Sly Stone and the Sanctified Church

Abstract

It has become much of a truism that the generation of black Soul artists from the late 1950s and early 1960s—figures like Ray Charles and Sam Cooke—formed the critical components of the mainstreaming of the black church aesthetic, if not black popular culture in and of itself. Surely, when the Edwin Hawkins singers logged a major crossover hit with “Oh Happy Day” in 1969, they could point to the aforementioned artists as well as Mahalia Jackson’s historic appearance at the 1955 Newport Jazz Festival as laying the groundwork for their success. By the late 1960s, the black church was correctly understood as the foundation for the dramatic social movements that had coalesced around demands for civil rights and antiwar activism that aimed to transform the political and cultural landscape of the United States during the period. And from this perspective it was perfectly logical that Aretha Franklin—daughter of a prominent black minister—would emerge as one of the most popular artists of the decade. Less remarked about, though, is the role of Sly and the Family Stone in introducing the black church aesthetic to pop music audiences. When the group debuted in 1967 with A Whole New Thing the title could have been a reference to range of things, including the interracial and cross-gendered makeup of the band.