Welcome to a breath of fresh air with Sandy Kaye. One of my favourite singer-songwriters from the early 70s would have to be Sixto Rodriguez. Rodriguez’s extraordinary life, famously captured in the Oscar-winning documentary Searching for Sugarman, remains one of music’s most inspiring tales.
From working on demolition sites in Detroit to unknowingly becoming a cult icon, Rodriguez’s journey was simply amazing. Do you know the man and his music? Let me remind you. I’m tired of these scenes For the blue corn, won’t you bring back All those colours to my dreams Silver magic ships you carry Jumper’s Coke, sweet Mary Jane Sugarman met a false friend On a lonely dusty road Rodriguez was born in Michigan.
He only ever released two albums, Cold Fact and the second, Coming From Reality. Both flopped commercially in the US, but later became soundtracks to anti-establishment movements, particularly in South Africa, where he became a superstar. There he was more celebrated than Bob Dylan and Elvis Presley.
And the unbelievable thing about the story is that he never knew anything of this. He lived impoverished and only found out about his fame at the age of 56. The story then made global headlines and brought Rodriguez roaring back into the spotlight.
But sadly, he passed away quite recently. So his daughter, Sandra, takes up the story for us. I spent 60 years shoulder to shoulder with Rodriguez.
And so those songs are also a soundtrack to my life in my very existence. So I’m like living those lyrics and living those stories just like the rest of the world. The boy girl themes, the, you know, the political oppression themes, all of those songs resonate with the times today, the times yesterday, hopefully not all the times in the future.
Hopefully things will get better. Woman, please be gone. You stayed here much too long.
Don’t you wish that you could cry? Don’t you wish I would die? See me see saw kids, child women on the skids. The dust will choke you blind. The lust will choke your mind.
I kiss the floor one tick no more. The pig and the hoes have set me free. I tasted hate, streets, hanging trees.
I tasted hate, streets, hanging trees. Tell us a little bit about him. Give us a picture of who he was.
Well, his parents were both Mexican. He was very proud of his Mexican heritage. My uncle was a painter, so he came to paint the Ambassador Bridge.
And my grandfather, they had six children. And my dad was born to be a musician. I mean, I say he was, that was what he came here to do.
He walked it. He talked it. He dressed it.
He worked those songs. You know, that was what he was put here to do. He obviously grew up with all the stories of oppression and how difficult it had been for the Mexican immigrants to come to the U.S. For all the people of color.
We’re all in the same type of boat. We are all people of color, much marginalized, much skilled and talented as we are, still not making equal pay or still workers’ rights. Rodriguez raised me very political.
I’ve campaigned with him. We have many relationships. Every day he set out to do something that probably scared him, something exciting, something world changing, life changing.
And things are changed by people wild enough to believe they can be changed. And Rodriguez was wild enough to believe the world can be changed for better. The priest is preaching from a shallow grave.
He counts his money, then he paints you the same. Talking to the young folks, young folks share the same jokes, but they’ve beaten all the plates. Was he always so active politically? Always, very much so.
Even more when the times were very turbulent during civil rights with the united migrant workers and their plight there were babies being born, you know, with deformities because of the spraying and in the fields when people were out there and it was just too much. And we boycotted and protested and stopped trains and supermarkets, you know, to bring awareness to the conditions and things changed as a result. When did he first realize that music was to be his life? He said he’s been chasing music since he’s 15.
His brother gave him a set of guitar strings and he’s like, you know, these can change your life and you can make a lot of money with these. So it was a family guitar and, you know, they all were trying to play it and Rodriguez played it and learned it and mastered it and embraced it. Very cathartic music.
It helps you to deal with the stresses of life. It’s a release like arts and humanities. He certainly made some incredible music but it wasn’t really heard very much in America at the time.
Was he chasing success through his music or was he making music really primarily for himself? He was trying to get a product as he would have said, you know, and I know the answers to these because I was with him in all the interviews and all of the travels and he was trying to get a product. So he always said a person, everybody has value but you need a service or a product. So that CD, when he said Bag It Man at the end of that song, he was talking about those songs, put them on a record, bag it and let’s take it to the world and trying to do it to be a musician, to be the real deal, to not only call himself a musician but to do what musicians do.
