In 1968, two producers went to a downtown Detroit bar to see an unknown recording artist – a charismatic Mexican-American singer/songwriter named Rodriguez, who had attracted a local following with his mysterious presence, soulful melodies and prophetic lyrics. They were immediately bewitched by the singer, and thought they had found a musical folk hero in the purest sense – an artist who reminded them of a Chicano Bob Dylan, perhaps even greater. They had worked with the likes of Marvin Gaye and Stevie Wonder, but they believed the album they subsequently produced with Rodriguez – Cold Fact – was the masterpiece of their producing careers.

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Despite good reviews, Cold Fact was a commercial disaster and marked the end of Rodriguez’s recording career before it had even started. Rodriguez sank back into obscurity. All that trailed him were stories of his escalating depression, and eventually he fell so far off the music industry’s radar that when it was rumored he had committed suicide, there was no conclusive report of exactly how and why. Of all the stories that circulated about his death, the most sensational – and the most widely accepted – was that Rodriguez had set himself ablaze on stage 4 having delivered these final lyrics: “But thanks for your time, then you can thank me for mine and after that’s said, forget it.” The album’s sales never revived, the label the label folded and Rodriguez’s music seemed destined for oblivion.

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This was not the end of Rodriguez's story. A bootleg recording of Cold Fact somehow found its way to South Africa in the early 1970s, a time when South Africa was becoming increasingly isolated as the Apartheid regime tightened its grip. Rodriguez's anti-establishment lyrics and observations as an outsider in urban America felt particularly resonant for a whole generation of disaffected Afrikaners. The album quickly developed an avid following through word-of-mouth among the white liberal youth, with local pressings made. In typical response, the reactionary government banned the record, ensuring no radio play, which only served to further fuel its cult status. The mystery surrounding the artist's death helped secure Rodriguez's place in rock legend and Cold Fact quickly became the anthem of the white resistance in Apartheid-era South Africa. Over the next two decades Rodriguez became a household name in the country and Cold Fact went platinum.

Cold Fact {1970}

1.Sugar Man 0:00
2. Only Good For Conversation 3:49
3. Crucify Your Mind 6:14
4.This Is Not A Song, It's An Outburst 8:46
5. Hate Street Dialogue 10:53
6. Forget It 13:26
7. Inner City Blues 15:15
8. I Wonder 18:41
9. Like Janis 21:15
10. Gommorah (A Nursery Rhyme) 23:51
11. Rich Folks Hoax 26:12
12. Jane S. Piddy 29:15

Light In The Attic/Sony Legacy 1 CD/2 LP

The story remains one of the music world’s most unusual tales of the 1970s: an obscure debut LP by a Detroit singer-songwriter becomes a source of hope and inspiration to the anti-Apartheid movement in South Africa. Now, the story of Rodriguez and his cult album Cold Fact is the basis for Searching For Sugar Man, a riveting new documentary by filmmaker Malik Bendjelloul. Light In The Attic Records in partnership with Sony Legacy are honored to announce the release of the original motion picture soundtrack, comprising tracks from Cold Fact and its 1971 follow-up Coming From Reality – both reissued in 2008 and 2009 by Light In The Attic. The soundtrack begins with the otherworldly “Sugar Man” and acts as a primer to this long-overlooked musician’s fusion of gritty funk, political poetry and blissful psych-folk.

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Back in the late ‘60s, Rodriguez was discovered in a Detroit bar by renowned producers Dennis Coffey and Mike Theodore. They recorded a 1970 album that they believed was going to secure his reputation as one of the greatest recording artists of his generation. Instead, Cold Fact bombed, and despite the release of a second LP, entitled Coming From Reality and produced by Steve Rowland, Rodriguez drifted into obscurity, even being subject to some fantastic rumors of a dramatic onstage death.

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Cold Fact took on a life of its own when a bootleg recording found its way into apartheid-era South Africa. Banned by the government, the album became a country-wide phenomenon over the next two decades, and the soundtrack to a resistance movement of liberal African youth. Back in Detroit, working in construction and renovation (he also ran for mayor), Rodriguez was totally unaware that he was not just a folk hero but a household name thousands of miles away.

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Decades later, two South African fans, Stephen ‘Sugar’ Segerman and Craig Bartholomew-Strydom set out to find out what really happened to their hero, and their investigation led them to a story more extraordinary than any of the many myths they’d heard. Their story forms the basis of Searching For Sugar Man.

Coming From Reality {1971}

Climb Up On My Music

A Most Disgusting Song

I Think Of You

Heikki's Suburbia Bus Tour

Silver Words

Lifestyles

To Whom It May Concern

It Started Out So Nice

Halfway Up The Stairs

Cause

Can't Get Away

Street Boy

I'll Slip Away

Amazing story and songs For a man to not know for years how much his music meant... still just amazes me.

Dead Men Don't Tour: Rodriguez in South Africa 1998

Gunsnhalen said:

Amazing story and songs For a man to not know for years how much his music meant... still just amazes me.

