Prog Digest – An Xperience Column

Prog Digest – An Xperience Column – by Klyde Kadiddlehumper.

Decidedly, we’ve not recently had any Hot Fun in the Summertime – but we have been able to Dance to the Music.

Once again, circumstances, music, and other little bits have all been put in the cosmic blender that keeps things fresh in Klyde’s head.  Here’s how this one goes.

For folks of an age, the songs up front are a small representation of one of the most progressive, funky, soulful, psychedelic, and ultimately self-destructive forces in music.

Sly and the Family Stone.

Famed San Francisco Chronicle music critic Joel Selvin once wrote that “there are two types of black music: black music before Sly Stone, and black music after Sly Stone”.  Perhaps more true words have never been written.

Starting out as a gospel singer, Sly recorded and released a local 78 single with his siblings Freddie, Rose, and Loretta under their given name, “The Stewart Four.” It was the foundation of not only a music career but also his writing as a profound lyricist.

The amalgamation of his band, Sly & the Stoners, and brother Freddie’s band, Freddie & the Stone Souls, became Sly Brothers and Sisters … then Sly & the Family Stone.

The first major American integrated band. Male, female, black, white.

Sometimes I’m right and I can be wrong

My own beliefs are in my song

The butcher, the banker, the drummer and then

Makes no difference what group I’m in

I am everyday people, yeah, yeah

The band broke up for the usual rock and roll reasons.  Squabbles, drugs, etc.

Now, while this may seem a bit out of the blue, there is, as always, sometimes, perhaps, maybe rhyme and reason to Klyde and these bits of ink.

Many years ago, early on in the beginnings of Xperience Monthly, Dick Beach interviewed Felicia Collins from the Letterman Band on CBS.  Klyde caught the notice that she was doing Sly & the Family Stone Greatest Hits (and more) on a Wednesday night in NYC.

Hooky was played, train tickets bought, room booked, and Constant Companion and I were off.  Dinner in Koreatown, show at The Cutting Room.  Hot damn.

The room – packed.

The guest list – Paul Shaffer, Chris Knowles, Valerie Simpson, Cyndi Lauper, and, most importantly, Felicia’s mom.

Felicia and the Throwdown killed.  The music was awesome.  The stories – better.

A late ‘60s/early ‘70s love fest.  I mean, how many of us wore out at least one, if not more, copies of Sly’s Greatest Hits?

Turn on, Tune in, Drop out.

Free love. You know, free as in beer. Free as a bird.

Free as in Xperience Monthly – where we believe if there is a membership fee, it’s a club, and we don’t want to join.  Besides, then the paperwork gets even messier than running a regular business.  Oh, and just how into the weeds do you want to go?  The only weeds we want any part of are the kind you pick the stems and seeds out of and smoke.  There is now a field where a small third-world country once was, that Klyde smoked up in the ‘70s … but I digress.

How’d we get here?  Somehow, it seems that now is a time we ought to think about what Sly had to say.

He was right.  We are just Everyday People, Dancin’ to the Music, and I Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Again).

Maybe we ought to turn down the noise and rhetoric, tune into peace, love and understanding (what’s so funny ‘bout?).  Cause Sly was right in 1971 when he released “There’s a Riot Goin’ On.”

Until next time.

Klyde

 

 

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