So the way he dressed for Telling Me was part of the image that he created for himself. Most definitely, most definitely and it was his image and he has that image since the beginning I know his glasses, I have his hats, I have his glasses, his guitar, his boots, his magic coat, he wore it, you know, cover Rolling Stone, everything but he wasn’t a materialistic person. He used his stuff, really used it.
What was magic about his coat? Well, he called it the magic coat and he called it the money coat because he needed something special, you know, musicians usually have a magic coat of some sort and this one was and after he got the coat, he toured, he was on stage with the coat and he had money in his pocket so, you know, so he called it the money coat and sometimes he called it the magic coat. Who did he model himself on? The songs, the music, who did he aspire to be like? What musicians did he enjoy? Wow, that’s a tough question. He enjoyed listening a lot.
We lived in Detroit so we’re surrounded by East Coast, West Coast, Canada, all of the airwaves, all of the music that was out and about. He liked people who played guitar, anybody who played guitar, he would listen, you know, he didn’t listen to anybody in particular, he wasn’t like into bands and this is my band and none of that. Everybody had an equal shot, he wasn’t looking for a pretty voice, he said, so something else in the music he heard.
And he was self-taught on guitar? Yes, very much self-taught and he didn’t speak the language of an A, an E, a G, you know, like musicians like to say what chord is it in, what note, you know. Sandra, what was his writing process like? How did that look? Oh, I wish I could show you, he had his little black book and you could add more pages, he carried it with him everywhere, he would panic if he couldn’t find it. My songs, my songs, he kept it constantly on him in his hand, it’s in some of those pictures and he would just write lyrics, stop what he was doing, write more, write more, scribble it out, write again, right.
And we pretty much kept every shred of everything he’s touched for the last 50 years. So in terms of the writing, he would just jot down stuff as he was going through everyday life when something inspired him or would he sit down and make time to actually physically write a song? He would, phrases, he was very much into phrasing, coining a phrase, the way he phrased words. I’m sure that he, well, when I cleaned his house, he’s got like a dozen thesauruses, so I’m sure he would go through alternative words to use.
He wanted to master the English language, though he was from two Mexican parents and he spoke Spanish, he never spoke with an accent, he never embraced those stereotypes of what Mexicans or quote unquote should be, you know. He was an American male, he wanted to master the English language. A most disgusting song.
The local Diddy Bob pimp comes in. Acting limp, he sits down with a grin. Next to a girl that has never been chased.
The bartender wipes a smile off his face. The delegates cross the floor. Courtesy and promenade through the doors.
Slowly the evening begins. And there’s Jimmy bad luck butts. Who’s just crazy about the me sloppy at weekend sluts.
Talking as a lawyer in the crumpled up shirts. And everyone’s drinking the detergents that cannot remove their hurts. While the mafia provides your drugs.
Your government will provide the shrugs. And your National Guard will supply the slugs. So they sit all satisfied.
And there’s old playboy Ralph. Who’s always been shorter than himself. And there’s a man with his chin in his hand.
Who knows more than he’ll ever understand. Yeah, every night it’s the same old thing. Getting high, getting drunk, getting horny.
At the in-between. Again. A most disgusting song is really a very unconventional one.
It’s a playful tongue-in-cheek exercise in linguistic gymnastics. Rodriguez strings together words that tumble into each other. And it’s all deliberate.
On the surface, it feels silly like a throwaway sketch. But Rodriguez always had a razor sharp edge. The song shows the craftsman, the guy who wanted to conquer English, but also to twist it, mock it and make it dance.
And while Rodriguez played with language and constructed songs, he continued to work menial jobs, just trying to make ends meet. He did. He worked himself just as hard as anybody could work till he collapsed.
He would keep going 16, 18 hour days. And I think the reason behind that was because it helped him sleep. And I know the reason behind it was he would tell me, Sandra, a busy bee knows no sorrow.
