We so revere our heros, especially the ones that helped us through our formative stages of youth. It’s difficult to imagine that anyone with a song played on the radio then or now is living anything less than the American dream of fame and fortune. After living in Los Angeles for more than half of my life and meeting many of my musical heros, I can tell you that perception is so far from the truth it’s laughable. Take the case of one the masters of 60s funkiness, Sly Stone.
Recently Variety ran an article about Sly’s legal and financial problems that have literally relegated him to a life based around the Chris Farley joke of living in a van down by the river.
While the article goes into some detail about Sly’s finances, the gist of it is that the man made millions, did a lot of drugs, made some bad business decisions, did a lot of drugs, and didn’t pay his taxes. As a result, here’s a guy whose songs are still popular more than 40 years later, and he hasn’t much to show for it (unlike his management, attorneys and the IRS). What makes it worse is that Sly and The Family Stone was one of the first really major crossover hits between white and black audiences, much beloved by both, with a legendary Woodstock performance that will live forever in a seminal movie. Talk about influential!
Like I said before, I’ve lived a good part of my life in Los Angeles, and being in the music business, I’ve been able to meet and work with many of my heros, many others who’s work I’ve admired greatly, and many who have had hits and would be thought of as quite successful as a result. The majority of them are also not wealthy, well-to-do, or even prosperous today, even though they may have had a windfall at some point in their lives.
It really hurts to meet someone who’s songs are still heard frequently on some form of radio, who’s helped to make a real difference in the music world, and yet see them scrambling for their next dollar, not much different from the rest of society. In many cases they’re way over the hill and past their prime, essentially unemployable in the music business today. That’s not the way it’s supposed to be, at least in a fan’s mind.
The problem is that we musicians (I’m a recovering musician myself) are an optimistic bunch at heart. When times are bad, we always expect them to get better, probably tomorrow when the phone rings. When things are good, we expect them to get better, probably later today when the phone rings. When they’re great, we expect them to last forever (“Tell him I’ll call him back later”). As so many older artists, musicians and producers now know, that’s not the way life works. That roller coaster ride is usually the 15 minutes or less of fame we hear about. Here today and gone tomorrow.
We’re all mortal, despite the hit records, awards and adulation. Our needs and wants are pretty much in line with those we play for, except for the temporary creative spark that comes through us that many seem to appreciate, maybe more than is reasonable. We are you.
The problem begins when both artist/musician and audience begin to believe that’s not the case and instead think that there’s a gap in importance in the grand scheme of things, because then our expectations increase to the point where we become disappointed when we see our heros struggling just like us. That’s doing a disservice to all concerned, artist and fan alike, because in the end, we’re all in the same van down by the river.
