Charts: US #1, US R&B #1, CAN #4, JPN #59, UK #31. US: Platinum; UK: Silver.
PP Arnold:
I heard about Sly when I was in the Ikettes, touring with Ike and Tina Turner. He was a DJ playing the Beatles and the Stones alongside Ray Charles, soul and R&B. The Family Stone were into fusion, and it felt very connected to unity, peace and racial equality. They were the first band to have a multiracial lineup of men and women. When Sister Rose [Stone, vocals] joined for Dance to the Music and did those great gospel harmonies with [the girl group] Little Sister, it changed the whole sound. They had hippy psychedelic pop, soul and rock. Every album got funkier and they changed the scene. They sang about the truth of what was going on.
Towards the end of the 60s, civil rights, the Martin Luther King assassination and Vietnam affected everybody, and the drugs came in and changed things. You’d hear about death-threat rumours, gangsters, rip-offs. Sly had fallen out with the original band, and on songs like Just Like a Baby you can hear his vulnerability. (You Caught Me) Smilin’ is sad even though he’s smiling, because he’s lost. The drugs changed Sly’s voice, so on There’s a Riot Goin’ On there’s a gravelly, haunted vibe. It’s urban blues, but the love, innocence, fun and harmony is still in there.
Greg Errico, drums, Sly and the Family Stone:
All the stories about the Riot sessions are true. It was a tumultuous time. The group was splintering and there was huge pressure on Sly to make another record just as we were breaking up. We had cut Family Affair and Thank You For Talkin’ to Me Africa with the original band the year before. Then Sly wanted to do it all himself, maybe realised it wasn’t such fun but couldn’t back down.
It went from a traditional studio to the attic of his house - with all the chemicals. He’d knock on my door at 3 or 4am and say: “Come on, I’ve got this part. Get up, let’s start recording!” Other times he’d call the sessions off. Eventually I stopped going, which got him into using the drum machine. It was the kind of thing the guy in the lounge of the Holiday Inn would use to make lame music, but Sly used it very creatively. Starting the machine’s rhythm on an off beat turned the beat inside out and gave a unique sound.
The music was darker because times were darker. When I first heard the finished album, I had a little attitude - “He should have stuck with us” - but gradually I realised it was really creative and lyrically he was talking about what was going on. I started listening with a smile on my face.
Steve Vai:
When I was nine or 10, Sly and the Family Stone’s Greatest Hits felt like an awakening, but even at that age it was obvious to me that there was a profound shift in the music for There’s a Riot Goin’ On. Later in life, I saw how that record was a perfect storm. It was driven by the political protest and social transition at the time, but also his inner demons and vast departures in the production technique.
Sly was on a paranoid downer and started surrounding himself with thugs and marching to the beat of his own drum, alienating the band and bringing in Ike Turner, Bobby Womack and Billy Preston. Often, when a band or artist undergoes a big transformation, they can be a little bit more raw and honest. It can be both quasi-disastrous and have great merit, and that’s how I see Riot. His brilliance snuck through the debris.
(full version: theguardian.com/music/2021/dec/02/a-nations-fabric-unravelling-stars-on-sly-stones-theres-a-riot-goin-on-at-50)