I checked out the movie from the library and thought it was interesting.

Article about the royalty money trail.

http://www.freep.com/article/20130517/COL18/305170139/

dalsh327 said:

Article about the royalty money trail.

http://www.freep.com/arti.../305170139

I'm not sure Rodriguez is going to get anything from the old sales. The labels have been ripping off the acts since recording started and still does so today. But he does get paid from the current sales, but I don't know about the sales from Africa.

Awesome documentary. Gives Clarence Avant the side eye..........smh...........

MickyDolenz said:

In 1968, two producers went to a downtown Detroit bar to see an unknown recording artist – a charismatic Mexican-American singer/songwriter named Rodriguez, who had attracted a local following with his mysterious presence, soulful melodies and prophetic lyrics. They were immediately bewitched by the singer, and thought they had found a musical folk hero in the purest sense – an artist who reminded them of a Chicano Bob Dylan, perhaps even greater. They had worked with the likes of Marvin Gaye and Stevie Wonder, but they believed the album they subsequently produced with Rodriguez – Cold Fact – was the masterpiece of their producing careers.

.

Despite good reviews, Cold Fact was a commercial disaster and marked the end of Rodriguez’s recording career before it had even started. Rodriguez sank back into obscurity. All that trailed him were stories of his escalating depression, and eventually he fell so far off the music industry’s radar that when it was rumored he had committed suicide, there was no conclusive report of exactly how and why. Of all the stories that circulated about his death, the most sensational – and the most widely accepted – was that Rodriguez had set himself ablaze on stage 4 having delivered these final lyrics: “But thanks for your time, then you can thank me for mine and after that’s said, forget it.” The album’s sales never revived, the label the label folded and Rodriguez’s music seemed destined for oblivion.

.

This was not the end of Rodriguez's story. A bootleg recording of Cold Fact somehow found its way to South Africa in the early 1970s, a time when South Africa was becoming increasingly isolated as the Apartheid regime tightened its grip. Rodriguez's anti-establishment lyrics and observations as an outsider in urban America felt particularly resonant for a whole generation of disaffected Afrikaners. The album quickly developed an avid following through word-of-mouth among the white liberal youth, with local pressings made. In typical response, the reactionary government banned the record, ensuring no radio play, which only served to further fuel its cult status. The mystery surrounding the artist's death helped secure Rodriguez's place in rock legend and Cold Fact quickly became the anthem of the white resistance in Apartheid-era South Africa. Over the next two decades Rodriguez became a household name in the country and Cold Fact went platinum.

silkman said:

Awesome documentary. Gives Clarence Avant the side eye..........smh...........

In the movie, he didn't seem too happy to be asked about where the money went. The African record company said they sent money to Sussex Records for Rodriguez sales. But a lot of sales were from bootlegs though. Bill Withers was on Sussex too, and I think he had problems with it. I think Clarence Avant was with Motown for awhile too.

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On the DVD commentary, Rodriguez talks a bit more about how the records were recorded.

MickyDolenz said:

silkman said:

Awesome documentary. Gives Clarence Avant the side eye..........smh...........

In the movie, he didn't seem too happy to be asked about where the money went. The African record company said they sent money to Sussex Records for Rodriguez sales. But a lot of sales were from bootlegs though. Bill Withers was on Sussex too, and I think he had problems with it. I think Clarence Avant was with Motown for awhile too.

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On the DVD commentary, Rodriguez talks a bit more about how the records were recorded.

He was not happy at all. Which, made him look extra guilty. He's the same dude who sold the Tabu catalog to Demon records (fitting title for that label, considering the quality of the Tabu reissues, uggggghhhhh, digressing.....lol). I was really disappointed in his actions, when they questioned him in the movie. From what I read, he was too. As a matter of fact, I believe he said he was embarrassed by that scene in the movie.

silkman said:

He was not happy at all. Which, made him look extra guilty. He's the same dude who sold the Tabu catalog to Demon records (fitting title for that label, considering the quality of the Tabu reissues, uggggghhhhh, digressing.....lol). I was really disappointed in his actions, when they questioned him in the movie. From what I read, he was too. As a matter of fact, I believe he said he was embarrassed by that scene in the movie.

In the article that dalsh327 posted a link to above, Avant says something about he's happy for Rodriguez's new found fame, but it will be over in a year. That doesn't sound like something nice to say. Then he gripes again about money inquiries.

"Street Boy" is an amazing track. Quite a few people claim that at least a part of this documentary is fabricated - for instance, Rodriguez was far from "forgotten" (although still obscure), because he was also reportedly as popular in Australia as he was in Africa.

SamSamba said:

"Street Boy" is an amazing track. Quite a few people claim that at least a part of this documentary is fabricated - for instance, Rodriguez was far from "forgotten" (although still obscure), because he was also reportedly as popular in Australia as he was in Africa.

I thought this documentary was awesome but the part about portions being fabricated is interesting.