So he’s had a lot of sorrow, but we stay busy. It keeps us from pining on it. So busy bee knows no sorrow.
And yeah, he had many wise phrases. Did he? I quote him all day. I’m like, Rodriguez would say, Rodriguez would say, you know, it just at least a dozen times a day.
I would say Rodriguez would say, you know, remember to breathe in and out. Or what? All day he was just full of this wisdom. Was it a huntsman or a player that made you pay the cost? That now assumes relaxed positions and prostitutes your loss? Were you tortured by your own thirst in those pleasures that you seek? That made you Tom the curious that makes you James the weak.
And you claim you got something going. Something you call unique. But I’ve seen yourself really showing.
As the tears roll down your cheeks. Soon, you know, I’ll leave you and I’ll never look behind. Because I was born for the purpose that crucifies your mind.
So can convince your mirror as you’ve always done before. Giving substance to shadows, giving substance evermore. Hang in to find out more about the man.
This is a breath of fresh air with Sandy Kaye. It’s a beautiful day. At the end of the 60s, the name Rodriguez was doing the rounds in Detroit’s small music bars.
Not very much was known about the singer, except that he could sing blues melodies with his incredibly charismatic voice. During his performances, he had a habit of turning his back on the audience, but it didn’t take long before he was snatched up by a record label. They found him.
I believe that it works, like, there are, like, talent scouts out there. Dennis Coffey, who’s a studio musician from Motown, recognized that in Rodriguez and took it to the hires up at Sussex Records and Buddha Records, and he got a contract. In fact, the executive to that, he said, I’m going to start my label with you, Rodriguez.
So not only did he get a record contract, he was going to start the whole new label success with Rodriguez, Sussex Records. So I don’t know where the money fell off, and we don’t talk about that a lot. We just, Rodriguez said, we’ll make new money, and I say what’s meant for you, won’t miss you, and we’ll get the money some point.
And he got some, you know, he made success. He’s a success. You know, he gets some of his royalties, very, very, very low percentage, but maybe my sisters and I will renegotiate that.
The mayor hides the crime rates Councilwoman hesitates Public gets irate But forgets the vote dates Weatherman complaining Predicted sun, it’s raining Everyone’s protesting Boyfriend keeps suggesting You’re not like all of the rest Garbage ain’t collected Women ain’t protected Politicians using People they’re abusing The mafia’s getting bigger Like pollution in the river And you tell me that this is where it’s at Woke up this morning with a lake in my head I splashed on my clothes as I spilled out of bed I opened the window to listen to the news But all I heard was the establishment’s blues How thrilled was he at the time to get a record deal? It was a really good year for him. It was very hard times. When he got the record deal, he was over the moon.
That’s what he wanted, you know, and that’s what musicians want. They want a record deal. They want somebody to help them.
You know, he didn’t see the success from that, but he’s seen it from the documentary, you know, so… Yeah, well, that came much later, didn’t it? That very first album that he produced, Cold Fact, that was the one that brought him to everybody’s attention. Walk us through some of your favourite tunes from Cold Fact. What can you tell us? Oh, I like I’ll Slip Away.
I like I’ll Slip Away. I sing Admit It a lot. I like I Think of You.
It’s so beautiful. Who did he write that about? My mom likes to say… My mom likes to claim that. So they were married then, and she likes to claim it, but I don’t know who a lot of them are about.
I’ll leave that just to… It’s about every woman, every man who think of each other. You’re the first thought when I wake up, the first last thought when I go to sleep. That’s who it’s about, you know, no one in particular.
Just a song we shared out here Brings memories back when you were here Of your smile, your easy laughter Of your kiss, those moments after I think of you And think of you And think of you And what about Sugar Man, Sandra? Tell us what you know about that. Sugar Man, he said, is a descriptive song and not a prescriptive song that it’s describing people find the relief in different ways. You know, all the vices that give us relief.
So as far as sugar in our coffee, sugar in our cereal, you know, sugar or be it the other things. But my dad wasn’t a drug user. He wasn’t, you know, he drank red wine and he smoked, you know, but he didn’t do any hard drugs.
