Birthday Blips: Sly Stone

Instead of examining the life of a musician born today, I am turning my focus inward. Events in the world can often do this, driving me to look within myself to make sense of things. Images and stories of what is happening at this very moment on the other side of the world confuse and anger me--and they are only images and stories. I cannot even begin to grasp the realities the people affected are now facing or how something like that can happen. Although even music can seem trivial in the face of such tragedy, I will turn to it as I have so many times in the past when needing something to give me comfort and hope.

I've mentioned my interest in musical influences in past columns and how I am fascinated with this aspect of music appreciation; today's musician immediately brings to mind one of the biggest influences one can have. Sly Stone was born on this date (3/15) in 1943, roughly ten years before the person who first exposed me to his music, my mother.

My mom is the mother of six children, of which I am the oldest. She spent my childhood with an infant in one arm and a growing number of growing children in her sight. Looking back as an adult and father of one, I have no idea how she did it, even having witnessed her do it. I guess that's what amazes me most about my mother: how she raised all six of us (born within ten years of each other) without a single complaint or sign of struggle. It never looked hard, so my young mind never appreciated all the work it must have been. Even now this amazes me.

In the same unassuming way, my mother influenced my love for music. Although never playing an instrument or taking a vocal lesson, my mother has loved singing and dancing for as long as I can remember. With respect, I will say she does not do either very well, but with more respect I will add she does both with genuine joy. Even today, when a song she enjoys comes on the radio, she will start cheering and dancing along, singing the lyrics with about 50% accuracy.

If I had to describe my mother's taste in music, I'd say "fun". She likes music that gets her moving, regardless of the genre or era. As recently as this past Halloween she arrived as Lady Gaga, earning her the nickname Granny Gaga from her four grandchildren who loved dancing with her to the latest pop sensation's tunes. It never takes much to get her out on a dance floor, or to make whatever floor she is standing on into one. She'd be the first to admit she does not have selective musical taste--liking whatever makes her feel good. One song that does this better than most is Sly and the Family Stone's "Dance to the Music". Whether it be while folding laundry or at a wedding, when this song plays, my mom will be the first to get up and lead anyone willing to participate in a dance.

My mom once told me how great it was that I loved music, and how much she enjoyed seeing me try out instruments and learn to appreciate all kinds. She also admitted knowing little about most of it and wondering where my passion came from. Even after telling her so, I don't think she realizes how much of it comes from her, from growing up watching someone genuinely enjoy the power of rhythm and melody and the community that appreciating these sounds can create. Fittingly, Sly Stone named his group "The Family Stone," and the song I referenced as one of my mother's, and now my, all-time favorites illustrates this community building aspect of music perfectly. The song begins with a drummer "for people that only need a beat" and builds from there. Guitar, bass, organ, and horns all gradually join in, one verse at a time, building up to a call to "Dance to the music". Not complicated or profound, but powerful nonetheless: musicians joining together to make a song, people joining together to dance to it.

Tragedies in our lives and in the world around us can be overwhelming. Thinking of the horrors in Japan breaks my heart. I feel guilty and arrogant sitting comfortably in my chair writing about music with what is happening on the other side of the globe. I know music cannot change it or prevent future disasters from occurring, but as I sit here and think about what my mother and the music she helped make me love does for me, I hope others can find comfort in music during hard times--not by retreating into it as an escape from reality, but by recognizing it as a way to feel united with and embrace the global family that includes us all. I'm very grateful to have been raised by a mother who taught me this without even trying.

Comments

[James Dugan]

Great tribute to your mom. I hope she reads it. Upbeat music with a life and hunger all of its own. It was good listening. It is good to remind ourselves why we truly need music and it is not always for background fuzz. Sometimes it truly is the reason for being, if only for a little while.

I miss the times when I just sat down to listen to a song. Today it seems I must be doing something when music is on. I just want to sit back and feel its powers in the way it connects us all. So that is what I am going to do and then call my mom.

I wish the people in Japan all the support and comfort my prayers can give them.