For Sugar Man Sixto Rodriguez, the search is over

Sixto Rodriguez is a man of simple means, even if, at 73, he is reaping considerable financial rewards.

Fans thought he had disappeared, but Rodriguez was alive and well, and living in Detroit.

Sixto Rodriguez is a man of simple means, even if, at 73, he is reaping considerable financial rewards after decades in the rock ’n’ roll wilderness.

The American singer, known simply as Rodriguez, has enjoyed a remarkable global renaissance since the release of the Oscar-winning documentary about him, Searching for Sugar Man, in 2012, but he still lives in the same Detroit house that he bought for $US50 in a government auction back in the 1970s, when he thought his career was over.

Having toured the world, including Australia, since that film’s success, Rodriguez has decided to use a little bit of the proceeds to have renovations done on his decidedly unglamorous domicile.

“You might not recognise the place now,” he says in his youthful tone. Rodriguez has been pretty hands-on with the work, too, putting to good use the demolition skills he developed in the building trade when his early music career faltered.

“I did the demolition side,” he says. “It’s coming along real well. I’ll be happy to show it off when it’s done.”

Australia plays a significant part in the Rodriguez story and will contribute a new chapter in November and December when the singer returns for a national tour that begins in Brisbane.

“I’m happy to be coming back,” he says. “It’s a beautiful country.”

The laid-back singer, whose songs flit between blues, jazz, pop and folk, seemed bound for obscurity when he quit the music business after his two unsuccessful albums Cold Fact (1970) and Coming from Reality (1971), but, as it turned out, the world just wasn’t ready then.

The documentary, by Swedish filmmaker Malik Bendjelloul, focuses on Rodriguez’s rediscovery by fans in South Africa in the 1990s. Unbeknown to the singer, his records had been popular there and became more so when they were released on CD in 1991. Fans, some of whom believed Rodriguez had killed himself years earlier, were relieved to discover him alive and well in Detroit. After one of his daughters discovered a South African website dedicated to his music, Rodriguez toured there in 1998 and has been doing so regularly since then to large crowds.

What Searching for Sugar Man doesn’t mention is that long before that South African renaissance, Rodriguez had been a success in Australia. His early albums were released here in the late 1970s and he toured successfully in Australia in 1979 and 1981, the second of these spawning a live album.

“It was Australia that helped me out,” he says, “but South Africa really generated an audience.”

He feels bad that Australian fans didn’t get the credit they deserved in the doco, “but I didn’t write the film. I didn’t have anything to do with the making of the film and I didn’t call it that either. It’s an independent art form.”

Director Bendjelloul, who described his subject as “one of the greatest singers ever” at the 2013 Oscars ceremony, took his own life in 2014 following a battle with depression.

Rodriguez’s songs, such as Sugar Man, Crucify Your Mind and, his first single from 1967, I’ll Slip Away, have struck a chord with Australian audiences and he has found a new generation of fans here from touring in the 21st century, even before the release of Searching for Sugar Man, in 2007 and 2010. He was here most recently in 2014, when he performed with Australian band the Break, featuring members of Midnight Oil and Violent Femmes bassist Brian Ritchie. This time he’s bringing a British ensemble with which he is touring Europe.

A longstanding legal dispute over royalties from his early output on US labels is ongoing. “It’s my version of the Led Zeppelin deal,” he jokes, referring to the recent trial over the origins of that band’s Stairway to Heaven. The Rodriguez case has nothing to do with plagiarism, however, and more to do with who owns the rights to the early recordings.

In the meantime most of Rodriguez’s income derives from touring, so he is grateful to have found new audiences, largely through the doco, in territories he never thought possible.

“I’m 73 now so I’m doing it while I can,” he says. “Because of that Australian connection from the past I can now hang out there. There are a lot of people who would not have known me before the film. Putting it out on video and in a lot of different languages opened up those other markets to me, places like Poland.”

His manner is warm and friendly, perhaps aided by the fact he likes to chill out by “smoking a lot of weed” — he’s an old school rock star, which is also the feel and style of his music. Rodriguez shows draw primarily on material from those two albums and a smattering of covers by artists such as Bob Dylan, Etta James and Jefferson Airplane. He has no plans for a new album, although there are new songs knocking around.

“I’m not promoting any new material,” he says, “but I do play and I do practice and I go into new riffs. I’m a better guitar player than I was before.”

During his long hiatus in the 70s and 80s, Rodriguez worked in construction and on production lines while also nursing political ambitions. Some of his songs reflect his concerns for human rights and he stood for public office in Detroit several times.

Those ambitions are long gone now and he prefers to live a quiet life when he’s not on stage. “Playing shows is fun but I keep a low profile really,” he says. “I get around. It’s OK that way.”

He has no regrets about the lost years of his music career. “I don’t mind the way it went,” he says. “You can’t fix that kind of stuff. You can’t really go back in time and change things. I’m a lucky kid in a lot of ways. I’ve seen a lot of the world over the past few years. I’ve got a couple more good years, I think, including in Australia.”

Rodriguez performs in Brisbane on November 12; Sydney, November 15; Hobart, November 21; Melbourne, November 25; Adelaide, November 29; Perth, December 10.