Sly Stone, the kaleidoscopic but troubled genius who turned San Francisco into the pulsing heart of funk-rock with his groundbreaking band Sly and the Family Stone, died on Monday, June 9, in Los Angeles. He was 82. 

The trailblazing musician who transformed popular music in the 1960s and early ’70s and beyond with such hits as “Everyday People,” “Stand!” and “Family Affair,” passed away peacefully, according to a statement from his family, after a “prolonged battle” with chronic obstructive pulmonary disease and other health issues.

“Sly passed away peacefully, surrounded by his three children, his closest friend and his extended family,” said the statement. “While we mourn his absence, we take solace in knowing that his extraordinary musical legacy will continue to resonate and inspire for generations to come.”

Born Sylvester Stewart on March 15, 1943, in Denton, Texas, and raised from infancy in Vallejo, Stone’s journey from Pentecostal gospel prodigy to countercultural icon defined an era of musical transformation and social upheaval. 

“Sly was a monumental figure, a groundbreaking innovator, and a true pioneer who redefined the landscape of pop, funk, and rock music,” the statement said.

He was the second of five children in a close, religious family who became “Sly” after a teacher mistakenly spelled his name “Slyvester.”

Vallejo remained a touchstone in his life and career, where his early talent emerged through church music and adolescent doo-wop outfits.

By his early 20s, Stone was a Bay Area fixture — spinning genre-defying sets as a disc jockey at KSOL in San Mateo, and producing hits for local acts at Autumn Records. He had a gift not only for performance but also for collapsing boundaries, musical and otherwise. 

Through his radio industry connections, Sly Stone began producing top San Francisco acts, including the Great Society, the band Grace Slick fronted before joining Jefferson Airplane.

Working alongside early mentor and local DJ Tom “Big Daddy” Donahue, he produced a mix of rhythm and blues and rock hits — among them Bobby Freeman’s “C’mon and Swim” and the Beau Brummels’ Beatles-inspired “Laugh, Laugh.”

At the same time, he was quietly assembling his own group, drawing in family members and local talent, eventually naming the band Sly and the Family Stone in 1966.

“Sly’s sound was totally integrated, not just musically, but sexually and racially,” wrote former Creem magazine editor and music critic Dave Marsh. “Everyone did something unexpected, which was the only thing the listener could expect.”

Its lineup, diverse in race and gender, embodied the spirit of its city and its time. The group’s blend of rock, funk, soul and psychedelia birthed anthems like “Dance to the Music” and “Higher.” 

Their vibrant sound, forged in San Francisco clubs and immortalized on the mud-slick stage at Woodstock in 1969, helped rewrite the DNA of American pop.

Between 1968 and 1971, Sly and the Family Stone released a groundbreaking run of albums — “A Whole New Thing,” “Dance to the Music,” “Life,” “Stand!” and “There’s a Riot Goin’ On” — that both captured and challenged the spirit of their time.

While their music pulsed with joy and communal energy, it also hinted at the turbulence beneath the surface. With a sharp awareness of social unrest and disillusionment, the band infused the optimism of the Summer of Love with a gritty realism that signaled the cultural shift already underway.

Stone’s legacy echoed far beyond the Bay Area. His innovations in multi-tracking and drum machines laid the groundwork for artists like Stevie Wonder, Prince, Michael Jackson, Red Hot Chili Peppers and hip-hop pioneers like Outkast and the Roots.  

“Sly created the alphabet that we are still using to express music,” said the Roots drummer and  filmmaker Questlove, who documented Stone’s life in the recent film “Sly Lives: aka the Burden of Black Genius.”

But the same intensity that fueled his artistry also led to a spectacular unraveling. 

In the 1970s, amid growing paranoia and drug use, his music darkened, and Stone’s once-electric live shows became sporadic or nonexistent. The landmark album “There’s a Riot Goin’ On” captured this shift — a brooding, drum-machine-driven masterpiece reflecting the national mood and Stone’s inner turmoil.

By the 1980s, Stone had receded into infamy and isolation, his public appearances more cautionary tale than triumphant return. 

Sly and the Family Stone were inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 1993 and honored at the Grammy Awards in 2006.

But after the early 1980s, Sly released only one album: “I’m Back! Family & Friends,” which mostly featured updated versions of his earlier hits.

He lived at times in motels and vans, battling addiction and chasing legal claims for unpaid royalties. But his influence remained magnetic, his sampled grooves a bedrock of hip-hop and funk revivalism.

In recent years, Stone had resurfaced in fits and starts. His memoir, “Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin),” published in 2023 with help from Questlove and co-author Ben Greenman, offered a sharp, playful account of his storied past. 

“You couldn’t take turns with freedom,” he wrote. “Everyone had to be free all the time or no one was free at all.”

Stone had three children, including a daughter with Family Stone trumpeter Cynthia Robinson. In 1974, he wed actress Kathy Silva on stage at Madison Square Garden, a marriage that ended in divorce shortly afterward.