Sly & The Family Stone: There's A Riot Goin' On (Remastered + Expanded) CD Track Listing

A list by checkmate

Sly & The Family Stone There's A Riot Goin' On (Remastered + Expanded) (1971)
There's A Riot Goin' On (Remastered + Expanded)\n2007 Epic/Legacy\n\nOriginally Released November 20, 1971\nCD Edition Released 1988 ??\nMillennium Remastered CD Edition Released December 2002 \nLimited Deluxe Edition Collector's Box Set Released March 20, 2007\nRemastered + Expanded CD Edition Released April 24, 2007\n\nAMG EXPERT REVIEW: Strange things happened to Sly and his Family Stone between the wild celebratory party and tour that followed the release of Stand! and the beginning of the trip into the studio that yielded There's a Riot Goin' On. Stand! was released in 1969 to critical and public acclaim and became a hit financially. It was followed by a long, fruitful tour that included a triumphant appearance at the Woodstock festival. The band recorded two singles in between albums. The first was "Hot Fun in the Summertime," issued in August 1969. It hit the number two spot on the Billboard chart. Its follow-up was the funk monolith "Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin)," which went to the top of the Billboard chart. It's important to note that neither of these cuts are available on the 2007 Legacy reissues of Sly's Epic catalog even as bonus cuts, since they were recorded without a specific album in mind, but rather as tracks to keep the band on the radio and in the public consciousness. This was a period when the band, once a communal troupe through and through, began to live in different places. Sly was living in a rented mansion once owned by John and Michelle Phillips, getting loaded all the time and missing concert dates on tour. According to Joel Selvin's excellent liners, Sly canceled 26 out of 80 dates. During the two-year break between records, Sly wasn't exactly laying in bed. He was recorded all the time, even if what he was recording, and with whom, produced nothing substantive. He bought a primitive drum machine and began experimenting with it. Different bandmembers, most notably bassist Larry Graham, would show up at different times to add parts to songs and find themselves mixed out of the proceedings. Through the madness that went on in the mansion and at Record Plant, where Sly would park a Winnebago and party and record at the same time, a recording began to come together. Before a three-night stand at Madison Square Garden, Sly offered the album to Epic. Credits are sketchy as to who did what, though when Graham or Freddie Stewart are present, their parts are unmistakable. The album's first single was "Family Affair," a skeletal track on which Billy Preston played keyboards, the drum machine counted rhythms, and Sly and Sister Rose sang, according to Selvin's notes, through cupped hands, as there were no vocal treatments. It's a strange, disorienting tune with an infectious melody. It's the seduction for an album that is a nightmare journey through disillusionment, with racial and class politics, a resignation to drug addiction and to the nightmare of trying to ruin one's life in the face of reigning chaos and the pressure of the four preceding years. The tune, like the album it comes from, seems to drift with no center, no anchor except that drum machine. Sly sounds weary even if he pretends an optimism. He's resigned, and stating a simple truth, that "blood is thicker than mud." Remember this was the Vietnam era. The slippery funk and Preston's killer fills give the track its irresistible riff. "Luv N' Haight" is a dark, fractured funk tune that passes its own judgment on the new Aquarian Age with insulations and allegations that nothing much has changed. Still, its arrangements are killer. There's a ton of space between instruments, but the whole is cohesive, slithering, sliding, and greasy. It's night-time gospel from the pusher's living room. Other places here are nearly impenetrable. The music becomes so dense. Legend has it that Sly overdubbed and overdubbed until things bled out into the margins, leaving a muddy, sludgy sound to permeate the record's grooves. If the earlier, joyous psychedelic funk sides were a reflection of optimism and possibility, There's a Riot Goin' On's sound is one of entropy, the sound of the funk caving in on itself and the hope of a generation falling into a place of darkness. This is after Malcolm X, Dr. King, and Bobby Kennedy, after the escalation of the war, and more recently, after Kent State. Sly and his collaborators are circling their wagons and projecting grooves inwardly here, though they still manage to reach outside themselves. Even on "Just Like a Baby," the weariness in the keyboards and Greg Errico's drums are barely enough to keep up the heroin-sounding groove. It's all slow, slow, slow. And if a child is being celebrated, it's from some emotionally distant place. The shimmering funk of "Africa Talks to