Let Love Rule - Lenny Kravitz Page 0,63

basis. We switched off on vocals, switched off on instruments, and generated some material. So far, so good. Then Sly Stone came to town.

Sly actually moved into the Oakwood. I was thrilled to meet him. He was one of the titans. I’d watch him coming out of his apartment dressed to the nines, with a woman on each arm. Both Tony and I idolized Sly. But Tony took it even further. He wanted to embody Sly; he wanted to be him. I was cool just seeing Sly around the complex, but Tony started seeking him out, and then hanging regularly in his apartment. Then Tony disappeared for days, which turned into weeks. Come to find out, they were bingeing on crack together. Our production came to a screeching halt. Eventually, though, Tony showed up to do some work.

Then came another problem: a beautiful girl named Sonia. I’d met her in Nassau when my cousin Jennifer got married. Sonia was smart, gorgeous, irresistible. I fell hard, really hard. I ran up a huge phone bill keeping in touch with her, until I finally convinced her to come to L.A. to stay with me at the Oakwood. She met Tony and, for a few days, everything was cool. Then came the afternoon when Tony and Sonia hopped on his bike to grab food. I was fine with that—until they didn’t return that night. Or the next night. Or the night after.

I was really scared that something had happened. Did they get in an accident? Were they alive? I didn’t think in a million years that Tony would steal my girl. But that’s exactly what he did. When they finally showed up three days later, their lame explanation was that they’d been exploring Malibu. I was heartbroken. I really loved this girl. But to Tony, she was just a plaything. I told Sonia I couldn’t do this. She had to leave. I booked her a flight back to Nassau and rode her to LAX on my bike. Saying good-bye hurt.

But music is a powerful force—so powerful that, in spite of his stealing my girl, Tony and I stuck together. I hung in with him. We went back to making demos. We put together a live showcase that I co-produced. I played bass and backed Tony while he sang lead. Sheila E., who had hit it big with “The Glamorous Life” and was the opening act for the Purple Rain tour, told Prince about us. Prince signed Tony, who wanted me as part of the deal. Prince told Tony that although his shit was funky, the recordings didn’t sound like professional records, and that he’d need a producer. I completely disagreed. The rawness was one of the chief elements that defined Tony.

Prince had a vision of Tony that was smoother and more synthetic. Thus, he hired producer David Gamson. A multi-instrumentalist, Gamson was one half of British duo Scritti Politti and composer of most of their massive hits. He was king of the synths. Look, I loved Scritti, I had their CD, but to me that sound had nothing to do with Tony.

Still, Tony drank the Kool-Aid. His funk got diluted. He was convinced cleaning up his sound would mean commercial success. Desperately searching for a smash, he rushed into the synth pop era directed by a man who helped define that era. When Tony’s Gamson-produced album on Prince’s Paisley Park Records was released, I was still rooting for him. I genuinely wanted him to succeed. The album was clean and professional and Tony sang his ass off. But when the record didn’t sell, and the songs, caught in that techno bubble, already sounded dated, I realized one thing for sure: you can’t fuck with your musical DNA without losing something sacred. I was still looking for the sacred. And not even a figure as imposing as Prince could convince me it was there when my heart said it wasn’t.

A few years later, while working on a second album, Tony died in a tragic accident on the Pacific Coast Highway in Malibu. That broke my heart. For all that had gone down between us, I still thought of Tony as my brother and a man of enormous talent. I only wish the world had the opportunity to hear the pure musical spirit that I knew lived deep within his soul.

COLLEGE

I didn’t go to college, but I did. That is, on a regular basis, I’d go visit my friends at college. Eliza Steinberg and Jane