Original subtitles

Most people probably don't know what a sideman, or side woman for that matter, is.

I'm a sideman.

Have been for 40 years.

My name is Earl Slick.

I was David Bowie's sideman.

Our job as sidies is to back up the big names.

You don't compete with the lead guy.

That's not a sideman.

Matter of fact, that's an out-of-work musician.

Most of the time, we are invisible.

Ghosts at the top table.

Our story takes you behind the scenes with some of the world's biggest ever stars.

Our

job is to fit in with the star's vision.

Personality, yes.

Evo, no.

The sideman or side woman is mainly the star.

And the dude on tour.

But sometimes the lines are blurred.

Some are guitarists.

Some singers.

Keyboard players.

Horn players.

And some are all of these rolled into one.

Our percussion and saxophone.

Keyboard, harmonica, you name it.

Professor Crystal Callefero.

And for the new generation of sidies, it's a whole new ball game.

This film tells the untold story of rock and roll's guns for hire.

How we began.

How we survived.

And how our lives are very different from what you guys imagine.

The hard thing for a sideman is the better you

are at your job, the less people will notice you.

And that's the whole point.

People always ask, do you get nervous?

When I'm putting my clothes on and getting in my makeup, no.

Charlie J.

Woods.

When I'm, you know, walking to the stage, no.

Keith Richards.

The minute I hit that stage, I start to feel this energy.

Mr. Bernard Fallon.

Drum starts and then I start to get nervous.

Then I look out of my peripheral and then I see the boys.

They were just ordinary.

Now I'm looking at them and they literally turn into superheroes.

Yeah, and the storm is coming.

And I'm nervous all the way up until I sing the first note.

The minute I sing the first note, I slowly become settled.

And now I'm in the machine and we're running.

It's just a shadow, it's just a shadow.

It's special because it's the Rolling Stones.

It's the world's greatest rock and roll band.

That's special.

My friend Bernard has been side man to the Stones for 30 years.

He's very much part of the show.

I really like working with Bernard.

It's really nice having him there.

I mean, most of the show when he's out there, he's out there with a light on him

in front of like 60,000 people and stepping forward

and joking around and he's definitely there.

And he's introduced, his name is called, he's applauded.

He's part of this team.

I think he's very good at what he does.

He's hardworking, he doesn't screw up.

I mean, I'm not very good at learning from other vocalists.

I mean, I probably could learn a lot from him if I put my mind to it.

Bernard brings a reliability to Mick from sound check where they have a rapport and

a strength that carries on to the live gig where it's got to be delivered right.

Wait for it, wait for it.

No, not yet, not yet.

Here.

I think there's been a couple of other times where, either for one reason or

another, Mick get off stage and blow his nose or whatever.

And he's taken over for a verse or two.

It would be very, very difficult to think of the Stones without him.

God, I rely on him for so many things on stage because he knows exactly what's

going on and sometimes I'm lost in the haze.

I like that.

Here we go.

And all I do is look at V and he goes...

Right.

That's good.

Come on now, you can't...

To be versatile and to be like a fireman as well,

probably another requirement of an ultimate sideman.

I mean, we did 30 years without any backups,

but he certainly brings quality and class to it.

For me, Bernard Fowler is one of the best guys and

one of the best undiscovered voices in America.

I love the Stones.

I've watched their children grow up.

I love the music.

They're like family at this point.

I look at Bernard and I see the Rolling Stones

and I go, man, these guys sing with the boys, man.

He's singing with the boys, not for them, not background vocals.

That's how I see it.

Look, nothing against the audience.

The audience gets caught up with the Rolling Stones, they get caught up with

David Bowie, they get caught up with the Beatles, whatever.

You are just an appendage of that.

And I remember walking into some club and some guy said, that's Bernard Fowler.

He's a backup singer for the Rolling Stones.

And the guy said, bullshit, ain't no black people in the Rolling Stones.

LAUGHTER LAUGHTER

This guy's obviously seen all the shows.

It's your job not to horn in in any way whatsoever.

That word side takes on all connotations, you know.

You're to be invisible.

That's the sublimation of the ego.

A big ego is no good for a sideman.

You've got to know who you are, where you stand in the hierarchy of things.

If you're a background vocalist, that's what you have to accept.

You might say it's a bit of an indignity.

But, you know, if you're clever enough, you'll

understand that, you know, there's a reason I don't...

It's not because you're ugly and I don't want you on the stage.

I grew up in Long Island City, Queens.

I grew up in a place called Queensbridge Project.

If you're taking the subway, it's the first stop outside of Manhattan.

Queensbridge was a rough area.

Really rough when I was growing up.

And it stayed that way for a long time.

This used to be a really bad area.

And I was part of the bad area.

Before I came to my senses.

I was really young.

And I was doing like a lot of young black kids in the inner city.

I was hustling.

And here come the rollers.

The cops come in.

We're scattering like roaches.

Everybody's throwing their shit.

Throwing their shit.

I threw my shit.

And the cop came by with his flashlight.

And he looked at me.

And he said, you know what, Fowler?

I can take you to jail.

I know your mother.

I know Miss Pearl.

He said, if I catch you down here again, if I catch you down here again,

I'm taking your ass to jail.

I don't care whether I know your mother or not.

Your ass is going to jail.

That was a wake-up call.

Bernard, like most of us sighties, didn't set out to be a backing musician.

Most of us wanted to be the star.

Hell yeah.

We put this band together, The Peach Boys.

The next thing you know, we were in the studio.

I went in and sang this song, Don't Make Me Wait.

It took off.

We were king of the airwaves when that record came out.

Every club that you go, you hear Bernard.

So he started to build up his name.

And I wouldn't call it as a background singer

because a lot of this stuff was lead vocal.

I drank from the day of my life.

And I had done some pretty diverse records.

And when vocals were needed, I thought of Bernard.

But just as Bernard was becoming a respected frontman in his own right

touring the world, he got a call from producer Bill Laswell.

The call was going to change the rest of his life.

I go home.

Bill Laswell calls me.

Hey, man, what you doing, man?

Said nothing, man.

Cool.

Go to the airport.

I'm like, nah, man, you don't understand.

I just came from the airport.

I just walked into my apartment.

He says, go back to the airport.

