This is one of those memoirs that frustrate the hell out of me.

While it's fascinating to read about someone with prodigious talent and their climb to the top, it's also painful and irritating to watch the inevitable downfall because the prodigious talent is set aside for prodigious appetites for sex, drugs, and belief in your own press.

Is Sly talented? God, yes. I love those songs, those albums. And, throughout this book, you still see he's got an incredible gift for words and writing. He makes the wildest, most amazing verbal connections, and there's a wonderful rhythm to his narrative style.

And yet, once we get into the 1980s, it's disheartening to watch him make excuse after excuse, mistake after mistake, poor choice after poor choice, yet try to spin it as, well, that's just me being Sly.

I'm sure there's also a lot of far more uncomfortable truths that were left unspoken, or excised prior to publication.

It's fascinating to read about those with world-spanning talent. But it's awful to read about how the talent, the possibilities are squandered.

It's worth the read, for sure. ( )

Just so sad. If you ever wondered where the brilliant Sly Stone went, this chronicle sends you down with him, into an almost fifty year drug odyssey, starting with a few successful and pressure-filled years and then into a long, slow drag. What he, nor the book, can't explain is why, except for the pressure to maintain his standing on the charts and to keep the Family Stone together. His early years as a DJ and band-former, songwriter, master of so many instruments, innovator of funk, are so joyous. His chronicle of who tried to save him and how many times they tried, his love life, his children, is just tedious. He complains about his bad reputation, for always being late or not showing up - and then proceeds to admit to the many times that he earned that rap. Perhaps talent has an expiration date, and we know that the public has a tiny attention span. Most memoirs would not be as honest, so at least there's that. But not much more. The foreword by Questlove stands alone as an excellent almost-eulogy for Sly and the band.

Quotes: "When I went out into the world, I was surprised to see people who weren't carrying instruments. I wasn't sure what they did instead."

"I might have been a little late and a little out of date." ( )