Because when we first heard Sugar Man, of course, we thought it was referencing drugs. Are you saying it wasn’t? It definitely was drugs. Sweet Mary Jane and jumpers would be probably speed.
Coke would be probably coke. It is, it is. But it’s about all the other things that we turn to to bring the colors to our dreams kind of thing, you know.
Right. And of course, he was right in the midst of that whole environment at the time too, wasn’t he? Yes, Vietnam veterans were coming home. Many of them were getting addicted, cross addicted.
There was a lot of suffering and people were turning to it. It was being dumped in the inner cities and they were turning it to it to, you know, escape the pain and the mental torture that war creates for our soldiers. Sugar Man, won’t you hurry? Cause I’m tired of these scenes.
For a blue coin, won’t you bring back All those colors to my dreams Silver magic ships you carry Jumpers, coke, sweet Mary Jane Sugar Man, met a false friend On a lonely dusty road Lost my heart when I found it It had turned to dead black coal Silver magic ships you carry Jumpers, coke, sweet Mary Jane Sugar Man, you’re the answer That makes my questions disappear Sugar Man, cause I’m weary Of those double games I hear Sugar Man What happened after that record came out? After that record came out, not a lot happened. Not a lot happened. Things got progressively harder.
Things got progressively more racist, more police brutality, more discrimination. There was poverty. I won’t glamorize poverty.
So my dad continued to work. He worked at auto plants. He was a foreman.
He did house renovation. Was he disappointed that the record wasn’t getting any airplay? Sandy Kay, he would say he was too disappointed to be disappointed. And he prepared me for music by saying be ready for disappointment, be ready for rejection and be ready for criticism because that is all part of what you will experience in large degree being a musician.
So, you know, you think you wouldn’t want to do it but you’ve got to do it anyway. Sometimes you get the other, you know. My dad had some victories.
Yes, he sure did. But he seems to have possessed such a wisdom. I mean, he hadn’t lived the disappointment until that time yet he somehow knew that that was part of the industry.
He coined all of these phrases and wrote about the things around him in such a profound fashion that it was almost prophetic in a lot of ways, wasn’t it? It certainly was. There are things that he said, you know, all those years ago that are just spot on today. So what that tells me is that as a human race, we need to make further advances.
We shouldn’t be caught up on the same issues that we can resolve. He was a big proponent of women being in politics, women changing the world because we are creators. We are born to create.
We don’t, we’re not here to destroy. We have answers. We have a different sensibilities.
So he really encouraged women to be out there in the political arena. I wonder how many times you’ve been had and I wonder how many times you’ve gone bad. I wonder how many times you’ve had sex and I wonder who will be next.
I wonder, I wonder, wonder I do. I wonder how much going have you gotten. I wonder about your friends that are not.
I wonder. He was a very humble man, wasn’t he? He wasn’t interested in any of life’s trappings. That is so true.
He never went to malls or shopped or online. He just said you need food, shelter and clothing and anything above that is just like icing on the cake. He wasn’t a spender.
He had all that he needed. He didn’t want you giving him any more stuff. He was very selective about any stuff, any belongings.
He wasn’t hoarding anything like buying stuff. And he lived very, very humbly too, didn’t he, in the house? Yeah. And I always use scripture because I am an ordained minister and I just say a borrower is a slave to the lender.
So he didn’t want to be a slave. So he bought the worst house in the best neighbourhood. He paid $100.
And that kept him free to not have to have that house no, you know, $1,500 a month. And he kept his utilities way low. I mean, he wanted an $8 bill, an $8 light bill, a $2.
You know, he didn’t want to give the utilities his money. He would rather give it to somebody else. So he was very strategic and really determined to have a very light thumbprint, green thumbprint.
So Cold Fact is out. It’s not selling in the U.S. particularly well at all. What happens then that success does start to come to him? Well, he kept trying to reinvent himself and then he recorded the second album.
He went to London and he just kept trying. And once he put it out there, it was up to the universe to take it where it’s going to go. You know, you do your part and then you just sit back and say, I did my best, and he said he did his best.
