SUGARMAN: THE LIFE, DEATH AND RESURRECTION OF SIXTO RODRIGUEZ
Craig Bartholomew Strydom and Stephen Sugar Segerman, (R189)
Penguin House
REVIEW: Paul Eksteen
THAT title, with its biblical allusion, is perhaps apt for a man whose first name many once thought was Jesus. And though so many of his followers had not seen him, he lived on in the words that haunted his singular cannon.
That gospel, as it was, seemed to speak to those at odds with the prevailing establishment. And his second coming proved that Jesus was, in fact, alive. But more importantly, so was Sixto, his brother – the enigmatic troubadour in dark glasses, seated in a lotus position on the cover of his seminal work Cold Fact, who claimed he was born for the purpose of crucifying your mind. Sugar Man, the title of his most famous song, describes an encounter with a drug pusher, and the search for this elusive musician in itself took the form of a kind of addiction.
For two “musicologist detectives”, a term birthed in the infancy of their search, the enigma of what had happened to the musician that had provided the soundtrack to their lives was a habit they simply couldn’t kick. Craig Strydom and Stephen “Sugar” Segerman, despite the nagging intervention of life and real-world pressures, kept their fantasy alive of one day finding the musician who had only ever made an impact here and in Australia and, as the popular myth dictated, had committed suicide on stage.
That they managed to find him was both a miracle, and testament to their perseverance. Rodriguez, after a brush with the cut-throat music industry and a brief dalliance in politics, had returned to blue-collar obscurity. He didn’t even own a guitar any more. But their persistence paid off in a story that was turned into an Oscar-winning documentary, Searching For Sugarman.
This book details the scholarly totality of their search – filling in the blanks of an adventure that ended in the resuscitation of a music career that was thought stillborn, but had in fact taken on a life of its own. It paints a picture of two unlikely heroes, unwaveringly holding on to an iconic fragment of their youth and, in the process, unearthing their idol. That path to eventual glory at the Academy Awards, and the subsequent seal of approval from the Hollywood elite, was no mean feat.
Rodriguez, at nearly 60 years old, would discover the kind of teething problems with fame and touring logistics that a young band at the start of their journey could so easily discard in the vapours of rock and roll excess. Or think they can. How many promising acts fall apart when the nature of business intrudes on their creative energy?
Sugar, who on various occasions found himself managing the Rodriguez tours, felt a divide starting to wedge itself between him and the artist who he had brought back, seemingly from the dead. Despite his newfound fame, and sell-out adoration, Rodriguez resolutely remained a publicity-shy rock star and this book captures his struggle to make sense of his new reality.
But life is like that and, as Rodriguez himself said, nothing beats reality. This chronicle of the search for the Sugarman is packed with hope, miracles, heartbreak and eccentricities. It’s about a musician whose music is as relevant today as it was when it was first conceived, three decades ago. But it is also about Sugar, who in a very roundabout way searches for something meaningful and ends up finding himself. It’s a must for music historians, Rodriguez fans, and those who dream of impossible things.