Sly Lives! (aka the Burden of Black Genius)

Wow! Absolutely phenomenal storytelling of the rise, fall and everlasting impact of the musical genius, Sly Stone! This documentary poses the question, is Black Genius a burden? That is, did society's attempt to pigeonhole Sly Stone to be THE SPOKESPERSON/CELEBRITY for the Black community, who is expected to align to the Black struggle/issues, create inner turmoil that led to Sly Stone's emotional and physical breakdown and musical retreat. Some of those interviewed think that may have been the case. White artists, on the other hand, have freedom to experiment with different musical genres and different personas (think David Bowie/ Ziggy Stardust), and Madonna (and her many reincarnations), without having to walk this line of aligning their celebrity/music to be THE-SPOKESPERSON for their communities. Thus, did this duality become a burden that contributed to Sly's insecurities, drug-fueled lifestyle and ultimate downfall? Questlove does a great job of trying to answer the question and highlighting Sly Stone's musical genius. He documents his rise from a San Francisco DJ to a true trailblazer in forming a multi- racial, male/female band that fuses, rock, R&B, and the Brits sound. Questlove opens the vault and presents a treasure of archival tapes and interviews with Sly Stone and his band. And there are plenty of current interviews with the band members and musical artists who have been heavily influenced by Sly Stone. It's evident Sly will and has had a lasting impression on the world of music and many musical protégés, including Prince and many rappers, who are still sampling his music today. The documentary ends on a bittersweet note, as Sly Stone is shown as he is today. A frail, elderly man, who is pictured alone and with his children and grandkids. However, his music is forever. Sly Lives!

Watched at the 2025 Sundance Film Festival.

I'm unfamiliar with the Sly and the Family Stone but while this documentary isn't as powerful or impactful as Summer of Soul, Questlove still shines a bright light on the soul and rock vibes with an interesting presentation and exploration of the band and what made them special. Presented with good uses of archival footage and interviews, Questlove really shows how much for his love for 60s and 70s rock and roll and the components help offer a good examination to give context to the period, the music, and the background.

The historical contexts of Black artists rising through the early times have been impactful with todays' culture and Questlove does it well. Compared to Summer of Soul, the impactful doesn't feel as strong as because Sly and the Family Stone isn't a band I know a lot, the connection and emotional bond doesn't feel as strong as I would have liked and found myself feeling a bit disconnected with some of the concepts and themes.

Nevertheless, Questlove offers another solid documentary musical character study.

Follows a very standard bio-doc template... rise-fall-redemption. But I really liked the thread of black genius and the pressure placed on America's very best black performers. Most of the archival interview footage with Sly Stone was really compelling. He has a very good way of expressing himself meaningfully without capitulating to the awful questions people asked him. Right at the midpoint of the film, around the time when Sly Stone's run of genius albums is about to take a darker, inward turn, there is an interview clip of Dick Cavett interviewing Stone, with Cavett being a total, well, dick. Sly's response properly shames Cavett... and all us as well.

This is fine and will do the job as placeholder. It's in the standard format of blending clips, stills, archive footage, with contamporaries being interviewed, to take us through a famous life, the ups and downs and perhaps lessons involved.

Here it's Sly Stone, who oould have been a Prince of sorts. Theatric, multifaceted, but it was the civil rights years, and his creative life mirrors that trajectory; ebullient hope to transcend boundaries, to bitterly dashed dreams.

One lesson, and it's generally offered, is that there was no scaffold, blueprint, on which to know what to do build next, how to play the role of superstar. He, along with everybody else, had to make it up as they went along. Another talking point here is 'black' genius, the particular tolls of it in a world where boundaries are drawn starkly against you.

There may be parallels with someone like Brian Wilson; 'genius' in being able to perceive music as visual world, as shared streets you explore, but limited in the means, work, and focused commitment required to consistently bring it to life.

At least his Riot album is as important as anything from the time, a dissonant extended improvisation on previous fabric of soul music, and that as mirroring a dissonant collapsing America. It's probably a cornerstone for all black music that followed.

My own takeaway is of a man who in terms of vision was second to none of the greats of the era; adept at improvising self, savvy enough to be able to see the larger fabric.

But there's no real stage for him to move to, fails to transcend, and probably had plenty of reasons against him. The drugs were probably ways to dissociate, make believe he was what he couldn't summon. So he periodically returns as caricature of himself, clowning it for the camera, unsure how to be the next version of himself.

Meanwhile, just as he was cratering, Bronx and Harlem youths were rediscovering him in record stores, and were about to speak once more about what he used to; the world of stark limits, and yet somehow joyful dance, ironically cruising through cracks. Interestingly, the new music, hip hop, would eschew the whole band format, and pare it down to narrator and rousing, sometimes soulful breaks that suggest world.

This fascinating look into the musical career of Sly Stone. The genius gets overused, but it should be applied to Stone, a DJ, arranger, producer, songwriter, and performer. His Family Stone is one of the few projects that was wildly inventive and insanely catchy. And the reification of a specific social ideal of unity that transcended pablum. Yet, the pressure of success, the increasing availability of drugs, and the special burden placed on Black artists (too successful - you're not legit, not successful enough - you out) led to Sly becoming a parody of himself. While the film doesn't shy away from the downside, there is more disturbing material that could have been included. Those stories have been told, and it is time to focus on a particular moment in music history that was defined by Sly.