Sly and the Family Stone: Stand!

admin on Aug 31st 2005

As the first mainstream act to integrate not only both sexes, but different racial backgrounds, by reaching their creative peak amidst the crumbling ideology of the Sixties, Sly and the Family Stone ensured that their breakthrough to a mainstream audience was a timely one. When the sweeping harmonies of the title track open the album with a burst of rousing, motivational niceties, one would be forgiven for thinking that “Stand!” is going to be the wishy-washy sentiments of a bunch of soulful happy campers. Yet when the song suddenly closes out on a loaded funk break, cruising into the considerably risqué (for the time) “Don’t Call Me Nigger, Whitey,” it soon becomes clear that the group’s funkified rhythms can make the switch from anthems of good vibes to edgy social commentary at the drop of a hat.

Saturated with Wah, its pumping horns stabbing away behind the simplest of refrains, “Don’t Call Me…” is one of those songs that will have you singing along the first time you hear it. Being one of the more jam-orientated tracks on the album, however, it’s guilty of building up to an unnecessary climax, dragging itself on when it would have been more effective as a track half its length. On the other hand, if a track like “I Want to Take You Higher” runs long, no one will be complaining. As three different vocalists deliver their lines one after the other, the combination of a dirty, distorted bass-line and the excited whispers of “boom-acka-lacka-lacka-boom” provide the song with a chugging momentum, becoming a rip-roaring display of funk that shifts the gear of the album up once more.

The two-step dynamic of moving from the light and dreamy to spectacular breakbeats repeats anew when the simple, pleasant charm of “Somebody’s Watching You” paves the way for “Sing a Simple Song.” Along with Funkadelic’s “Can You Get to That?”, this has to be one of the greatest funk songs of all time, and easily considered an icon of the genre. Its springy riff is as recognisable as it is infectious, rolling along while the entire track is infused with an energetic array of different elements: the clean Blues sound to the twanging guitar, the stretching wheeze of the jazz horns, the Gospel-like interplay of the vocals – it all adds up to something that’s indisputably funky.

Next up is the even more identifiable “Everyday People,” its uplifting shimmer made famous not only by Arrested Development’s hit cover version, but by its frequent placement in television commercials. With its positive, sing-along quality feeling like it’s come from the pages of a preacher’s sermon book, this song typifies the softer, smiley side to “Stand!”. In contrast, “Sex Machine” could not be any more different. A sprawling, gritty instrumental, Sly Stone rides its coasting, repetitive groove with a sound that appears to be his vocals being fed through a harmonica before filtered by a guitar talk box. Notching a track time upwards of fifteen minutes, it does something to send the album’s peak into a sharp comedown, leaving you wishing that climax could be drawn out – ironic, given that the song itself is designed to be a soundtrack to love making (and wouldn’t seem out of place in a porno).

Finishing with “You Can Make It If You Try,” “Stand!” would appear to be book-ended by another heartening message, but the track actually forms a hybrid of the album’s two templates. While having the same spirit of the elevating “Stand!” and “Everyday People,” the song is also punctuated brilliantly every now and again with mouth-watering breakdowns – the kind that would be sampled countless times by hip-hop outfits ever since. Though James Brown is the only other act that could be credited with the birth of funk more so than Sly and the Family Stone, the latter’s polished form of songcraft gave way to a more widespread appeal, inspiring even the likes of Miles Davis…and that level of influence speaks for itself.