When everyone zigged toward segregated bands and predictable lineups, Sly Stone zagged into territory that terrified the establishment. The remarkable, eccentric frontman of Sly & the Family Stone died Monday in Los Angeles after battling lung disease, according to his family. Revolutionary concept, right?
Born Sylvester Stewart in Denton, Texas, Stone moved to California as an infant and was recording gospel music with his siblings by age 8. But gospel couldn’t contain what was brewing inside this musical alchemist who would eventually hack the algorithm of American consciousness decades before Spotify existed.
The magic happened when Sly merged his band with his brother Freddie’s in 1966, creating the first major American group that was both racially integrated and mixed-gender. “The band had a concept — white and Black together, male and female both, and women not just singing but playing instruments,” Stone wrote in his 2023 memoir. “That was a big deal back then, and it was a big deal on purpose.”
You know that moment when a song hits so perfectly it rewires your brain chemistry? That’s what “Dance to the Music” did in 1968. But here’s what made it revolutionary: Larry Graham’s percussive bass technique—slapping and popping strings to create rhythm and melody simultaneously—literally invented the bass sound you hear in everything from hip-hop to modern funk. That bass response you feel vibrating through your chest during any decent funk track? Thanks, Sly’s crew.
Beginning with “Dance To The Music,” which peaked at No. 8, Sly and the Family Stone racked up 17 Hot 100 hits. Their rhythmic innovations became the DNA for sampling culture. From Public Enemy’s “Fight the Power” to Kanye’s “Through the Wire,” countless hip-hop producers have mined Stone’s catalog like digital archaeologists.
Their early morning performance at Woodstock in 1969 was widely recognized as a legendary moment in a legendary concert. Picture this: 5 AM, exhausted festival-goers sprawled across muddy fields, and then Sly Stone materializes like some funk messiah, transforming a sleepy crowd into a writhing mass of pure joy as the sun rises. “It felt like church,” Stone wrote in his memoir. “The horns went up into the sky.”
Stone pioneered the use of fuzz boxes and wah-wah pedals in ways that made guitars scream with emotional intensity—techniques Prince’s funk guitar style would later steal wholesale. The multi-tracking vocal arrangements on “Family Affair” created conversational layers that anticipate how your brain processes TikTok audio collages.
But genius often comes with shadows. Stone eventually fell on hard financial times and would later be plagued by health issues and even homelessness. The same creative fire that forged classics like “Family Affair” and “There’s a Riot Goin’ On” consumed its creator, a common story among musicians who sabotaged their success.
Questlove’s tribute to Sly Stone, who directed this year’s documentary “Sly Lives! (AKA The Burden of Black Genius),” wrote today: “Sly was a giant — not just for his groundbreaking work with the Family Stone, but for the radical inclusivity and deep human truths he poured into every note.”
The influence runs deeper than your favorite playlist algorithms could calculate. Stone’s great records inspired Miles Davis to pioneer jazz fusion and Herbie Hancock to incorporate electric instruments and funk grooves into jazz; Prince and the Red Hot Chili Peppers and the Roots have all covered Sly & the Family Stone songs. Today, his tracks appear in over 47,000 Spotify playlists labeled “Classic Funk” or “Old School Soul.”
Stone recently completed a screenplay about his life story, which his family plans to share with the world. Even at the end, the visionary was still creating, still pushing boundaries like he’d done since that first gospel recording at age 9.
Your funkiest playlist exists because Sly Stone dared to imagine music without borders—racial, sexual, or sonic. That’s the kind of revolution that outlives any revolutionary.