I said, Bill, you don't understand.

I just walked in.

Go back to the airport.

So I go back to the airport.

Say to the lady, is there a ticket here for me?

This is the good old days.

Yes, we have a first-class ticket for you to go to.

I said, where am I going?

Where are you going?

She said, you don't know where you're going.

No, you're going to London.

I arrive in London.

Still don't know why I'm there.

Bill picks me up.

Huge black Bentley.

We walk up the steps to this house.

Ding dong.

Bill walks in.

I walk in behind him.

There's a guy sitting on the floor with a guitar in his hand.

And the guy turned around and looked at me.

It was Mick.

I had no idea.

I'm standing there.

I'm saying to myself, oh shit, oh shit.

That's all I could think was oh shit.

He gives me a cassette and he says, you know, when we get to the studio

tomorrow, this is the stuff that we're going to be working on.

So I went back to the hotel and I did all the

vocal arrangements on this four track machine.

Just another night.

Just another night.

He did some good things on She's the Boss album.

We worked together quite closely on that.

I can't remember exactly what we did.

It's a long time ago.

But we worked quite closely.

I did all the vocal arrangements for She's the Boss.

That means all the choruses and all the background stuff.

All the vocals you hear other than his lead, I did.

I got the chacophane...

You pray the Queen I pray the name...

Oh... I'm lucky at love...

A change... Normally I do most of my own harmonies.

But he can change his vocal style to fit in with yours.

So it sounds like me singing twice.

He can make it that.

Or he can make it sound like another person so we can sound like two different people.

The relationship was very easy with Mick and I.

It got not so easy once the band came.

Bernard finally got to work with all of the Stones on their Steel Wheels album in 89.

Mick calls and says, you know, Stones are getting ready

to do a new record, and I can really use your help.

I'm like, okay, cool, but where are you?

You know, he gives me the address to the studio.

One by one, the Stones started coming in.

Charlie coming in.

I'm like, oh shit.

You know, I say oh shit a lot.

Bill Wyman comes in.

Oh shit.

Ronnie Wood walks in.

Hey.

Cool.

Keith walks in.

Oh shit.

And I'm in there, you know, coming up with the ideas.

That's when Mick says, hey, okay, I like the

idea, so let's go and do it for real now.

Not bad.

Nice.

I feel some heat.

And Keith is looking at me.

And I'm like, oh man, this is not good.

I'm looking at this dreadlock, you know.

This staring went on, it went on way too long.

So I said, I got to say something to this cat man.

I looked at him and I said, is everything all right?

At which point he says, you know, I didn't want to like you.

And I'm like, again, oh shit.

I said, why man?

I said, uh-uh.

I said, I'm cool.

And he says, I thought you were one of Mick's boys.

I'm like, oh.

Because Mick and I were on it like, oh, anybody that Mick picks up is not

going to end up on a Rolling Stones session, you know.

And then he says, I know you're cool.

Cool.

You know, we get on with work.

And we were working so well together.

That day, you know, we became firm friends.

And it was a funny way of meeting, you know.

When Bernard is singing background, he's a support singer.

You know, he is supporting what they're doing.

And it's interesting because a lot of singers, when they're doing background and

can sing lead as well as he sings, usually one or the other thing will suffer.

Either the background singing isn't strong or you can't

remember parts or you can't do this or you can't do that.

There's like nothing in my book that he can't do.

Once he says, yeah, I got this.

Call me the jungle in the night.

Call me the jungle in the night.

I've always thought about Bernard.

That guy is actually too good.

But at the same time, I understand it because he just loves to work with the Stones.

Call me the jungle in the night.

You know, coming up through the ranks, something that was always important to me

was to be acknowledged and respected by the

people that seemed to be above where I was.

The people that I wanted to play with, you know.

That's something that I always, I look for that more than anything,

to be received by those cats.

Those cats that are out there doing it, you know.

They're someplace that I've strived to be.

And that means I'm good enough to hang.

I'm good enough to hang out with them.

I'm good enough not just hang out with them, I'm good enough to play with them.

Yeah, that's a validation.

The validation that Bernard feels when he is

with the Rolling Stones is what we all want.

To feel part of something rather than an outsider.

I worked for 40 years on and off with David Bowie and it defined my life.

But playing music was never a choice.

It was a calling.

I was a lousy student.

I can't take orders.

I don't like being pushed around and not being told what to do.

So that eliminates probably 99% of the job market right there.

I sucked in school, so college was out.

I barely got through high school.

And I just loved it.

First of all, I just loved playing and listening,

which I did 24 hours a day and still do.

But I didn't even know what the hell a sideman was.

I never sat around thinking, boy, I'd like to be so-and-so's guitar player.

By the time I was 18, I had my own band and a new name to go with it.

He created a persona.

Instead of Frank Mataloni, now he was Earl Slick.

That sounds pretty good, you know.

He had the look.

He had the attitude.

He had the arrogance.

He had the certainty.

He had the cockiness.

In 1974, I got a call from a British guy called David Bowie.

I wasn't really that familiar with his work, but I thought, what the hell?

I'm sitting there like a jerk for a couple of minutes.

And then comes in this skinny, spooky-ass

looking guy with bright red hair and no eyebrows.

I said, no eyebrows.

I was like, what?

Anyway, he sat down.

He was great.

It was David.

And he was great.

He had a guitar with him.

Jacket with a bottle of brandy.

Guy just threw it down.

And we played.

Had some brandy.

We talked for a little while.

It was fun.

It was pleasant.

And he said, great.

You can talk to my assistant and we'll let you know what's going on.

Phone rang the next morning, thank God.

He said, David wants to know if you're interested in doing this.

And that's where it all started.

I went for the for sure shot.

And that's when the Sideman thing started.

That was not my goal.

David could have taken...

on any guitarist of any level of skill, but instead he took on this talented,

but raw, young, kind of unbridled spirit from Brooklyn.

And I think coming to know David as I did, I really see, you know, why he did that.

He really dialed into sort of people's spirit, people's

vibe, you know, what they could bring to the situation.

Not just musically, but personality-wise.

Dialing into what you could bring to the artist is what all Sidemen want.

David didn't tell me what to play, but what to do.

He allowed me to express myself within his music.

