 1975. Sly Stone continued to record albums and tour with a new rotating lineup under the "Sly and the Family Stone" name from 1975 to 1983.
 
SLY & THE FAMILY STONE-- 'Stand'- (THE ALBUM) 1969:

Tracklist:


Stand! 3:08 
Don't Call Me Nigger, Whitey 5:59 
I Want To Take You Higher 5:22 
Somebody's Watching You 3:19 
Sing A Simple Song 3:55 
Everyday People 2:20 
Sex Machine 13:48 
You Can Make It If You Try 3:39


Sly & The Family Stone - Dance To The Music (Audio): 
Music video by Sly & The Family Stone performing Dance To The Music. (P) Originally released 1968. All rights reserved by Epic Records, a division of Sony Music Entertainment:


Sly & The Family Stone - "Dance to the Music" (Live at the Fillmore East 1968) [Audio]: 


About the album:

Sly & The Family Stone-Live At The Fillmore East October 4th & 5th, 1968 is a never before released live album set by Sly & The Family Stone, which was recorded in 1968 at Bill Graham's legendary New York City venue The Fillmore East where the band performed for 2 nights. It will be released for thefirst time on a 4-CD set comprised of these concerts (two shows per night), each disc featuring one of the shows. 


SLY & THE FAMILY STONE "Everyday People" & "Dance To The Music" performing LIVE on 'The Ed Sullivan Show' on CBS-TV--Fall, 1968: 


Sly and the Family Stone - "Everybody is a Star" 


Sly & the Family Stone 6/29/69:

Sly and the Family Stone live at the Harlem Cultural Festival, Mount Morris Park, Harlem, NY June 29th, 1969. 

A black-and-white photo of Sly Stone, with a large Afro underneath a large hat, leaning against a wall and glancing to his left.