In the wake of Sly Stone’s death at age 82, Living Colour guitarist Vernon Reid made the case for why Sly and the Family Stone deserve a place at the top of the canon of American bands. Here it is, in his own words.
I would make the argument that there isn’t a band of greater import. In terms of impact and the kind of shift they created, there isn’t a greater American band. Everything was different after they appeared. Their influence is obvious and very, very subtle. Their influence in terms of the way they made their music, the things they said in their music, the hope that they engendered, the evolution of “rock star” as a difficult personality — all the things, good and indifferent, Sly and the Family Stone are the alpha and omega of it.
The bands of the Sixties were creating the times that they were responding to. That’s the thing that’s so wild about bands of that era. They were responding to something that they were also making happen.
Sly waded into the middle of a very tumultuous and explosive time in racial relations. He was making music in a time in America where people were very divided. He was making music in a time when entertainment and the culture of entertainment were changing. The shine was on all the British Invasion bands, and he really took the momentum back. There was Motown, but Motown was very formal — tuxedos, very respectable. He came at the thing from a uniquely American perspective. He wasn’t imitating those groups, but he studied what was happening with the British Invasion bands. The way he used choral harmony in what he was doing with the Family Stone was very much in line with what was happening with the Beatles and the Beach Boys. But he brought it in his own context. He was able to bring precision and abstraction together in a way that was unprecedented.
There isn’t a more American song than “Everyday People.” “Everyday People” isn’t sentimental; it’s not “We Are the World.” It looks at the way we don’t get along and it says, well, “Different strokes for different folks.” And it also says, “We got to live together.” It doesn’t say we have to hold hands and sing Kumbaya. It doesn’t judge where anyone is coming from. It just lays out who we are and at the end of it says, we got to live together. “I am no better, neither are you.” That’s very provocative. “We are the same, whatever we do.” It’s revolutionary.
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He came at a pivotal time and he said things to America and Americans and to the world that they needed to hear. They may not have liked “Don’t Call Me N—-r, Whitey,” but he went there. That’s the other side of “Everyday People” — demanding respect on his own terms. It’s very powerful. He didn’t flinch. He wasn’t accommodating. He did what he did, dig it or don’t dig it.
It’s easy to understate Sly Stone’s influence on popular music. Of course he’s a great songwriter. He had an unusual, revolutionary take on the American experience. But there’s the small things: Just the way he used his voice as almost like an envelope filter, like the sound of “ow” and “wow” — that sound that you hear on Sugarfoot with the Ohio Players or Maurice White with Earth, Wind and Fire. That sound starts with Sly. That sound that you hear in Cameo, that use of voice as almost like a wah-wah pedal — that starts with Sly in pop music.
The electric bass taking center stage in different ways than James Jamerson’s did. The use of the thumb on the bass, bass turned into practically a percussion instrument as well as a melodic instrument, as well as a rhythmic instrument, as well as a harmonic instrument — that starts with Larry Graham. Bass guitarists from Victor Wooten, all the technicians, Stanley Clarke — Larry Graham is patient zero of that. That’s the beginning of that. When you hear Louis Johnson [of the Brothers Johnson] and on down the line, all the acrobatics — that starts for real with Larry Graham.
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The idea of a mixed race and mixed gender band — he had two women who were vocalists. His sister Rose was a keyboardist as well as singer. Cynthia Robinson had a trumpet sound as distinct as any in pop music. Her sound and her approach — I think she’s woefully underrated because she didn’t play jazz. But her sound is as identifiable as Miles Davis or Louis Armstrong. Her trumpet playing is not generic. It’s very specific timbre, very specific color to her playing. That horn section, there are only two, and the blend is incredible. And Freddie Stone, he was almost the power behind the throne. It’s not just that Sly was a singular genius — that band was incredibly impactful.
He was the original code-switcher. He was very articulate. He had a brilliant mind, but he also was connected to Oakland and everything. His ability to see the connections aside from the divisions — he saw connections in music.
He was aided in that effort by having extraordinary collaborators in the band. He was able to utilize them to all of their greatest strengths. He just went with what people gave him. He went with what worked. His band members were completely devoted to his vision and they brought their extraordinary talents to bear.
He was able to wield nostalgia, like “Hot Fun in the Summertime.” Even when I was a kid, that felt like the perfect summer that nobody actually ever had. Every day is sunny and the family’s not fighting and everything is cool. He gave that to us. He was able to wield emotion in songs as well as his intellect. “My only weapon is my pen/And the frame of mind I’m in/I’m a songwriter, a poet.” That is tremendous.
He was a visionary. He’s the textbook example. When people say visionary, Sly Stone, Sylvester Stewart, was that, in many obvious and subtle dimensions. Certainly hearing “Family Affair” for me was seismic. I never heard anything like it, and it was like hearing “Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds” at the time when I was a kid. I’m the same age as Prince, and I know Prince heard this music the same time I did. I relate to Prince so much because we’re the same age. So he heard James Brown’s Revolution of the Mind [Live at the Apollo Volume III] at the same time. We heard There’s a Riot Goin’ On at the same time.
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Even though [1973’s] Fresh was the end on a level, it’s like a Hail Mary from beyond. Nobody is supposed to be able to come back like that after they’ve kind of undone everything, but he did, in a spectacular way.
Sly gave us so much more than whatever his deficits were. If you think about his influence on Prince alone — and his influence goes far beyond that. And it’s still having an influence today.