He accepted me as part of his vision.

I wasn't an outsider.

I was a child.

And I was a young boy when I was a teenager.

I didn't know what to do, what to do, what to do.

I never knew what to do.

You never know what to do.

Then I realized... This is what I found out.

Uh -huh.

And he would look at me in this big smile, just before even the solos came in.

He had this big smile on his face, man.

And that would drive me home, man.

That would drive me home.

Respect for what we bring to the table is what we sideys live off.

It makes you go that extra mile.

But I never forgot that it was David Bowie's name on the billboard, not mine.

But there are times when sideys are thrust right into the spotlight.

Almost as visible as the stars themselves.

When Prince became Prince in the Revolution, he wanted sidemen.

Or in this case, sidewomen who could bring something a little extra to the party.

And look the part.

That would be Wendy and Lisa.

I think Prince's vision about the band being mixed, male, female, black,

Jewish, that was a very conscious decision and a desire on his part.

Lisa and I, not only being female, we were lovers.

We were a couple.

And he was like, oh my God, it's female?

It's gay?

And everybody just freaking, right?

It's controversy, this is it, oh my god!

Back then with new wave music, a lot of bands were coming out with girls.

And it was just a novelty, I think, at first.

And just a sexy, arm candy, somebody to play that role.

But Wendy and I turned it into power instead of just

like a frilly little something pretty to look at.

I had like 80s stockings and I was like, yeah, okay, I'm gonna, I'm gonna add a

nastiness to it, so I'll accept the garter because I am playful.

But I'm not gonna, I'm not gonna show you my tits.

I was the female facilitator so that he had all the control.

He had all the room to be like this sexy, hot, androgynous tornado, right?

He knew where to dig and once he found his gold, it was like, I'm free now.

And we were perfect frame.

And that is great.

Side players.

Give that front person the freedom to fall on their asses.

You make sure that they've got the perfect little

environment to be the freak they want to be.

Wendy and Lisa got Prince.

They understood him.

Knew what he needed before he did.

And boy, could they play.

And again, clusters all the time.

Lisa was actually a trained, serious player.

Lisa could push back to Prince because she was the only player

who could do things better than he could on her instrument.

Wendy and Lisa had grown up together.

Lisa essentially invited Wendy to come along on some of the tours.

And she was around.

She knows the parts and she can play.

And apparently Prince is kind of, you know, knocked sideways in that moment.

Like, that's not just Lisa's friend, that's a real player.

On Purple Rain.

There's a song called Computer Blue.

I mean, we co-wrote that song with Prince.

He came up with an idea and said, I just, I need to put the frame in it.

I got to put it in the pot and put the pressure cooker on now.

Let's see what we come up with.

I started playing the lead line to this.

When we were first writing the song, the lead line came

out of Wendy and I just fooling around with synth sounds.

And I think that really inspired Prince.

I think he thought that was a really important part of the song and the groove.

He just was like, yeah, high five and a writing credit.

I find that a great task for me as someone who

tries to be as good of a musician as I can be.

Not just an instrumentalist, but what can I offer the artist to be better?

The song Purple Rain in the movie, he says, you know,

I'd like to perform a song that the girls wrote.

I had an interview and someone misquoted me when asked, did you write Purple Rain?

And the answer in the print was yes.

I get a phone call from Prince and he's extremely upset.

Why did you say that?

Do you think you wrote Purple Rain?

And I said, stop.

No.

But we helped you.

Prince walked in the room and said, here's the chord progressions.

I thought to myself, oh, it's like a very country progression.

And what I pride myself on is finding a way to re-harmonize something.

Something that's very simple.

I never meant to cause you any sorrow.

So I played the chords, but I stretched bottom

notes and I put ninths, different shades.

I never meant to cause you any pain.

Here comes the chords.

Those are the opening chords of Purple Rain.

Did I write Purple Rain?

No.

But would Purple Rain have been the song that

you hear to this day without Chef coming in?

This is the dish I want to cook.

I've assembled an incredible crew here.

What are we going to do?

I never meant to cause you any...

I never meant to cause you any...

To see you laughing...

The version of Purple Rain used in the film is a recording

of Wendy's first live appearance with The Revolution.

She was just 19 years old.

I wanted to be a great guitar player in a great band.

I wanted to be a great player.

But there's ambivalence about that role that I

had and what I knew Lisa and I were giving him.

I did have moments of anger at him.

I always wanted him to say, You're great!

God, I couldn't do this without you!

Man!

It never... That didn't come out of his mouth.

Prince made it perfectly clear that if you were there and you had that role and you

were next to him playing, that was his validation.

But in the spirit of full disclosure, I wanted his validation.

But when it came right down to it, he had every right to ignore you.

He hired you.

He wanted to do this thing.

And he was signed to Warner Brothers.

And it wasn't specified.

There wasn't a distinction made that you are now going to partake in my soup.

It was just like, this is going to be awesome.

Aren't you going to have fun?

I'm having fun.

And we're like, yeah!

I'll get it, baby!

Being on stage in front of tens of thousands of people alongside Prince,

or Bowie, or whoever, is a pretty special feeling.

It is.

But what all of us sideys have to accept is that we are not the stars.

I knew where I was in the pecking order with David Bowie.

I was the gun for hire with a job to do.

As sidemen, we are there to support.

If he's tired or a little distracted, he relied on me to take that spot.

That's my job.

Slick could be a foil.

That was definitely part of what he did for David.

Slick was really maybe the more animal of the two.

And that animal element really needed to be there, that earthiness.

And Slicky was really that personified.

But it's still his tour.

So to make it his tour, to make sure that he came looking in the best light,

my job is to catch him when he's going to fall down, make sure that I pick up the

energy if he doesn't have it, and make it work on that stage.

That's my sideman.

That's what I do.

And you've got to remember, because I've seen sidemen go

sideways, all of a sudden they think they're the star.

Uh-uh.

Bad move.

.

.

They work together in a sonic way, and they can work together visually.

Earl never upstages David.

You know, it's just kind of a great match -up of mutual respect.

When I worked with David, I got to play both on the road and in the studio.

And for me, that was just great.

But there are also those players who are only hired to work in the studio.

The session musicians.

I mean, there are guys that just do sessions.