You" is led off by the drum machine again and Freddie's guitar, with fills on keyboards by Graham, Sly, and Preston; it trips, stumbles along, and nearly falters, but the groove stays intact. One can here in the falsetto Sly employs here, and in their staccato lines and choruses, where Prince snagged his entire thing from. "Brave & Strong" is simply the tough funky bassline and a horn head; everything else is layered underneath for the first 30 seconds: "I've been down/Ain't got a friend/You don't know/Who'll turn you in." This is a far cry from "I Want to Take You Higher." The slow, wispy soul that sounds like it's drifting in from a distant radio somewhere is what introduces "You Caught Me Smilin' (Again)." It's an unabashed hymn to getting high. Sister Rose's voice is all sweet, and at first so is Sly's, but as the horns and bassline come stepping in, Sly's voice gets heavy and is distorting in places deliberately. The delicate keyboard lines, luxuriant and in the pocket as they are, cannot keep the voice contained. There's a minimal instrumental break in the tune and it suddenly fades just as it emerged. "Time" is a blues where spooky keyboards haunt Stone's voice on the fringes as he expounds on the concept cynically. The blues and urban soul meet here under a cloud, through the haze, and the listener is a left at the gate of the audio speakers, trying to hear her way into this sound world. The world's political situation at that time -- and much more so right now -- was inaccessible to the masses, especially the young: "The universe seems to be a little stronger/Time is shaped in the hands." The set picks up, just as you are so completely sucked into the dark murky grooves on "Spaced Cowboy," which is a travel tune in that its circular grooves actually go somewhere and is deeply cohesive despite attempts at tape manipulation and chaos. Its melody and yodel are satirical perhaps, but Sly is dead serious. "Runnin' Away" is one of those beautiful jazz-funk tunes where muted horns, a funk and pop bass belie what is nearly a nursery rhyme tune: "Runnin' away/You're wearin' out your shoes." It breezes by, but it never stays long enough for the listener to get inside it; it's all fluid in slow motion travel. The original set ends with "Thank You for Talkin' to Me Africa." It's over seven minutes and begins in a menacing, backbone-slipping FONK stepper: get close, let the bass speak to the drums, the guitars translate, and the rest can come and go as it pleases. Vocals are more ritualistic chant than song. The words "thank you falettinme be myself again" come through the middle, but the other lyrics are almost impenetrable and it becomes a spiritual cousin to Dr. John's "I Walk on Guilded Splinter," but more seductive and thicker, like cough syrup, like opium tar, like surrender. This is the mirror image of Marvin Gaye's "What's Goin' On," released in the same year as plea for dialogue and forgiveness and togetherness in solving problems. It's the embodiment of frustration, weariness, isolationism, and the desire of letting things fall apart. And while it may be disturbing and narcotic to listen to, it's an absolutely essential exercise in the kind of funk that belies, underscores, and amplifies life's circumstances. That funk can be the music of the anti-party as well as the genesis of the thing itself. [The Legacy edition with its expert remastering makes the original album considerably less muddy. And while it may sound a bit like a different recording than the original, one has to consider that with all the overdubbing that went on with the limited number of original tracks, this might be closer to what Stone wanted rather than settled for. There four bonus tracks, including the single version of "Runnin' Away" and three instrumental jams recorded during the creation of the album, none of which has been released before. And while these final tracks are illuminating regarding the long and labyrinthine process it took to get the record made, one has to wish that Sony would have included the two singles that preceded it, "Hot Fun in the Summertime" and "Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin)," for the sake of continuity and completion of the period.] -- Thom Jurek \n \n\nAmazon.com Editorial Review\nCertain albums both define a specific point in time and yet manage to be timeless. Such an album is There's A Riot Going On. After a few records of sexy, sunny, but never cavalier funk/pop, the twisted genius of Sly Stone turned dark, moody, reflective, angry, but no less funky for the contemplation. Stone created an album that spoke not only to the turmoil gripping America in 1971, but also to the chaos whirling around his increasingly druggy personal life. This is an album of dangerous beauty, where even the hit ("Family Affair") is guarded and haunting. --Amy Linden\n\n\nAmazon.com Customer Review\nStone Exceptional, January 3, 2004\nReviewer: Jeffrey Rubard (Beaverton, OR US) \nHaving risen up through the ranks of nothing in particular (the loosely organized California soul scene), Sly Stone scored big in the late 60s with his Family Stone -- an integrated rock/soul combo which seemed to have nothing in particular to say but a lot of energy with which to say it. The much-critically-acclaimed *There's A Riot Goin' On* is not a documentary, as some have suggested: instead, it puts the question to the listener "What exactly did you think was goin' on?", then eliminates some easy choices with its relentlessly bleak aesthetic. But this is not music about or for public edifices, and the question of Stone's responsibility as an artist is not as easily raised as some once suggested.