Music Reissues Weekly: Sly and the Family Stone - The First Family: Live At Winchester Cathedral 1967

The remarkable The First Family: Live At Winchester Cathedral 1967 represents the first-ever release of a previously unheard recording of a 26 March 1967 Sly and the Family Stone live show. It is the earliest document of Sly and Co. to surface.

At this point, the band had not yet signed with Epic Records. The release of their debut album A Whole New Thing was just-over seven months away. "Dance to the Music" would – in its second wind, following its November 1967 release – became a US hit single in March 1968. After this: world-wide success, Woodstock and everything else. The First Family arrives not long after the death of Sly Stone – on 9 June this year – and is a timely reminder of Stone’s standing and status. Self-evidently, this is an important album.

What became Sly and the Family Stone began rehearsing in November 1966. Everyone in the new band had a musical track record: Sly Stone (born Sylvester Stewart: vocals, harmonica and keyboards at this point), Gregg Errico (drums), Larry Graham (backing and lead vocals, bass guitar), Jerry Martini (saxophone, trombone), Cynthia Robinson (backing vocals, trumpet) and Freddie Stone (Frederick Stewart: backing vocals, guitar, trombone, trumpet).

Following a clearly intense – judging by the short span, it had to have been – period honing their sound and style, the new band’s first live show was on the 16 December 1966 opening night of the Redwood City – south of San Francisco – venue Winchester Cathedral. At this point they were billed as “Sly Brothers & Sisters.” The night spot was, bizarrely, named after the New Vaudeville Band hit single.

By the end of the year the name had changed to Sly and the Family Stone. They regularly played Winchester Cathedral into June 1967, when they signed with Epic. After a fire, the venue closed the next month. The full story of this phase of Sly and the Family Stone, Winchester Cathedral, the songs heard at this show and the ins and outs of the 26 March tape are gone into with admirable clarity and thoroughness in the highly readable, abundantly illustrated and smart booklet coming with the album. This is a text-book example of how to do an archive release.

Listening to each of the ten tracks raises the question of whether the soon-to-be memorable Sly and the Family Stone sound can be heard so early in the band’s life. On the face of it, scanning the tracklist suggests the answer would be no. No, as what the tape captures is a repertoire comprising cover versions of soul songs of varying familiarity: “Show Me,” “What Is Soul?” “I Can’t Turn you Loose,” “Try a Little Tenderness,” “Baby I Need Your Lovin’,” “Pucker up Buttercup.” Judging by the reaction of the audience, these songs were known. It’s also pretty likely those there were acquainted with the band through its residency at the venue.

However, it turns out that performing recognisable songs did not limit creativeness or chances to extemporise. There are – limited spoilers here – twists and turns into exactly what Sly and the Family Stone would bring to the world. There’s only one non-cover – album opener “I ain’t got Nobody (For Real).” As it begins, Sly Stone declares “this is an original tune.” It explicitly points to the future and in time, with some rearrangement, would end up on the Dance To The Music album. It’s fun to wonder whether if, a year or two on, any Winchester Cathedral regulars cast their mind back to what they’d seen, heard and danced to when this band was a purely local phenomena. (Pictured left, Sly and the Family Stone in Redwood City’s Stulsaft Park, January 1967. Left to right: Jerry Martini, Sly Stone, Cynthia Robinson, Larry Graham, Gregg Errico, Freddie Stone)

As to what the audibly lively audience experienced – the band is incredibly tough and driving. It doesn’t matter if it’s Motown or Stax material, or a Ben E. King or Junior Walker & The All Stars song, or even the slow-burning “Saint James Infirmary" with its extraordinary, free-wheeling showcase of Cynthia Robinson’s trumpet and drummer Errico’s invention, the band on stage has its own take on soul. Errico’s almost martial yet quasi-funky drumming is key, as are Graham’s bubbling bass and Freddie Stone’s spiralling guitar. Sly Stone’s Hammond organ pumps and vamps while the wind players insinuate themselves into each melody. There are no carbon-copy cover versions. This not a showband.

The source tape – a professionally recorded four-track reel – required detective work to render it playable. After careful restoration, the resultant sound is a little boxy but clear with, despite less-than ideal microphone placement, first-rate definition and separation between instruments and vocals. It is astonishing that this has survived, let alone – after judicious work – is of releasable quality. Get this. It’s a must.

• Next week: The Most Up Till Now - A History 1966-1970. Five-CD box set of California hippie-pop band The Peanut Butter Conspiracy
• More reissue reviews on theartsdesk
• Kieron Tyler’s website

@kierontyler.bsky.social