They don't go on the road.

They don't necessarily ever play live.

So I think that's the difference between a session man and a sideman.

A sideman is expecting to play to an audience live.

A session man...

maybe never plays live or only occasionally.

A session player, you think of him being in recording studios, but the sideman has

a little more input to the artist they're working with.

His feedback is amazingly important.

You know, but I've been in recording sessions where I've changed the whole vibe

of the studio, you know, just based on what I've played.

Sometimes that's not wanted by the artist, and it's not comfortable.

This is not your gig, they'll say.

This is not your gig.

What are you telling us?

We have a vision.

Your job is to execute it.

Executing the vision of the artist was extremely important for session players,

especially in the 60s.

But one guy who I really looked up to and successfully combined the roles of session

man and sideman was guitar legend Steve Cropper.

Hey, call me back.

I'm in the middle of an interview doing a video.

Okay.

Sound pretty good.

Steve Cropper was part of the Stax record label based out of Memphis, Tennessee.

I would say that Steve Cropper, without a doubt, is one of the greatest

sideman session men I've ever seen in my life.

Because he could adapt to whatever the flavor and role would be in a credible way.

And his commitment to it would be all in.

And that was the thing that made Steve special.

When we first heard Booker T's stuff, we naturally

assumed it was an all-black affair, you know.

And it was quite a maze to find out that Steve was

white and Duck Dunn, the bass player, was also white.

But at the time, this was still pretty unique.

Booker T and the MGs had hits and then also functioned as the band that was

backing the different vocalists that came through.

With Stax, you have a sense that it's a band

that's creating a sound that's a signature sound.

We out here on the floor now

Oh yeah, oh yeah The formula back in the 60s, everybody

had their own studio and their own set of musicians.

You know, they didn't look up in the phone book and call

this guy because he's good or that guy because he's good.

They were the same guys all the time.

And we played on almost every session.

Don't you ever, don't you ever Don't you ever, don't you ever When Steve's worked

with Booker T, he was also the indispensable

side man to Wilson Pickett and to Sam & Dave.

And in a business where everyone is indispensable, that's unusual.

When

we would do a Sam & Dave session, Steve would bring the flavor that we're

looking for and we're communicating for the Sam & Dave

project that you could tell that sounded like Sam & Dave.

And if he were then, in fact, doing the Booker T and the MGs, he would take that

role, and it would sound like Booker T and the MGs, yet it's the same four players.

And you've got to be a special, special side man to make that work that way.

At Stax Records, you had white musicians as a support for black artists.

We were the leaders in that.

And you have to understand, we're talking about the 60s.

There were idiots of racists in the 60s.

White racists that hate to even look at blacks walking on the same street with

whites, let alone playing in bands with them.

And then you put them in a role that's backing

up and supporting someone that's black.

That was revolutionary.

But that's what was happening at Stax Records.

You had guys like Steve Cropper who were willing to go into that role of support,

and then on concerts, willing to get on stage and be called all kinds of names.

Steve Cropper was an amazing side man, but it was what he contributed to the song.

He played the rhythm parts, but he was clever enough to come up with intros and

different parts, like we did Knock on Wood.

Eddie Floyd and I were riding at the Lorraine Motel.

And he said, I got a great idea for Stax.

I said, okay, what?

And he said, I want to write a song about superstitions.

I said, okay.

Eddie, what do people do for good luck?

And he said, well, they go...

That's it.

So we started writing, and we knew we had it.

We finished the song, and I know I sat there for a long time trying to come up

with an intro, and I couldn't come up with one.

The only idea that hit me, I said, I wonder what

in the midnight hour would sound like backwards.

And I don't know how I came up with the original of In the Midnight Hour,

but it started on a D chord.

So it's the same walk, just in reverse.

So it...

I don't want to lose...

And that was Knock on Wood.

I don't want to lose This good thing That I got If I do I

will surely Surely lose a lot Cause your love Is better Your

love is frightening I better knock On wood I

said, do you want to learn how to play guitar?

All guitars have the same dots on them.

It's a scale thing, I guess.

I don't know.

I said, just follow the dots.

And you can write hit songs.

It doesn't matter.

Steve Cropper not only played on hit songs, he co-wrote them.

Knock on Wood, In the Midnight Hour, and many more.

He was a songwriter, a session man, a producer, and a sideman.

All rolled into one.

So, when wannabe soul star Otis Redding turned up at Stax in 1964, Steve and Stax

owner Jim Stewart just knew they had someone special.

Al Jackson, the drummer in Booker T and EMG's, came to

me and he said, you know that guy, that big tall guy?

And I said, yeah.

He said, he has been bugging me to death for somebody to listen to him sing.

I said, yeah, okay.

Bring him down to the piano.

And this guy comes up, and I said, okay.

Let the piano play something.

He said, well, I don't play anything.

And I said, well, I don't either.

He said, can you play me some of them church quads?

Quads instead of chords.

Church quads.

And he starts singing These Arms Are Mine.

These arms are mine.

And I said, stop.

Hold it.

He said, what, you don't like it?

And I said, no, I like it great.

I just want Jim Stewart to hear it.

And I went to the control room.

I said, Jim, you got to get out here and hear this guy sing.

These arms are mine.

They are journeying.

And I'm not lying about this.

The hair on my arm stood up.

Like that.

By my recollection, we had 17 hit singles in a row with Otis Redding.

He never had what we would call a flop.

Steve, one of the most original guitar players.

When I heard those first licks on those Otis Redding records, oh, there's one.

There's one.

Probably the other thing about a Sideman, and I'll throw this in with Steve Cropper,

is the ability to read a song very quickly.

There's a sort of contact here with the piece of music

that you're playing and to put your own thing on it.

But it's that sympathy for a song which is the sign of a good Sideman.

Otis Redding's relationship with Steve was so

great that he wanted his Sideman on tour with him.

Otis said, you guys have to go on the road with me.

You have to be my backup band.

That's what made it unique and so special.

The band that played on the hit records was the

same band that played on stage with the artists.

Same licks by the same people, playing the same thing with the same feeling.

Never heard of.

Because you have what you call session players,

and then you have your touring musicians.

They don't do both.

In our story, Stax is really important.