And he always believed that what he was due would come to him. You didn’t have to push. You didn’t have to try and control.
That if he was going to be successful and if he was going to make money out of it, that it would just find him. Was that his way of thinking? We independently were self-promoters. So we would go to the radio stations.
We would go to the college radio stations. We would go to the newspapers. We would promote ourselves.
We’d leave CDs. We would do shows. You know, you sell where you play.
So he would do shows in all the bars, all the festivals, all the ethnic festivals. And he just, the parks, you know, wherever, anywhere. And was he popular doing those? No.
No, he just would play and people would like him, but there was nobody, like, buying tickets. They would come to the bar and like him and listen to him, but there’s a lot of musicians who do that and that, you know, it doesn’t pay their bills. But he did say he made like $50 a night and that was really good money and he was really pleased with that.
So he probably couldn’t do it enough. It was getting to do what he loved. So, yes, they paid him.
But you’re the coldest bitch I know. You’re the factory that she called yours. My sister.
A master thief. The second album was coming from reality in 71. Did he pay for his own trip to London to record that or the record company brought him across to record? They paid for it, yes, and they probably came in advance.
Did they promote him much? Not as much. When you have a big label behind you, you know, usually they distribute it for you and somehow it made its way across the ocean, but I don’t think it was from, you know, the Sussex because from what I hear is they went bankrupt and all of this other stuff. So, you know, the music industry has always been a little bit grey areas of how you actually make money, but there’s a lot of money to be made in music, you know.
As much as he tried and as humble a man as he was, I still don’t understand how he wasn’t disappointed in his what appeared to be failings at that time. He was. He was very disappointed.
He was sad a lot. I was kind of like his cheerleaders, pep squad. I wouldn’t let anybody berate him or try to get him down.
I would stick up for him, but he did. He was very sensitive, but at the same time, his pride would just not let him stop. He would just hold his head higher and you’re like, I guess we’ve got to work harder.
Quitting isn’t an option for any of us, especially for Rodriguez. He’s a very determined individual. Why wasn’t quitting an option? Because he would make change himself.
If there was a blighted out building, an eyesore, he would just get out there and clean the whole lot, make it look like a park. So he visibly, physically, he seen change and he preferred it to be clean. So he knew how to fix things.
We can solve it. The generals hate holidays Others shoot up to chase the sun blues away Another storefront church is open Sea of neon lights A boxer, his shadow fights Soldier tired and sailor broken Winter’s asleep at my window Cold wind waits at my door She asks me up to her place But I won’t be down anymore Judges with meter-made hearts Or their supermarket justice starts Frozen children in their city And so Rodriguez simply refused to let himself get down.
This is a breath of fresh air with Sandy Kaye. It’s a beautiful day. There was still some time, wasn’t it, before he actually realized some success.
Tell us about how that came to be. My story is different than the documentary. I told them the first thing that we noticed was Australia.
He was on the charts in 1979. He was on the Billboard charts. He would read Billboard magazine, which is like the Bible of the industry, that polestar.
So he’s seen his name on the charts. We’ve seen it ourselves. He’s looking Australian charts, Rodriguez, number 11, Colfax.
So you’re saying to me that Australia broke him, that he hit the Australian charts with Colfax before it got to South Africa. He, that is, and I said this, but when they were doing the documentary, they said, we’re focusing on South Africa. But I’m always the one saying what really happened, because I was there.
Yeah, absolutely, and I certainly want to set the record straight. So you’re saying it was 1979 that he was on the charts, despite the fact that that album was made in 1970. That’s quite a long period of time.
So somebody has obviously bought copies of that album here and word spread like wildfire here about Rodriguez, and we couldn’t get enough of him. It was on our turntables all the time. How did he feel about that when he first saw that he’d made the charts in Australia? We didn’t know it was as big as you’re telling me.
Even to this day, it gives me chills to hear you say that, because that’s what we were looking for. That’s what we were trying to achieve, and here it was happening without us knowing it. And then when we found out, things started happening, and we did 13 cities in Australia.
