The resourceful Greenman...has coaxed, wheedled, massaged, used God knows what processes of titration and palpation to extract a fascinating book from him.
It is difficult to convey just how astoundingly unlikely it is that this book exists. Sly Stone is one of pop music’s truest geniuses and greatest mysteries, who essentially disappeared four decades ago in a cloud of drugs and legal problems after recording several albums’ worth of incomparable, visionary songs. Fleeting, baffling, blink-and-you-miss-him appearances at his 1993 Rock & Roll Hall of Fame induction and a 2006 Grammy tribute only served as reminders that he was still alive and still not well. Which makes it almost impossible to set expectations for this memoir. If Amelia Earhart or the Loch Ness Monster released an autobiography tomorrow, would we complain about the unanswered questions or devour any glimpse we get into such mythic characters? ... Some of the biggest pleasures in Thank You come when we witness him teasing out a theme ... He’s actually at his least cagey talking about the drugs. He presents his experiences matter-of-factly ... Looking back at his notorious, frustrating, reclusive life, Sly Stone feels no need for explanation or contrition.