Here, musicians like Steve were given, if not star billing,

at least visibility in a way that was pretty rare before then.

Steve was behind Otis, but crucial to his success.

Sittin' in the mornin' sun I'll be sittin' when the evenin' comes Watchin' those

ships roll in Then I'll watch them roll away again I'll just go sittin' on the

dock of the bay Watchin' the tide roll away Sittin' on the dock of the bay

Wastin' time I left my home in Georgia Headed for the Frisco Bay This was the

last song Steve and Otis Otis worked on together,

though Otis never heard the final track.

He was killed in a plane crash.

He was just 26 years old.

The role I had with Otis...

We partied together, we'd go to clubs together, we'd do different things.

Otis calls himself a backwoods country boy,

but it was something that was extremely magic.

There'll never be another one.

Steve's relationship with Otis was kind of special, and his reputation was sealed.

He would go on to work with everyone from Rod

Stewart, to Eric Clapton, to the Blues Brothers.

And as a sideman, that's what you need.

A reputation.

Because the artists you work with don't always have work for you.

But if you are lucky, someone else might.

And my luck was certainly in when I got a call in 1980.

So I hadn't seen David Bowie since 76, and I got a phone call from the producer,

Jack Douglas, and he said, oh, I got decisions for Slicky, and who is it?

I can't tell you.

But after three or four days, I kind of figured it out.

It was John Lennon.

I was a little nervous.

I don't get nervous.

That one made me nervous.

John had certain session guides that he had used, and John said, well,

I need a wild card in here.

I need a street player that can't read, that's

just like me, irreverent and does what he wants.

That's how I got the gig.

It was not a challenge working with John at all,

because he left me alone to do what I wanted to do.

I was really ecstatic.

It was a really good time in my career.

It really was.

And not just my career, my life.

I loved it.

John just let me loose.

When I'm with one of the so-called stars, I feel like a peer.

You know, that's the way I'm treated.

I'm treated like a peer.

I was really lucky to work with both David and John in a period that I now see as the

heyday for our sidies, the 70s and the 80s.

At this time, there were superstar solo artists who

needed sidemen and respected the role they played.

And if you were a sideman or a woman during this golden age, you could play not

just guitar, but were a multi -instrumentalist,

then you were going to get a lot of gigs.

Our percussion and vocals and saxophone, keyboards,

harmonica, you name it, she plays it out of Gary, Indiana.

That's Professor Crystal Tagliaferro.

Crystal's always there.

She's total professional.

When we're on stage, she delivers.

She's a show unto herself.

I can always rely on her to come through, no matter what we're doing.

And that's a great thing to be able to rely on.

I never have to worry about what she's going to do or how she does it.

I've never wanted to be a star.

Not even when I was a kid.

I didn't even know what a star was.

This whole thing chose me.

I thought I would be married with five kids, maybe a accountant or something.

Seriously, I mean...

But, you know, I'm glad it turned out this way.

Best time of my life.

Who knew?

Crystal hooked up with Billy in the 80s, having worked with some of the biggest

names of the day, including John Mellencamp, Joe Cocker, and Bruce Springsteen.

She went from the keyboard, and then she picked up the saxophone.

And, you know, it's kind of like, wait, she's gorgeous, and she's grounded.

She's talented.

She's got great stage presence.

That is, I think, how Crystal is still in this

business, because she's an asset to anybody.

We started working together and right away, I

said, Oh, this woman knows what she's doing.

She was going to help us arrange harmonies, play percussion.

I didn't know if it was going to be permanent.

I thought it might be temporary.

It was up to her.

Hey!

You feel like a girl.

You feel like a girl.

Today women's societies are part of the show, but it's easy

to forget that back in the 80s this was all about the guys.

A woman coming to the band was different.

A couple flags went up, you know.

But I knew that was going to happen.

I was expecting it to be the sexy one.

Thank you, Billy.

I don't think he purposely meant for it to happen, it

just happened to be that way, and I'm happy I was there.

I mean, I want to hear a guy say, hey, you're sexy.

I think, hey, thank you.

You know, I mean, it makes me feel good.

Yes, there are benefits to being a sexy side woman.

Lots of benefits.

Guys like sexy, hot girls.

I mean, you're popular.

You know, you get a lot of recognition.

And I got a lot of recognition.

And that's probably why I got a lot of gigs.

I didn't notice that there was any issues with her being a woman.

I mean, she was a good musician.

So right away, all the people that I was

working with at the time had respect for her.

And that's really what it, I think, what it came down to, was just,

she's a good musician, and so you better hold your own, you know.

Being one of the guys, but not a guy.

Doing the hang.

When they say, okay, you're one of the fellas.

You can hang.

That's a compliment.

That means they're accepting you as one of the

fellas, and they still respect you as a woman.

Now, when I first came in, now, that was the first time, I guess,

Billy worked with a female, which was interesting.

He did very well, by the way.

He did good.

He did good.

The guys did good, too.

After 28 years, Crystal still plays with Billy's touring band.

But at the end of the day, it doesn't matter how long you're with the star.

When the tour is over, for most of us Sideys, it's a case of, what happens now?

As a Sideman, I live like a king.

I'm treated like a king.

I don't have to do anything but play music.

It's great.

It's Disneyland.

I get to do what I want to do every day.

Nobody questions what I do.

All my needs are taken care of.

Then, said tour is over.

Said Sideman goes home, and said Sideman sits there waiting for the phone to ring.

Which is okay at the very beginning, because there's some money left.

But this money gets smaller and smaller and smaller.

And nobody's calling.

And you're going, why are they not calling?

Is it possible to hit you up again and be a big pain in the ass?

And you'll come up with whatever reasons you come

up with, which may be true, maybe not be true.

But I think the more known you are, and the more visible you are as a Sideman

to your frontman, the less approachable you are.

I'll sit out here all year.

The phone doesn't ring, because they think you're owned.

And in a way, you are.

What are we doing here?

They're thinking, you know, we're rolling in money, and we're buying houses,

and we're working, and we're on retainer,

and any minute we're going to be doing this.

And that's just not the truth.

The truth was that in between, there would be times when years would go by.

This is one of them good-ass do-nothing days.

I like this.

I ain't going to do nothing today after you guys go.

