I Want to Take You Higher_ The Life and Times of Sly & the Family Stone - Jeff Kaliss [79]
After the expected wait, Sly descended from an upper floor, comfortably dressed in loose clothing and a knit cap. He seemed in a mood befitting the warm, bright weather outside. In fact, he insisted on our leaving the mansion and getting the interview started inside his 1958 Packard, with him driving, so that he could take the classic car into town and get it washed. We walked out to the vehicle, which was stationed alongside the terraced vineyard. The Packard was colorful, shiny, and solid, the way rock 'n' roll was a long time ago.
This time around, Sly was comfortable having me record him. He was quite cogent and cordial, and he drove carefully along the narrow roads winding through the pastoral landscape.
He began by talking about social and political issues, noting that he'd never voted. "I've wanted to," he maintained, "but I never know who's who till after it's over. And everybody always switches up on me. I don't want to think that I voted for someone who's doin' shit." Regarding the 2008 Democratic primary, Sly offered, "I'm thinking that these Clintons would not be so likely to goof up too much. How could Bill and Hillary both do two fuckups?"
"The ability of people to fuck up repeatedly, in the same way, is incredible," I responded from the passenger seat. "It goes on a lot. And you never know when somebody is reformed...."
Pause. Sly seemed unswerved, and I switched gears.
"If you were to get out there with the whole band or most of it, would you be wanting to play all the same music you played back then, or would you be wanting them to do some of your new music?" I knew he'd been hard at work upstairs in the mansion, particularly in the wee hours.
"It would have to be the new music as well."
"In the touring you've been doing since you and I talked at the beginning of last year, it seems like audiences are yelling for you to do the old stuff. Do you ever get a little tired of it?"
"Well, yeah, they like the old stuff, but they don't know any better, so it's up to me to get the new stuff recorded, to give them reason to want to say, `Hey, what about the new stuff?' Until then, I'm glad they like the old stuff."
"You didn't get an album out last year. Will you have one out this year?"
"It really depends on some business that's gotta be dealt with first. It'll be on my label, or on Clive's [Davis], wherever Clive is. He hasn't committed himself; I just hope so. Clive is my favorite guy in the business.... It'll all come together, and there will be a lot of help, as soon as I get the records starting to be heard. That always attracts the concern of people that know how to do things for ya."
"What are you gonna have to ask for that you don't have already?"
He hesitated. "I don't know. Nowadays I don't know how they do it, as much as I used to. I'm gonna release some things on the Internet anyway, see what happens. David Bowie and everybody else, they do that. Gotta see what's up."
After a fuel stop, Sly turned the wheel over to Neal and repositioned himself on the backseat. I gave him a sealed envelope bearing his name, which had been presented to me in Hawaii by his former manager, David Kapralik. Sly chuckled, opened the envelope, and read the note.
"Ilili," he murmured. He'd noticed David's Hawaiian nickname, which translates literally as `a blooming nut, and is David's metaphor for a man who went to seed and has started to grow, and blossom, all over again. "That's the way it is," Sly added softly.
"I think he still sees you as soul mates."
"I like David."
"Any words you'd like me to pass back to him?"
"Tell him I said, `Book a gig!" Sly replied, smiling broadly.
"But could we get him off Maui?" I inquired rhetorically.
"Do the gig in Maui!"
I brought up my recent conversations with Sly's two female collaborators in his high school group,