\nThere's still room for everyone here -- your life could be a "bwomp" on "Poet", and maybe there's something to be said for that -- but Stone seems to be intent on hollowing out the wreckage of the '60s to reveal the structure of a field of production he successfully operated in to no particular end. \nThis involves all and sundry, including Sly, doing things they aren't supposed to waiting for something to happen. Is it critical that the domestic release of this is poorly mastered? Honestly, this is a record you could stand not to have a "critical edition" of: if there is an upshot to *There's A Riot Goin' On*, it's that nobody should ever be in as much pain as Sly Stone must have been experiencing making this record. \n\nBut dare you savor that pathos? No, this is a record to be experienced sparingly, and easy assimilation of Stone to any particular movement is perhaps unwise for other reasons.\n\n\nAmazon.com Customer Review\nScary, disturbing, brilliant, September 23, 2001\nReviewer: Michael Topper (Pacific Palisades, California United States) \nThis is not a review so much of the CD release (which, as noted, is unremastered and completely devoid of liner notes), but of the album itself, which even in the poor CD issue comes off utterly brilliant. "There's A Riot Goin' On" sounds like a junkie's suicide note--a fractured, slurred, jittery funk stew that comes across as one big blur of depression. Sly's vocals on this album are absolutely harrowing; he sounds beyond\nthe end of his rope and attempting to find catharsis in a state of utter dejection. This overall feel makes the album a sometimes frightening listening experience, especially on the slow, meandering tracks "Just Like A Baby" and "Spaced Cowboy", whose sluggish melodies and rhythms are almost too painful to bear. However, Sly never abandons the funk at the heart of his music, which keeps the album musically interesting--the bass lines are some of the best-ever in rock. The hit singles "Family Affair" and "Runnin' Away" pack a serious punch, coloring their ominous lyrical portraits with a tight pop savvy. Elsewhere, the off-kilter groove fest "Luv and Haight" (featuring the immortal line "feel so good feel so good don't want to move") sounds filtered through about fifty different chemical substances, and the closing remake of the earlier hit "Thank You" slows the funk down to a devilish heat. Coming at a time when Marvin Gaye was painting his social prayer "What's Going On" in sublime symphonic gospel tones and Stevie Wonder was about to break through with his unique keyboard-oriented vision on "Music Of My Mind", "There's A Riot Goin' On"\noffered the bleakest angle on black America's state of mind at the close of the countercultural era. It remains an R&B/funk masterpiece and presaged The Rolling Stones' similar statement from the UK side of the fence on "Exile On Main St."\n\n\nAmazon.com Customer Review\nThe Original Apocalyptifunk Album, March 28, 2001\nReviewer: "dmccabe@ncee.org" (El Cerrito, CA USA) \nA powerful album from the Sly and The Family Stone, but don't come to this party looking for optimistic lyrics and ebullient entertainment. A shocking turn from the normally jubilant Sly and his cohorts where the hard-hitting upbeat dance rhythms have given way to a jittery pulse and an often murky sound like thick oil on a slow boil. The dance floor has become a sticky black tar road on a hot summer day. Singer Sly Stone sounds, both lyrically and vocally, at the end of his rope: emotionally, psychologically, and pharmacologically. He's stoned, but instead of espousing visions of universal peace; one imagines him bitter, red-rim eyed, and sitting in a darkened corner. The first song "Luv 'n' Haight" is a junkie dance number; the lyrics "Feel so good, feel so good. Don't want to move", take up a majority of the song. In "Poet", nearly every phrase starts out clear, but slips into a slur as if he is losing his train of thought or slipping into drugged oblivion. On "Brave and Strong" he sounds as if he feels neither. The album managed a hit single, "Family Affair", even with such messages as: "You can't leave 'cause your heart is there/You can't stay cause you been somewhere/ You can't cry 'cause you'll look broke down/But you're crying anyway, 'cause you're all broke down". Despite the often distressing lyrics as well as instrumental riffs and lines that sound more as if they were thrown in a heap atop a shuddering beat than a consciously constructed song, the album remains surprisingly tuneful and catchy. The melodies in this morass will stick to you. Whatever private hell Sly is trapped in, his irrepressible sense of melody and song craft comes through. Still, it's an album to play when the party is over.