You know what?

It's a double-edged sword.

You're playing with the world's greatest rock and roll band.

And when it's over, it's going to be hard to get another gig, because first of all,

people, for some reason, they think that you're part of the band.

I'm a gun for hire.

I wish I made that kind of money.

I wish I made Rolling Stone money.

But that ain't the case.

I don't make that much money where I can take a vacation or take a break.

I've tried, you know, taking a break after a Rolling Stone tour.

And when that money got low, trying to find another gig, super hard.

It's not like you can just call and say, hey, hey.

I'm Bernard Fowler, and I want a tour now.

Shit don't happen like that.

And like I said, I've done that before, and it bit me in the ass.

I might take a few weeks or so, but I'm back at it.

I've been blessed that every time the Stones have gone out, I've gone out.

But it's really funny because like sometimes, you know, I'd get telephone

calls from friends or fans, and they're like,

hey, man, I hear the Stones are going out.

Why don't you go with them?

I'm like, I didn't hear anything.

And when that happens, it kind of with you a bit

because you're not even sure if you're even going.

That's part of being a Sideman, I think, not being sure.

But Brother B has nothing to worry about on that.

It's whether the Stones will still be around.

It's not whether he'll be with us for sure, you know.

It's up to him, as long as he wants it.

Yeah, he'll be with us till the end.

Then we call him a Rolling Stone.

When we all retire, he can become a...

We'll give him a little badge with, I am finally in there.

Well, as far as I'm concerned, he is officially a Rolling Stone.

So, by now, Brother B will rock on you.

I still do see myself as a Sideman with the Rolling Stones.

By no means am I a Rolling Stone.

And nor will I ever be.

Would the Rolling Stones suffer without me?

They can continue.

But they'd miss me.

This is something special for you.

Bernard's kind of lucky.

Despite some insecurity, he does have a long-term gig with the Stones.

I worked with David on and off for 40 years.

But the work was by no means constant.

I never really knew what was around the corner.

He sacked me once, but then I was called back every time

one of the guitar players vaporized or quit or whatever.

I got the phone call.

And people say, don't that make you feel used?

No.

He was doing what he needed to do at a time.

I took the gig, which meant I did what I needed to do at a time.

So it was, you know, one hand washed the other.

Yeah, boy.

But being sacked, let go, replaced, whatever

you want to call it, when it happens, it hurts.

And it really does piss you off.

From the moment I was hired to the moment it all ended, it was nonstop.

So I never felt that it would end until it ended.

It almost felt like someone kicked the bed while you were sound asleep.

You're like, what, what, what?

That's kind of how it felt when it ended.

Me and Lisa were fired.

The night that we got fired, I can't say that Prince thanked us.

I could just feel his feelings just contradicting each other.

They just jumped themselves within him.

Boo!

I think he was at a crossroads.

I think it was hard for him to say thank you at that time.

I said, you know, I just got into this place where I just

need to change it up now, because I've spread myself too thin.

You guys are your own people, and I need more of it in my control.

We were blown away by it and understood at the same time.

That's what it is when you're a side person.

Everybody's expendable.

Yeah, I felt like my life exploded.

It took me on this incredible ride, and then

suddenly, you know, let's not do this anymore.

It was really like a romantic breakup, you know.

And I think he missed us too, which always freaked me out when I'd get signs of that,

that he was missing us or wondering where we were.

It would make me mad.

It was a facade in that Prince was never going to be a member of a band,

that he was never going to be as collaborative as,

you know, what it was that he was putting forward.

I will say that Purple Rain was the most collaborative period in his career.

After the success of Purple Rain, you know, there

was no possibility of collaboration after that.

I mean, at that point, no.

Nobody could ever say no to him again because he

had shown that he knew better than everybody else.

Wendy and I were pretty lost after the breakup

and weren't really sure what we were going to do.

We rented a house for a couple of weeks and licked our wounds kind of like together.

We commiserated and then we started to write songs.

People were waiting for us to write, you know, a Prince track.

But it's not Prince and the Revolution.

It's a different thing.

Now we're not the arm candy.

You know, we can actually be the centerpiece.

And that was the desire.

And then ensued the dynamic of what are you talking about?

What do you mean, what are you selling?

Okay, we understand commerce.

We got to sell a product.

There's branding, da-da-da-da-da.

But this is where that being a woman in the music business is sort of like an oxymoron.

That's what the species is.

I don't want to play a part in that game.

But when my twin sister came and sang with Wendy and Lisa, the marketers loved it.

Because Susanna was, like, hot and sexy.

And, like, woo-hoo!

We can market that!

I thought Wendy and Lisa were great.

But the move from sidey to solo artist is really a tough one.

We ended up getting, like, dropped repeatedly on every label.

We'd be signed and dropped and signed and dropped.

Signed and dropped.

And, you know, because they were just, like, oh.

Well, where's, you know...

I don't know what they wanted.

A little red Corvette.

But that wasn't gonna happen.

With us, it was a more subtle success that we could play clubs and sell them out.

In my estimation, I think that means that we made it.

And we're able to keep working.

I mean, I haven't had to get a job at Staples or McDonald's or something.

So...

Was it disappointing for me to realize that I wasn't a star?

I have embarrassment saying it.

Yeah.

I wanted to be as important as the artists that are important to me, to other people.

I wanted to be able to have people listen to the work that I did.

My idea of being a rock star probably didn't match what my musical output was.

When Wendy and Lisa didn't turn out to be huge pop stars on their own, they were

able to adjust because of their training, because of their versatility, and because

of their brand name and the awareness of Wendy and Lisa, to go on to be hugely in

demand and to play with folks like Madonna and Joni

Mitchell and Seal, and able to build a career that way.

It's too busy at that time.

The tempo is too much.

And then from that, springboard into writing scores, soundtracks, TV shows, films.

It's still, it's not ironic enough.

It feels too, like, anthemic.

Wendy and Lisa's contribution is much like an actor on the

show, and I always treated them as if they were actors.

With an actor, you don't tell them how to do a scene.

You don't say, don't give a line reading.

And as much as maybe the studio or network at times on parts of the music would want

a line reading, a specific kind of music, I always resisted giving them that note.

So we should be playing something ironic, not too romantic.

