By MYQ Farrow
(Image above: Sly & the Family Stone, Sly Stone second from left. Distributed by Epic Records, Daedalus Management, and William Morris Agency, Inc. Photographer uncredited and unknown., Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons)

(Editor’s note: When Sylvester “Sly” Stone died Monday, June 9, at age 82, we asked MYQ Farrow, leader of the neo-soul band Farrow and a member of The Buffalo Hive Board of Directors, to offer his thoughts on what Sly meant to American music and American culture)

Last year, Questlove released a film on Sly and the Family Stone — Sly Lives! aka The Burden of Black Genius.

Sly represented a culmination of cultures coming together: the sacred and the secular, the conventions of white rock ‘n’ roll mixed with the grooves of R&B race music. Sly performed an alchemy rooted in blending all of what it meant to be an American — an artist who crossed racial barriers, grounded in our common humanity.

In that way, it reflects the kind of music I make — where the genres I’ve grown up with all pour into each other. Where my music defies genre, Sly’s music defined genres.

Funk wouldn’t exist without Sly Stone. His legacy can’t be overstated. Without him, there would be no Prince. Without him, there would be no hip-hop — to be honest. Sly played a crucial role in shaping the sound of all popular music that came after him.

Sly meant so much to so many. Over time, he became a caricature of himself, largely due to drug use and competing with the very genre he helped create. I couldn’t imagine the pressure of defining a genre and then hearing all the subsequent genres that followed it. I wonder if K-Rab feels some kind of way when he hears artists making snap-country songs.

But that’s the burden of inventing a genre — of popularizing it across racial lines — and still ending up broke, because the music industry game isn’t played fairly.

Sly’s passing reminds me to appreciate all the artists who are creating convention-defying, original work that pushes the world to be bold and hold to our shared humanity. Every summer heralds the season of cover bands — and Sly was one that we tried to play like, like the Family Stone.

“Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin)” is the most ironic song I’ve ever covered — I mean, seriously.

So maybe let us remember Sly by creating something new or innovative today — because original art matters. Check in on your artist/musician friends. They need connection and community just as much as their art creates that kind of space.

The trailer for SLY LIVES! (aka The Burden of Black Genius)