\n\n\nAmazon.com Customer Review\n"Don't Dance To The Music!", May 25, 2000\nReviewer: WILLIE A YOUNG II "willow" (Houston, TX.) \nQuite frankly, I was terrified of this album. And with good reason, never before or since has such a brutal, bleak, uncomprimising, and at times downright depressing (not to mention mercilessly funky) statement been issued by a genius of pop music. This is Sylvester Stewart's harrowing chronicle of his life, and black life in general, circa 1970-71. Let me first point out the sound of the music presented here, from the opening track "Luv 'N' Haight" with it's gospel tinged backing vocals, wah wah guitars flying back and forth, Larry Graham's low, mournful bass, and the drunk, off-center meter of Greg Errico's drumming, the listener is immediately put on notice that Sly and the rest of the band are not out to make this an easy listening experience. From his first words, almost drunkenly muttered instead of sang, Sly sets the tone for an initially difficult, but ultimately rewarding and unforgettable experience. This song climaxes with an electrifying call and response(feel so good, feel so good, wanna move, wanna move) that almost makes you think this is going to be another good time dance record, when along comes "Just Like A Baby" to drag you right down into the abyss. Utter depression has never hurt this good. This lovely, moaning bummer of a song is highlighted by Larry's lead bottomed, monotonous bass line that burrows it's way into your brain and doesn't let go. "Poet" is almost an instumental that creeps along at a snails pace but Sly does appear briefly to pat himself on the back, justifiably calling himself a poet. The sole hit song here, "Family Affair" actually makes more sense in this setting and is reason alone to own this collection. The remainder of "Riot" follows a similar path, but somehow never repeats itself. My personal favorites are the paranoid "Brave and Strong" (great lyrics; "out and down, ain't got a friend, you don't know who turned you in",)"You Caught Me Smilin' Again" (Cynthia Robinson's trumpet doesn't blare, she lets it fall brilliantly flat, and Sly almost lets loose with some serious soul shouting), "Runnin'Away",(the best song ever written about facing yourself and responsibility ("look at you foolin' you"), and it has a flawless, jazzy little coda with great interplay between Cynthia's trumpet, Larry's bass and Greg's drums. And the album's closer, a slow, molasses paced remake of "Thank You Falettin Me Be Mice Elf Agin", "Thank You For Talkin' To Me Africa" featuring the funkiest bass playing ever committed to tape, trust me, it'll stink up your whole house, it's that good. All in all this is a very daring move on this gifted group's behalf, Sly & Co. sound like a completely different band than on previous releases and this LP will probably dissapoint fans looking for "Stand!" part II. But don't miss it, music this ingenious doesn't come along every day, and with the current state of affairs in modern black music, this is still an innovative song cycle that demands to be heard. Find this album. Kill if you must!\n\nHalf.com Album Credits\nSylvester Stewart, Producer\n\nAlbum Notes\nSly & The Family Stone: Sylvester Stewart (vocals, keyboards); Freddie "Stone" Stewart (guitar); Jerry Martini (saxophone); Cynthia Robinson (trumpet); Rosie Stone (piano); Larry Graham (bass instrument); Gregg Errico (drums).During the late '60s, Sly and the Family Stone was the emblem of the new utopia-- celebratory, integrated, intent on breaking down walls, and full of relentlessly positive, idealistic energy. 1971's THERE'S A RIOT GOIN' ON directly contradicted all of these characteristics. Instead, the album represented the dark days of post-'60s disillusionment--a move from right-here/right-now ethos to reflection ("Time"), from integration to separatism ("Thank You For Talkin' To Me Africa"), and from Sly's exuberant cheerleading to a weary, craggy-voiced vocal style. Many fans considered the album a "downer" at the time.In truth, RIOT is stunningly innovative and artistically accomplished. Here Sly began playing with subtle, sophisticated rhythms, creating webs of interlocking parts and textures, foregrounding mood over pop structures. The production is murky, keeping with the dark, edgy themes of the album, yet it is packed with detail. The burbling guitars, keys, lock-pop bass, and ghostly vocals create a warm, enveloping cocoon, as on the honeyed, heavy-lidded groove of "Just Like A Baby," the percolating surge of "Family Affair" (one of Sly's finest moments), and "(You Caught Me) Smilin'," which catches a wistful flash of the old optimism. Though it may be a challenging listen for the uninitiated, THERE'S A RIOT GOIN' ON rewards endless repeated listens.