In my experience in working with them, I don't think we ever had them re-score

something more than maybe three or four times.

And I'm talking about 200 episodes of television.

That's amazing.

Wendy and Lisa's contribution to the film industry, Wendy

and Lisa made it again as side women, but now in TV.

They're writing music for some of the biggest U.S.

shows.

That was good.

And they even got an Emmy to prove it.

So to survive when you're not on the road, us sideys need to

find other ways to use what we've got to make a few bucks.

I don't think that I've been versatile enough during my career.

What are you, a cop?

I don't see a uniform on you.

Sorry, fat ass.

A lot of the other guys, though, that weren't versatile enough,

disappeared completely off the planet.

And they ain't coming back.

That's something that really hit me like a ton of bricks about ten years ago that I'm

gonna have to sort of spread out here, but where?

It's got such a natural leather scent.

It works.

So I thought, what are my talents?

What the hell can I do?

Yeah, I play music, but I also paint and customize my own clothes.

So I thought, why don't I do something with that?

Worth a try?

This is great.

No?

Extra bullet holes.

Oh, that's 40 grit sandpaper.

You can make bullet holes that way.

I can trash anything.

I do it anyway.

Might as well, like, you know, maybe make money out of it.

Christian Benner is a New York fashion designer.

I really like his style, so I brought a load of my stuff

to see if we might be able to do something together.

And then you take this shit and you put it in bleach

and then use a bunch of rusty nails and... Yeah, yeah.

Shotgun shells and... Can't play it, but it looks cool.

It's beautiful.

I don't have what he has, and he doesn't have what I have.

This is gorgeous, though.

I want what he has.

He wants what I have, which makes for a great partnership.

A Christian B.

original.

Uh, I did it, though.

Yeah, I noticed.

What do you think?

I do belts and jackets, but the way I paint things and the way I do things can

actually add to his thing, and even some of my stuff will stand on its own.

Oh, my God, I did a good job.

I'm good, thank you.

He's been in business.

He's got the machine to do it, whereas I don't.

Therein comes your trade-off.

He gets my name to help him out a little bit.

I get the machine, I get the help, promotion, all the stuff you need.

Little managers talk to each other.

Yeah, they started.

For me, it's fashion, but all of us ideas have to find our own way.

Crystal Talafiero is no shit.

Professor Crystal Talafiero from Indiana University when she's not touring.

Can't see me doing that.

I think I'm talented in more ways than just being a musician.

I think I'm talented, I think, more so in social skills.

I think I have good social skills, which I think should

be weighed on the same level as your performance skills.

I mean, you can have a talented person and you can play 50,000 instruments and have

zero social skills, and who wants to hang around with him?

He can't do the hang.

He's out.

Crystal teaches up-and-coming musicians.

Who knows?

Maybe the next generation of sideys.

Happy, happy.

Wind your body.

Big with your body.

I see it slip, slide.

Come on and do it hardy.

I am teaching how to get the job, how to keep the job, performance,

stage performance, delivery, spontaneity.

I'm teaching basically how to survive.

I want you to use those eyes, those big, terrific eyes you have.

Yoo!

You turn my life...

All the opportunities here for my students doing what I do as a sideman, yes,

they are there, but it's a little more difficult

now from the, you know, younger generation.

They're all talented, great musicians.

Of course.

But I think they've been watered down.

There's no more identities.

Only the star is allowed to have an identity.

Maybe I should rethink and start grooming solo artists instead.

The music business today, hell, it's like another world.

Thankfully, there are still some big artists out there that need great sidemen,

or in the case of Beyoncé, side women.

And when Beyoncé toured the Beyoncé Experience in 07, she

worked with some of the best side women in the business.

There's anywhere from 20 to 30 people on stage with Beyoncé at any given point.

I'm seeing everything.

I'm seeing people losing their minds, going

crazy, seeing their icon for the first time.

I'm seeing a big party, honestly, in the Beyoncé concerts.

I wish everyone had the opportunity to get that point of view.

Crystal Ravel Torres is extraordinary.

She's a multi-instrumentalist who started

working with Beyoncé in 07 as a trumpet player.

When we first began, much of Beyoncé's repertoire didn't have horn parts.

We had a lot of creative freedom, you know, as long as it wasn't stepping on

the melody or getting in the way of what was happening.

We had creative license to kind of add what we wanted.

She asked me to do a solo.

She didn't, she was very open.

She didn't say specifically what to play.

There were 40,000 people staring at me, and Beyoncé said, Give it to mama!

And there's my moment.

She suggested that I do something really dramatic

and put the horn up, you know, back like this.

That's when I solo.

Sometimes it came out, sometimes it didn't, because it's really hard to play a

trumpet in heels, you know, doing a backbend.

I had done maybe five world tours.

But you have to understand, the story was obviously about

Beyoncé, so you have your choice to take it or leave it.

The quintessential modern sideman or musician has to

be open to all of the many places that music leads you.

After being part of Beyoncé's touring band for several years, the day came when

Crystal didn't get the call to join Beyoncé's 2012 tour.

I actually didn't get the call after all those years.

It hurt.

It definitely hurt.

Sometimes you are a part of an artist's

vision, you know, and that's a beautiful thing.

And sometimes you're not.

And I think how every musician deals with those, setbacks,

really determines their fate and their success and their future.

You have to be aware that this is a business and you're working with a star,

so it's not that they don't want you to promote yourself,

but you just, you are working for a bigger brand.

And sometimes it's about that brand first.

This needs to be protected, so you have to find

how you fit and how they can work together.

Nowadays much more so than in the past.

You have to be able to switch gears quickly.

And that would be the time when I developed my songwriting

and production skills and got into that and met Lupe.

Lupe Fiasco is a Grammy award-winning rap

artist who is always looking out for new talent.

Crystal's name kept.

Popping up.

I was like, who's this Crystal on?

And then it was like, hey Crystal, would you mind

coming in and, you know, playing on certain records?

It's so cool to be able to have a working relationship with

somebody who operates at an internationally renowned level.

So I show up not really knowing what to expect and he said, just do your thing.

And so I went into the live room and just, put in a Harmon Mute, and he immediately

responded to that sound, that Miles Davis kind of blue type of sound.

