To be called a “pioneer in black music” isn’t at all easy. You have to be good; you have to be different and be doing something that’s basically unheard of. That’s a reasonably accurate picture of Sly and the Family Stone.
In the blasé world of 60s mainstream pop, and to a slightly lesser extent, modern black pop, you didn’t have to be revolutionary. You just had to sound nice and look nice and not wake anyone up.
Black and white audiences were also dazzled by the glamour and skills of Motown and Atlantic artists. In jazz, Miles Davis had made a few points about technical music and new sounds. Things were pretty sedate.
Into this environment came Sly and the Family Stone. They first came to prominence with the funk anthem “Dance to the Music.” It was a repetitive attention-getter, and deliberately so. It was also a complete departure from the Motown Sound.
It wasn’t slick; it was gritty. It wasn’t a cure; it was physical. It was also a complete departure from the glitz-heavy arrangements of the time. This turned out to be the hallmark of Sly and the Family Stone. They’d try anything, and they did. They appeared at Woodstock and fit right in.
Technically, the phrasing was also very different. Brief phrases turned into funk. Leads switched between instruments. Hook lines came out of anywhere. The famous “Boomshakkalakka” was part of the song I Want To Take You Higher and has been a staple, almost a complete cultural statement ever since.
Sly was the front guy and driving “entity”, but his band were no slouches either. Watch any video, listen to any album, and you’ll hear a rash of musical ideas, particularly live, when they have a chance to jam. Simply describing the range of styles and innovations would take a book.
The “eventually iconic” album Stand was also a legacy album for future generations. The album produced quite a few singles, but as usual with Sly and the Family, just dig around and you’ll find other gems, such as “Sex Machine,” which has to be one of the most undersold and underrated guitar/bass tracks of all time.
This was also a pretty tough time to be a frontline black musical icon. The Watts Riots and a fluctuating range of what we’d now call “hood” issues upped the ante for artists. You couldn’t just wear an Afro. You had to mean something. The song Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin) is maybe some sort of definitive statement.
This is roughly where the career track for Sly gets complicated. Things got bumpy. Meanwhile, funk took off, a bit belatedly. The Sly and the Family Stone sound started popping up everywhere, in various forms. This opened up the field for a lot of innovation, experimentation, and just fun stuff. It’s the direct ancestor of hip-hop, rap, and just about all modern black music since. Just listen. You can hear it, still there, still playing strong. There were never any compromises.
I’ve been listening to Sly and the Family Stone since early high school, and I still do.
Thank you, Sly.
