Cherry Ghost - Sly And The Family Stone

Written By: Cherry Ghost

It had to happen eventually…

Sly and the Family Stone
House of Blues, Sunset 4/26/08

Braving the Sunset strip is never an easy task. I avoid it as much as I possibly can. But when I was presented with the last minute opportunity to see a legend, nightmares of silicon breasts, peroxide hair, manufactured tans and frat boys all disappeared. My secret jealousies and hatred toward friends trekking out to the desert for Coachella melted away. I would be in sweet sweet air-conditioned splendor listening to the grooves of Sly. IN YOUR FACE COACHELLA WHORES!

After a makeshift Lynchburg Lemonade (limeade instead of lemonade) I was whisked up and away to the heart of Saturday night the Sunset Strip.

I have come to discover that any place, no matter how much despised, can be thoroughly enjoyed when shared with the right people. I love to watch people. To hypothesize about the thought process which brought someone to the conclusion that the velour-leopard-print-two-piece-pantsuit (two sized too big) would be the perfect outfit for this 90 degree spring evening. Or what drew that gentleman to purchase the aloha-style shirt with the saying “get ‘er done” emblazoned sporadically on it in neat cursive letters.

Was it the pairing of two of his favorite things, Hawaii and Jeff Foxworthy? Also, a new game was invented: Spot the worst possible (yet slightly believable) version of your friends… ten to twenty years from now. You should play it. Especially the next time you find yourself on the Sunset Strip.

Our game had time to develop and spread to neighboring groups of people as we waited TWO LONGGGGGGGGG HOURS for Sly to grace us with his presence. When he finally walked on stage, he took the mic and attempted to blame his tardiness on his manager, claiming he was told the wrong time.

Your manager told you that you would be starting your show at 12:30 instead of 10:30? UH… there is something not QUITE believable about this claim (and by “not quite” I mean “not at all”).

He also informed us that IF he could refund us our money he would, as he would GLADLY play the show for free… I’m still waiting for that refund. We waited another 10 minutes or so for the band to actually start the set. And what a shaky, shaky set it was. I’m still not sure what the first song was.

When “If You Want Me To Stay” started, I felt my heart begin to flutter as this is my personal favorite. That flutter was quickly abated when the song crumbled around the edges, becoming a shadow of what I had once loved. Then a bazaar version of “Hot Fun in the Summertime” – which involved throwing one-hundred dollar bills into the audience (a thinly veiled bribe) for their participation in singing the chorus. The song went on, and on, and on… After a messy version of “Everyday People”, Sly informed everyone that he needed to take a restroom break – at which point Mr. Holiday and I informed everyone that we needed a restroom break as well… but actually quietly snuck out the back (and by “quietly snuck out” I mean “complained loudly while knocking over tables of drinks and kicking anyone we could in the shin”).

It was 1:15am. Those who stayed said that the night only got weirder. And not in a fun awesome way that made us regret our decision to leave before the end.

The lesson could be: Let legends live in the past where their true genius shined. But I know this not to be true – as I was fortunate enough to see James Brown at the Hollywood Bowl the summer before he passed away. I was not disappointed. I did not leave early. His songs sounded just as amazing as his records. I could even forgive him (and actually found it kind of charming) when he used a teleprompter on some of them… If I had that many songs, I would need a teleprompter too.

The lesson is: Always tag a long with those who enjoy making secret-fun of others. You’re bound to have a great time, no matter what!

Oh, and I would give you pictures of the earlier mention outfits, but Stupid House Of Blues doesn’t allow photographic equipment. I know this because the last time I went they tried to confiscate my phone. I will only go back there to see Kanye West by personal invitation. Mr. West… if you are reading this, I would like to come to your show at the SHOB. If you ever put one on there. Thanks.