\n\nROLLING STONE REVIEW\nMaybe this is the new urban music. It's not about dancing to the music, in the streets. It's about disintegration, getting fucked up, nodding, maybe dying. There are flashes of euphoria, ironic laughter, even some bright stretches but mostly it's just junkie death, oddly unoppressive and almost attractive in its effortlessness. Like going to sleep very slowly. The music has no peaks, no emphasis, little movement; it seems to fall away like a landslide in a dream (you falling slowly too, not panicking) or merely continue, drained of impetus, self-destructing. Smack rock.\n\nIt's Sly & the Family Stone's fifth album (not counting the Greatest Hits collection) and their first new LP since April 1969. Perversely titled--There's a Riot Goin' On (Epic KE 30986) implies action--irrelevantly packaged--a wordless open-fold with "flag" cover, the stars replaced by white sunbursts on black and a terrible junior high Polaroid collage of Family and friends on the back--the album is a testament to two years of deterioration rather than two years of growth. One of the most influential innovators in recent years, Sly retains a certain inventiveness and a characteristically high-strung sound but he's left behind much more.\n\nGone is the energy and flash that exploded in Sly's early music. In the beginning, the message was music is alive, dance to the music, sing a simple song, I wanna take you higher. Then, you can make it if you try, everybody is a star, Stand! (all the things you want are real). And the music repeated that message with intensity and joy. But there's no exhilaration left and no immediately clear message. Only an overwhelming feeling of exhaustion.\n\nAfter all the past electricity, the first shock of the new album is its sound. Listening to it is like watching a junkie nodding, each breath measuring the slow descent of his head as he drops his comb for the tenth time in two minutes. It feels like slow motion, like batteries running down, like a lot of downs. But once you get into the haze of it, it can be rather beautiful: measured, relaxed, hypnotic. The new version of "Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin)"--inexplicably retitled "Thank You for Talkin' to Me Africa" (a cross-reference to another cut and to the original title for the album, Africa Talks To You) but otherwise unchanged lyrically--is paced at about half the speed of the original. The reduced speed is perhaps more appropriate to the dream-like quality of the opening verses but gives a bitterly ironic feeling to the refrain, sung over and over to the fade-out, passionless and dead: "Thank you falettinme be mice elf again", even if it means destroying myself.\n\n"Thank You" provides the link between Riot and Sly's previous work and points to the radical changes his music has undergone. A relentless pattern, varied only slightly throughout the song's more than seven minutes, is repeated three times before the vocals begin: a deliberately plodding, thick bass, echoed by drums with a nervous, sharp guitar. At times Sly underlines the guitar on organ or slashes at the keyboard for an accent, but the monotony of the pattern remains. When the voices enter, they sound agonized and weary, pulled up from the depths, struggling against inertia. Sly stands out from the others who set a purposely flat, low-key tone for him to play against. He seems to scrape his voice across the song, bringing phrases out of full-throated growls or stifled screams. It's a magnificent, if frightening, contrast with the original; at first I was appalled, now I'm fascinated.\n\nThe rest of the album brings out a similar ambivalence, When you get over the initial shock (Sly ain't gonna take anybody higher this time), the minimal, downer qualities of the music and singing begin to take on a certain appeal. This doesn't cancel out the overall sense of disintegration but it does make such a state of euphoric coming apart seem somehow enviable.\n\nThe tone is set with the opening cut, "Luv n' Haight" which begins, "Feel so good inside myself/Don't want to move/Feel so good inside myself/Don't need to move." Although stripped of the force of Sly's old stuff, "Luv n' Haight" is practically speedy in the context of the Riot album. The tension between the song's languid, stoned qualities (mainly the vocals, with Sly again, and throughout the album, playing with the limits of his voice) and the prodding, nervous qualities of the music (especially the wah-wah guitar) is the perfect mirror of the lyrics, which vary in their wasted indecision between the original "Don't want to move" and "Feel so good/I want to move." But you know the dude is too fucked up to move even if he wants to.