Sylvester was one of the most iconic disco musicians. His hit song “You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real)” is a classic that still gets folks on the dance floor decades after its release. But while Sylvester had the gift of making everyone feel safe and free, he struggled to find the same protection in his own life. Having been shunned by the communities he grew up in and dropped by record labels despite being a proven musical success, he had to knock down barriers and move on his own.
He made his own lane that took him to new heights while remaining true to his queer identity. For this Black Music Month and Pride Month, we’re looking back at Sylvester, one of disco’s most important pioneers.
Early Years
Born on September 6, 1947, in South Central Los Angeles, Sylvester James was raised primarily by his mother and grandmother, two women who shaped his earliest sense of self through their proud sense of style and unapologetic presence. In the Amazon Music documentary “Love Me Like You Should: The Brave and Bold Sylvester,” his sister Bernadette Baldwin recalled, “My grandmother was like his idol. He just loved the way she dressed, the way she carried herself, and that trickled down to my mother, and they accepted him for who he was.” That acceptance from the women closest to him became foundational.
A Musical Child
Sylvester’s love for music arrived early. As a young boy, he joined the choir at his local Pentecostal church, where he began developing the iconic falsetto that would later define his sound. At home, he was constantly singing. He especially loved Etta James, and would sing along to her records with his mother, according to Baldwin. That early training, rooted in gospel and soul, gave him the vocal foundation he’d carry throughout his life.
Rejected By The Church
Despite his talent and passion, his time in the choir ended abruptly. At 13 years old, Sylvester was ostracized from his church for being gay and forced to leave the first place that had given him permission to perform. But being rejected didn’t make him retreat into silence. Instead, he grew bolder.
Never One To Conform
The disco musician was never one to hide his extravagant personality. According to the AIDS Monument, an organization focused on teaching the history of the AIDS epidemic, Sylvester arrived for his high school graduation photo wearing his hair in a beehive and draped in a blue dress. This was a monumental show of confidence at the time. Beyond the racism he faced as a Black man, dressing in gender-nonconforming ways was cause for arrest in Los Angeles under local ordinance. But Sylvester refused to apologize for existing as himself.
Joining The Disquotays
Out of high school, Sylvester joined a Los Angeles-based group of Black drag queens and transgender women called the Disquotays, where he went by the nickname Dooni. According to The Los Angeles Times, Sylvester was the one other members counted on to do their hair before a night out. He attended masquerades and festivals with the group, always adorned in an outfit that commanded attention. This was his community, and they gave him the freedom he couldn’t find anywhere else.
The Move To San Francisco
In 1970, at 22 years old, Sylvester decided to leave Los Angeles for San Francisco, joining a group of local drag performers called the Cockettes. With them, he performed solo segments in their shows, pulling from the jazz traditions of Josephine Baker and Billie Holiday. The city’s queer scene offered something Los Angeles couldn’t: a place where he could be completely himself.
Going Solo
Touring with the Cockettes wasn’t quite enough. Sylvester wanted more, wanted bigger. In 1972, he formed Sylvester and the Hot Band, blending funk and rock into something new. They released two albums in 1973 before disbanding that same year. On his own again, Sylvester signed with Fantasy Records under Harvey Fuqua, the legendary executive who saw his potential.
With the deal came backup singers Martha Wash and Izora Rhodes, two gospel-trained vocalists who would later become known as The Weather Girls. For Sylvester, this meant returning to his choir roots, but this time with the freedom the church had denied him. These were artists who understood his vision and shared his spirituality.
Becoming The Disco Queen
Sylvester’s first solo album dropped in 1977 and performed well. But it was “Step II” in 1978, and specifically the single “You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real),” that changed everything. Fully embracing the disco scene with his soaring falsetto, Sylvester became known as “The Disco Queen,” a title he wore with absolute pride. The song was electric, urgent, celebratory. It sounded like freedom.
Billboard awarded him Best Male Singer at their 1978 Disco Forum. “Step II” went gold in 1979. Soon he was opening for Chaka Khan, David Bowie, the Commodores. The mainstream was finally ready for what San Francisco already knew.
Fully Embraced In San Francisco
San Francisco’s queer community embraced him completely. In 1979, riding high on his success, Sylvester became the first openly gay artist to perform at San Francisco’s War Memorial Opera House. That same night, then-Mayor Dianne Feinstein presented him with the key to the city. It was a moment of official recognition for someone who had never tried to be anything other than himself.
Dropped By His Record Label
The success didn’t last with Fantasy Records. In 1980, despite everything he’d accomplished, they dropped him. Executives didn’t want a queer, gender-bending Black man as the face of their label. When Sylvester refused to dim his light, they let him go. He moved to Megatone Records, the label of his friend Patrick Cowley, and recorded four more albums there. The decision to walk away on his own terms proved to be exactly what he needed.
Used His Platform For Good
Sylvester understood the power he held and used it to advocate for those who needed it most. He performed at Pride events in San Francisco and London in 1979. In 1982, he joined Joan Rivers and Charles Nelson Reilly for an AIDS fundraiser at Los Angeles’ Studio One nightclub. He performed benefit concerts and released “Trouble in Paradise” in 1983, raising awareness about the crisis unfolding around him. These weren’t performative gestures. This was a statement piece of solidarity.
Showing Up For His Community
In 1987, his partner Rick Cranmer died of AIDS. That same year, Sylvester was also diagnosed. By 1988, his health had deteriorated rapidly. He was hospitalized with pneumonia, but even in crisis, he kept showing up. In June, he appeared at the Gay Freedom Parade in a wheelchair. That October, when the Castro Street Fair announced they were dedicating a tribute to him, Sylvester gave press interviews to raise awareness about AIDS even though he was too sick to attend. He was advocating for his community right up until the end.
Gone Too Soon
Sylvester passed away in December 1988 at age 41 from AIDS-related complications. His funeral was held with an open casket, and he was dressed in a red kimono, a final act of defiance and beauty. In his will, he left all future royalties to Project Open Hand and the AIDS Emergency Fund, ensuring his legacy would continue supporting those affected by the disease he couldn’t survive.
Legacy
Today, Sylvester is celebrated for his iconic dance hits, but during his lifetime, he had to carve out safe spaces in a world that actively resisted his existence. His fearlessness and unapologetic self-expression became a blueprint for artists who came after him. In 2005, seventeen years after his death, he was inducted into the Dance Music Hall of Fame.
“Pose” star Billy Porter captured what made Sylvester irreplaceable in the Amazon Music documentary “Love Me Like You Should: The Brave and Bold Sylvester”: “He crossed over. He was a genderfluid Black man in mainstream music. That hasn’t happened since. There have been a lot of us who have tried, and I’ve been trying for 30 years. Nobody did it like Sylvester.”
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