As a member of EWF during its heyday, Johnson was arguably the band’s most important member outside of founder Maurice White. Blending Motown-style songwriting with the harder-edged R&B of Parliament-Funkadelic, the group owned the charts in the 1970s with hits like “Shining Star,” “After the Love Has Gone,” and “September.” They were a beloved live act, too—they topped the charts with their 1975 concert album, Gratitude, a sentiment that encapsulates the tone Johnson embraces here. Raised in Los Angeles, he worked in local bands before catching White’s attention. Though he recalls White as a taskmaster, he appreciated the discipline of a group with “no scandals, no bickering.” (The sole transgression he shares is taking acid once before a show.) Career-wise, he was at White’s mercy, so when he put EWF on hiatus in the early ’80s, Johnson was adrift, for a time selling stereo systems. Even setbacks are delivered cheerfully here, though the tail end of the book, which focuses on life advice, emphasizes the importance of having a backup plan: He stresses the importance of songwriting and the passive income it delivers, financing his interest in collecting art, scuba diving, and flying. The book’s prose, written with Pullens, is rarely better than workmanlike, and there are a few too many encomiums to the emotional power of EWF’s greatest songs. And readers looking for high drama are reading about the wrong band. But on occasion, a snappy line sneaks through: Describing an arena of fans, Johnson observes, “You ever see 17,000 sequins shimmer at once? …It looked like someone had shaken a giant snow globe full of funk.”