\n\n"Luv n' Haight" also contains these lines; "As I grow up,/I'm growing down./And when I'm lost/I know I will be found." As one of the many cryptic hints of Sly's condition spread through the album, this is a typical combination of hope and pain, two elements constantly at war here.\n\nIt's a very personal album and if there's a riot goin' on, it's inside Sly Stone. David Kapralik, Sly's manager, has a line about the "riot" being in the environment, implying that the title cut, listed and timed at 0:00, is space for examination of the "riot" all around you; the interpretation is up to you. If Sly seems weaker lyrically than on his previous work, it can be laid in part to pure stoned self-indulgence and the kind of dumb incoherence he often displays on stage, but more importantly, it's the result of a very real personal struggle, with only tentative, vaguely grasped solutions. On "Africa Talks to You" he asks (himself), "When life means much to you,/Why live for dying?/If you are doing right,/Why are you crying?"\n\n"Family Affair," its sound at once mournful and playful, deals with these questions a little further down the line toward understanding them and their answers. The double meaning of the title--a private matter, A Family (Stone) affair--emphasizes its concerns are close to home. The singing is plain, gritty, stripped of any pretty vocal qualities, just Sly in the lead with Sister Rosie repeating almost plaintively, "It's a family affair," At the end, Sly states quite clearly the conflict at the center of the album: "You can't leave, 'cause your heart is there./But you can't stay, 'cause you been somewhere else!/You can't cry, 'cause you'll look broke down,/But you're cryin' anyway 'cause you're all broke down!"\n\n"Runnin' Away" picks up the conflict with more irony, more distance, but the same painful self-awareness folded into a deceptively bright package. "Look at you fooling you," the song taunts, "You're stretching out your dues." As an insight into Sly's own delusions and everyone's, the song is one of the only moments of genuine self-satisfaction on the album. "You Caught Me Smilin'," on the other hand, seems full of self-deception; the smile sounds like a mask and. Sly is really saying, like Smokey Robinson in "Tracks of My Tears," "Take a good look at my face/You'll see my smile looks out of place." He drops the pretense slightly in the last line: "In my pain, I'll be sane to take your hand," but covers himself immediately with the smiling mask of sanity. Look at you fooling you.\n\n"Africa Talks to You 'The Asphalt Jungle'" and "Brave & Strong" are both more complex, more irritating and less accessible. The lyrics are broken and puzzling, near-impenetrable in "Africa"; the sound, too, is fragmented, ominous, jittery, again, more so in "Africa" where the last half of the cut drifts off as if dazed, mixing with these ghostly voices warning "Timber!" Both songs seem to be warnings, personal, but directed outward to all of us more so than much of the other material here. In "Africa" the warning is "Watch out, 'cause the summer gets cold .../When today gets too old"; time is running out ("Timber ... all fall down!") and ain't nobody gonna save you but yourself. "Brave & Strong" pushes the point--"Survive!"--more emphatically but less effectively--a more muddled, less interesting song.\n\nMuch of the rest is just bad: pretentious ("Poet"), cute, dumb ("Spaced Cowboy"), inconsequential ("Time"). Kapralik, again, says that when any "great creator" has reached the top, "the only thing to do is step back and lay back." Is that what you call it? Feels more like being knocked back and struggling to recover. "Thank you for the party/I could never stay,/Many thangs [sic] is on my mind/Words in the way." Sly has cut to the minimum, reduced his music to bare structures, put aside the density and play of voices in the Family in favor of his anguished, unpolished lead and quiet choruses. Maybe he had little choice. You couldn't say Riot is a pulling through or an overcoming. It's record of a condition, a fever chart.\n\nAs such, it doesn't invite an easy response. At first I hated it for its weakness and its lack of energy and I still dislike these qualities. But then I began to respect the album's honesty, cause in spite of the obvious deception of some cuts, Sly was laying himself out in all his fuck-ups. And at the same time holding a mirror up to all of us. No more pretense; no more high-energy. You're dying, we're all dying. It's hard to take, but There's a Riot Goin' On is one of the most important fucking albums this year. (RS 98 -- Dec 23, 1971) -- VINCE ALETTI YEAR: 1971
This rock cd contains 16 tracks and runs 65min 34sec.
Freedb: e20f5c10
Buy: from Amazon.com

Categories

Latest lists

Sly & The Family Stone: There's A Riot Goin' On (Remastered + Expanded) CD Track Listing

Category

Tags

cyList

Legal