Remembering Sly Stone: The Rise, Fall, and Legacy of a Music Icon
Sly Stone in 2015
Photograph: Tim Mosenfelder/Getty Images
Sly Stone, the iconic American musician renowned for his electrifying funk and socially aware lyrics, has passed away at the age of 82. According to a family statement, Stone died peacefully after a prolonged struggle with COPD and other health complications, surrounded by his three children, close friends, and extended family. His family expressed both sorrow and gratitude, stating, “While we mourn his absence, we take solace in knowing that his extraordinary musical legacy will continue to resonate and inspire for generations to come.” Known for influencing generations of music lovers and dance floors alike, Stone's contributions to the music world remain undeniably profound.
Sly Stone, a pivotal figure in funk, is best known for his groundbreaking work on three foundational albums—four if we include his flawless 1970 compilation, Greatest Hits. Despite his remarkable contributions to Music, Stone's later years were marred by a dramatic fall from grace that many viewed as a betrayal of his immense talent. His struggles with drug abuse became painfully visible during numerous dishevelled television appearances. At the same time, his once-infallible hit-making prowess dwindled as tensions within the Family Stone led to their estrangement.
Yet, Stone's imperial reign over funk spanned nearly a decade, producing a discography that stands as a high-water mark for the genre. His influence on pop music is undeniable, having repeatedly redefined the structures and essence of dance music. As an icon who embodied hope and pain, Sly Stone's journey resembles that of Icarus—a figure who soared high only to confront a tragic downfall. Nevertheless, in his prime, he undeniably took flight in a way that resonated deeply with audiences.
Upon his arrival, Sly Stone's brilliance was so remarkable that it seemed impossible ever to fade. This confidence stemmed from knowing he had experienced failure before achieving success. The Family Stone's debut album 1967, A Whole New Thing, boldly fused elements of psychedelia, soul, funk, and rock into a groundbreaking sound. Still, it overwhelmed audiences, leaving them baffled. However, the following year, the group found their footing with Dance to the Music, which offered a more streamlined approach. The title track and the sprawling 12-minute *Dance to the Medley* effectively called the world to dance, and audiences responded enthusiastically.
Sly and the Family Stone. Photograph: GAB Archive/Redferns
Sly Stone quickly became a ubiquitous presence in American pop culture. He dazzled audiences alongside his sister Rose on The Ed Sullivan Show, where they united a nation fractured by racism, the Vietnam War, and generational divides with the simple yet powerful message of "L-O-V-E." His iconic performance at Woodstock showcased his electrifying presence, adorned in glitter and platform boots, captivating a generation in a split-screen concert film that struggled to contain his energy.
As the late 1960s unfolded, a series of hit singles showcased Sly's ambitious vision, culminating in the release of Stand! in 1969, his first truly perfect album. The title track emerged as an anthem of Black empowerment, resonating universally with its infectious funk breakdown. Meanwhile, *Everyday People* celebrated the hope of integration, reflecting the Family Stone's diverse, multi-racial, and multi-gender essence. In the provocative track Don't Call Me N*****, Whitey voiced the frustrations fueling civil unrest across America. At the same time, the profound Sex Machine would later inspire the direction of Miles Davis's electric experiments in the 1970s.
Sly Stone, pictured on the Warner Brothers lot circa 1970 in Los Angeles, California. Photograph: Michael Ochs Archives/Getty Images
The year closed with another significant achievement: the standalone single Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin), featuring Larry Graham's revolutionary bass technique of slapping and plucking strings with a percussive intensity. This piece shifted to heavier street music, moving away from Sly's previous messages of peace and hope to something more introspective and confessional. Earlier that summer, *Hot Fun in the Summertime had captured a fleeting moment of joy amidst protests and riots. However, Thank You laid bare the internal struggles Stone-faced, articulating the dilemma of youth in a turbulent era: "Dyin' young is hard to take / Selling out is harder."
In 1969, Sly Stone faced immense pressure as he confronted the spectres of death and artistic failure. While many artists might have faltered in such dire circumstances, Stone harnessed the challenge and channelled it into his defining masterpiece. However, the brilliance of his work also foreshadowed the turmoil ahead.
The 1971 album There's A Riot Goin' On was crafted during fragmentation for the Family Stone. Sly spent long hours in his home studio, heavily influenced by drugs and surrounded by fellow musicians. The sessions were chaotic, marked by a blurred line between creativity and confusion. "We never planned anything – I just walked in and saw a microphone and a guitar and started playing with him," soul legend Bobby Womack recalled in 2012. "There was a riot goin' on, alright – it was at Sly's house!"
In There's A Riot Goin' On, the vibrant energy that characterized earlier Sly Stone records gave Way to a murky, disorienting sound. The production, strained by excessive overdubs, overshadowed the melody and clarity that fans had come to expect. The album's hit single, "Family Affair," features Stone's slurred vocals, conveying emotion despite the muddled lyrics. Meanwhile, songs like "Runnin' Away" and "(You Caught Me) Smilin'" retained Stone's lyrical brilliance but reflected a darker tone. A reimagining of "Thank You," retitled "Thank You For Talkin' To Me Africa," transformed the original's lively bass line into a slow, eerie groove that emphasized the album's haunting atmosphere.
Stone became a fixture in his studio, more dedicated to recording than performing live. However, his absence from the stage became increasingly noticeable. He continued to tinker with the sound of 1973's Fresh, obsessively stripping back layers in search of a raw, minimalist funk. While tracks like "Skin I'm In" offered a glimpse of Stone's comfort and self-acceptance, encapsulated in the love song "If You Want Me To Stay," the chaos surrounding him intensified. The Family Stone ultimately disbanded after the release of 1974's Small Talk, widely regarded as when Sly's genius began its descent into obscurity. Although the album showcased a few strong tracks, it largely lacked the cohesiveness and strength of earlier efforts.
Sly's artistic output began to wane as his personal life unravelled, including a marriage that ended two years after a celebrated onstage wedding. His 1975 solo album High On You contained memorable tracks like the synth-driven title song and the funk-infused "Crossword Puzzle." However, 1976's Heard Ya Missed Me, Well I'm Back, which was marketed as a Family Stone reunion, felt more like a solo effort than a revitalizing comeback.
After moving to Warner Bros for 1979's Back on the Right Track, Stone managed to capture fleeting glimpses of his former magic with the hit "Remember Who You Are." Yet by 1982, with the release of Ain't But the One Way, it was evident that Sly Stone's well of creativity had run dry, leaving behind an unmistakable legacy overshadowed by personal struggles and artistic decline.
Sly Stone, once a luminary of the music world, gradually faded from the spotlight as he battled the devastating effects of crack cocaine, legal issues, and homelessness. Throughout his struggles, he would sporadically emerge, igniting hopes for a triumphant comeback album that many believed his legacy warranted. However, this notion is challenged in Ahmir “Questlove” Thompson’s documentary, Sly Lives – The Burden of Black Genius, which posits that expectations for Stone's resurgence may have been unreasonable. After all, he had already contributed immensely to music and culture and had earned the right to leave to find peace.
As he poignantly reflected in his earlier anthem, “Stand!”, “In the end, you’ll still be you / One that’s done everything you set out to do.” Unfortunately, the weight of his burdens ultimately grounded him, a stark contrast to the heights he once soared to. Few artists have reached such extraordinary heights, making his journey all the more poignant.