It's like I'm in a studio with Miles Davis, right?

To have somebody at a high caliber, being able

to be like, hey, can you play it like this?

And then they'll play it like that.

And then be like, oh, that was amazing.

Now, can you play it like this?

I'm like, yeah, I can play it like that.

It's like, oh, that was amazing.

Oh, my God.

Like, can you just play?

They all rapidly click until they disappear Clicking gradually quickens

until they disappear By the end of that session, the song just became this moody,

jazzy, organic hip-hop mix.

It graduated into my next album, where it was like, it was a no-brainer.

It was like, hey, I'm going to the studio.

I need Crystal.

I feel that the best artists understand that

we are all working in service to the music.

And while everyone has their roles at the end of

the day, the music is what brings people to them.

There is clearly a place for the next generation of societies.

But what about those of us who have been around the block a few times?

As far as the future goes for me as a sideman, I would say that it looks bleak.

In 2016, my main man, David Bowie, passed away.

That changed everything.

Ah, that's where the lift-off part comes in, isn't it?

Which is kind of what I felt happened when David passed.

You know, he lifted off.

David comes into my head every day since spring of 1974.

When you're entrenched with somebody that long, it just does not go away.

David meant a lot of things to me because he is the first person in my career that I

walked onto a stage with 20,000 people and had a gold record within six months.

And how much I learned from him.

I was always his guitar player.

Now I'm Earl Slick, the guitar player that used

to work with David Bowie when he was alive.

With David gone, it's going to be tough.

A lot of the guys I knew that were hiring sidemen are now retiring.

Which is kind of scary, but who knows?

Maybe liberating.

Bernard is doing more of his own thing.

Alongside his work with the Stones.

And that's got to be good.

Hopefully more people will see that I am only a sideman for the Rolling Stones.

When the Stones ain't rolling, Bernard's out shaking that money maker.

The future is I see myself as a solo artist.

I'll be shaking her hair.

You know, it's all independent.

I'm doing it myself.

There's no machine behind it.

And it's hard to get stuff heard.

Say goodbye to shy.

Groove is gonna tell you why.

I don't think he's happy as a solo artist by being with the Rolling Stones.

But it's very hard to succeed as anything in show business.

There's thousands of groups looking to make one single.

I mean, it's not an easy business to be in.

Bernard loves to step out of the shadow.

He loves to go and project.

You know, he'll make people feel good.

I think that's the reward for Bernard.

If I knew how to make my solo stuff...

break big enough for me to go out and perform it all the time, I would.

It's a great dog.

But it's still less than two years old, so it's still a puppy.

Steve Cropper, as ever, prefers to be in the shadows.

And he can afford to, having written some of the biggest hits of all time.

You can tell it hasn't hung it yet, but this is for 10 million plays from BMI.

Still in the package they gave it to me.

I've always wanted to just be the band member.

I would never want to be that famous where 24-7 somebody's trying to get to you.

And I pride myself in the fact that I, for years, was able to stay under the radar.

Because I get to play behind singers that are great.

They entertain, they dance, they do it all.

I'm back there just grooving, having a ball.

And as long as there are great singers, there are still going to be sidemen.

But the job may change a bit.

My job has changed in the last 30 years.

I'm not doing as much featuring spots, moving over for a new person to come in now.

And we do that, you know, to make room for

other artists to be featured that are coming in.

And that's fine.

That's natural progression.

You on that one, Crystal?

I'm just loving the place that I'm in.

I think I've just gotten more, I guess, seasoned.

You know?

What do you want to call it?

Seasoned.

Today, one avenue for us sideys is to revisit our past.

Which, to be honest, is a bit of a double -edged sword.

Prince's Revolution have recently reformed to

play a few gigs to celebrate the life of Prince.

Mommy, what is it?

The fans will always want it.

They're going to want the Revolution to go out there

because that keeps Prince alive for them, right?

Is this in the A?

It's to D.

A to D.

But how could this not be a slight midlife crisis and want to sort of get back the

taste of your own greatness from that moment?

But...

What I believe we're trying to do as a band is to try

and figure out is there a life to it or is it just that?

I'm not going to be stupid if what ends up

happening is a midlife crisis is leading the pack.

If that is what's driving this...

Bye, folks.

I'm out.

I've always hated anything on that D.

Unless we can make it huge, you know?

Like, wah!

I, too, have been revisiting my past and it has thrown my whole life into perspective.

For me, David Bowie was always there, even when he wasn't.

And now, performing his stuff without him is weird.

But there is a healing here.

And doing it with a fellow sidey makes me feel okay.

Somehow.

You know, two sidemen from two different camps coming together to do something.

But it's not... we're not just bringing the sidemen stuff with us.

We're bringing our own individual vibe and feel.

You got vocals all around, yes?

Yeah, yeah.

I think something really good is gonna come out of that mix.

I did not want to try to emulate David Bowie through a pseudo-Brit Bowie-okey dude.

Mission accomplished.

And I got to work with Bernard.

And we are now best friends and we'll continue

working together because I love the guy to death.

My name is Bernard Fowler.

And I'm happy as f*** to be here.

Please say hello to my partner in crime, the reason I'm here, Earl Slick.

I couldn't think of anybody but him that could really, not only pull it off,

like, vocally, but, you know, has his own stage thing.

And he wasn't gonna imitate.

You know, I know that he was just gonna be Bernard.

And that's what I wanted.

Look at the sky, the lights be gone.

Nights are warm and the days are young.

Bernard is magic.

He made them cry, he made them laugh, he made them scream.

The man got right to their gut.

And that ain't easy to do.

I mean, some shit happened last night on that stage.

That was my paycheck.

I'm going home with a smile on my face.

Just for one day.

Just for one day.

I am working.

To make money.

To pay my bills.

Take care of my children.

And eat.

Just like the rest of you guys do.

You know?

But I do have something that the other guy doesn't have.

I've got freedom.

I don't like being told what to do.

And I like the fact that, you know, I can just sit out

here by this creek sometimes and just f***ing do nothing.

And I'm not sitting in traffic four hours a day waiting to be 60 years old and

collecting some bullshit pension and a fake gold watch.

Then what?

Reality TV, Budweiser and popcorn?

Jesus.

Shoot me.