They gave him gold and platinum albums when we were there on the ship The Endeavour, one of the first ships. It’s a real famous Australian ship. But Rodriguez has been there six times.
What do you think it was about Rodriguez’s music that appealed so strongly to an Australian audience? Well, after having been to Australia, which Rodriguez had been around the world, he said Australia should be the capital of the world, and I believe it is because they are freer thinkers. They’re not indoctrinated like here in America. They tell you what to drink, what to listen to, what to think, what to do.
Where in Australia, you might just be able to listen to the birds singing or something, and the music. But here, the bigger names are going to sell more, Simon and Garfunkel, the ones they’re pushing. It was too political.
It might have got people riled up and started a revolution. I don’t know. Hello, darkness, my old friend Because a vision softly creeping Left its seeds while I was sleeping And the vision that was planted in my brain Still remains within the sound of silence In restless dreams I walked alone Narrow streets of cobblestone Near the hill of a street lamp I turned my collar to the cold and damp When my eyes were stared by the flash of a neon light It split the night And touched the sound of silence At that time, at the late 70s, his albums really did start to gain significant airplay both here in Australia, in Africa, in Botswana, in New Zealand, in Zimbabwe and in South Africa.
According to the documentary, people had smuggled copies of the album across to South Africa and Africa just went crazy about him, didn’t they? Yes. And maybe it was saying all the things they wanted to say and were either too afraid to say, couldn’t say, but they could sing it. So, yes, it’s like singing, We’re not going to take it, you know, like one of those anthems, you know.
He wasn’t speaking directly about apartheid. He was speaking about the troubles that he’d grown up with and seen in his own domain. But they adopted all of that as their own.
We’re all going through the same thing in different parts of the world in different levels and degrees of oppression and injustice and inequality. So it’s no secret. Now that we have the internet, it’s all out there.
Everybody can see what’s happening. So it’s going to help put an end to some of the nonsense. Going down the dirty inner city side of the road I plodded Madness passed me by She smiled high I nodded Looked up at the sky Began to cry She shot it Met a girl from Dearborn Early six o’clock this morning Colfax Asked her by the bag Suburbia’s such a drag Don’t go back Because Papa don’t allow no new ideas here And now he sees the news But the picture’s not too clear Mama, Papa’s not treasure what you got Soon you may be caught without it The curfew set for rain Will it ever all be straight? I doubt it When he did become incredibly popular in South Africa they compared him to artists like Bob Dylan and Cat Stevens.
How did he feel about that? Well, he would say Dylan wrote 20 albums and he said I had one album so he would always give credit to Dylan You know, there’s like My dad loved Dylan He tried to see him before He had Bach set Music shouldn’t be a competition either You know, it should just be Hey, you’re great I’m great She’s great We’re all rock and roll queens and kings But there were rumors around, as you said earlier that his life had ended He was particularly elusive People here, I remember, tried to get hold of him at the time and could never find him And there were rumors that abounded that he’d actually tried to kill himself Yeah How come? That wouldn’t happen Rodriguez, we’re not really sure But he would say Maybe somebody just say he burned out and they turned that around We have no idea My own personal one is Hey, if he’s dead, they don’t have to pay him Did they pay him? Or they didn’t pay him what he was due? They didn’t pay him We grew up in Yeah He should have been paid But like I said He had later on down in life So everything in the right time in the right season But yeah, there was some bookkeeping that was off, you know So he couldn’t waste time crying about it He said, you don’t want me weak So he just continued to be strong And did he eventually see the fruits of his labor while he was still alive? Yes, yes And just those crowds You know, 6,000 people came to Barclays That was the first show back in 2013 And even when they showed up in Australia But I don’t know what happened after Why it didn’t just continue So 79 and then nothing again till 98 That’s the difficult part We had that one success And then nothing again till 98 He made enough to get comfortable for a minute And pay his student loans And pay our tuition And then nothing, you know No more tours, no more whatever I just don’t know what happened Did he continue writing songs in the interim? Yes, yes And then he had songs that he had written previously When he wrote those others that he just hadn’t recorded Or that he was still working on And I’ll forget about the girl that said no Then I’ll tell who I want, where to go And I’ll forget about your lies and deceit And your attempts to be so discreet Maybe today, yeah I’ll slip away And you can keep your symbols of success Then I’ll pursue my own happiness And you can keep your clocks and routines Then I’ll go mend all my shattered dreams Maybe today, yeah I’ll slip away There was something very special about that first album And I guess he was never able to recreate that iconic sound Or the reason that that touched so many people all over the world And for an artist, that would be really difficult I guess he would have experienced that too Right, and that’s why he chose not to do anything They offered him a feature film about his life To have a miniseries But he’s like, it’s already been done with a documentary It was done in such a way that it’s won 40 awards He’s like, why mess with something that’s already great? We’ve done it That’s what he said I said, why dad, why, why? I want to do it You know, let’s do it Because it’s already been done, he said So he leaves me a lot to think about Yeah, 40 awards, that documentary won Including an Academy Academy, yes, Oscar Is it true that in announcing that award He didn’t even own a television set on which to watch the show? Very true He doesn’t own any of those kind of things Yes, no And how did he feel about being honoured so? Well, he would give credit where credit is due When we went on there Thursday And we screened the documentary at Sundance Film Festival Sony Classic Pictures was there They purchased the film and distributed it to 58 countries Now, had they distributed to 58 countries When he did Colfax, he would have been a massive hit But Sony is the reason why Rodriguez surfaced In my opinion, besides Malick making the documentary And putting the South African story They are responsible for it He must have been surprised That there was even such an interest in his story I can imagine the man that he was Wouldn’t have thought very much about his own story Or his own music particularly, did he? Not at all He was not interested in doing any biotopics In telling anything much about his self He’s just an ordinary legend, he said Nothing personal He was never into telling any personal thing Keep his mystery alive He liked to keep himself a bit of a mystery Certainly, yes, he was good at that Why? Very stoic, he didn’t like people coming to his house As long as he’s in the public, then he’s public But when he was in his private And he even said no to the documentary Over and over again Because they came to his house Like, don’t come And then they came in February When it’s super cold here And he said, okay, all right, I’ll do it He gave in He gave in because they were so persistent And they came here And of course, there have been several films about him Done since the documentary One of the big ones we did was 60 Minutes And then The Letterman His health started suffering in, what, about 2010, 2013 Something like that He started to suffer from glaucoma, didn’t he? Yeah, he had glaucoma for a number of years And he was fortunate because he did get an operation That many people don’t get with the flaps To release the pressure So he kept his vision for a little longer than most But he did, it did take his vision And he also kept that very private, you know I feel like I’m spilling all his secrets He kept that very private He didn’t want people to know He thought it would make him more vulnerable So he didn’t let people know he couldn’t see We would help him on stage, put his hand on the mic And then he was on his own And you’re measured for wealth By the things you can hold And you’re measured for love By the sweet things you’re told And you live in the past Of a dream that you’re in And your selfishness is your cardinal sin And you want to be held With highest regard It delights you so much If he’s trying so hard And you’re trying to conceal Your ordinary way With a smile or a shrug Or some stolen cliché But don’t you understand And don’t you look about I’m trying to take nothing from you So why should you act so proud For me Did he feel sorry for himself? He never expressed that he felt sorry for himself But for me, it was the most gut-wrenching thing He kept writing songs too, didn’t he? In total, he only actually completed about 30 songs That sounds about right We were going to go to Palm Springs After we did the tour We were going to go into the studio And it didn’t happen They weren’t ready for us And my dad was so extremely disappointed And I had never seen that before It took the whip out of him Because he was ready And he knew it was now or never And it ended up being never Because it didn’t happen then He suffered a stroke in 2023, didn’t he? And died as a result Yep, a culmination of anything He did 250 shows or more We thought he was coming back from it It got worse instead of better But yes, he had his limelight 2013, 2014, 2015 People started to know him And we sold the big shows Amazing Thank you so much for your time today Thank you It’s wonderful to learn more about his story And his music From the person closest to him Thank you, Sandy It’s a beautiful day