On August 1, 1971, Madison Square Garden hosted one of music’s most legendary concerts: a benefit for Bangladesh, featuring an incredible lineup of rock royalty, including George Harrison, Ringo Starr, Eric Clapton, and Bob Dylan.
Performing alongside these giants was Billy Preston, a name familiar to pop enthusiasts. He was celebrated for his crucial electric piano contributions to several Beatles tracks, notably ‘Get Back,’ where his part was so vital that the band granted him an unprecedented co-billing. He also played keyboards at The Beatles’ famous rooftop concert and delivered captivating performances with Little Richard and The Rolling Stones. Yet, it was at Madison Square Garden that Preston truly emerged as a solo artist. His electrifying rendition of the gospel-rocker ‘That’s the Way God Planned It’ was an absolute showstopper.
‘That performance launched him into a new dimension,’ explains Paris Barclay, director of the new documentary, ‘That’s The Way God Planned It,’ premiering Friday in New York. ‘He wasn’t merely sharing the stage with legends; he was radiating his own star power, and the audience adored it.’
While that evening cemented Preston’s status as a major artist—potent enough to achieve a No. 2 hit with his funky instrumental ‘Outa-Space’ just four months later—his public prominence sharply contrasted with the deep secrecy surrounding his private life.
Credit: Apple Corps
Tragically, Preston’s life ended in 2006 at 59 due to organ failure, intensified by years of drug and alcohol abuse. Throughout his career, he remained profoundly private, never publicly addressing his identity as a gay man or the childhood abuse he endured. This silence, even from those closest to him, posed a significant challenge for Barclay as he crafted the documentary.
‘A veil of mystery surrounded his life,’ Barclay recounts. ‘The deeper we delved, the more secrets emerged. We worried we wouldn’t be able to capture his true story.’
To unravel these complexities, Barclay needed to earn the trust of Preston’s closest confidantes, many of whom hailed from his gospel roots. Singer Merry Clayton, who knew Preston from childhood performances in Los Angeles Baptist churches, noted, ‘The inner circle all knew what had transpired in his life, but it wasn’t our story to tell.’
From the tender age of three, Preston’s musical journey began at his mother’s church, where she directed the choir. He once told Dick Clark on ‘American Bandstand’ in 1981, ‘I believe my talent is God given. When I touch the piano, I’m giving God the praise.’
Despite the profound comfort Preston found in his faith, the church he belonged to vehemently condemned homosexuality. This created an agonizing paradox, especially since his faith was also the wellspring of his remarkable career. With his mother as his manager, he started performing organ for renowned gospel singers like Mahalia Jackson by age ten, and by the following year, he was on national television, appearing on the ‘Nat King Cole Show.’ He later infused secular music with the intense passion of gospel, collaborating with legends such as Ray Charles and Little Richard, whose band he joined in Hamburg in 1962, where he first crossed paths with The Beatles.
‘When George first encountered him with Little Richard, Billy was merely a child,’ recalled Olivia Harrison, George Harrison’s widow, in a video interview. ‘You could barely see his head over the piano.’ Yet, she added, George recognized his extraordinary gift, stating that ‘whoever Billy played with, he would lift higher.’
This exceptional talent led The Beatles to hire him in 1969 for sessions on their ‘Abbey Road’ and ‘Let It Be’ albums. Harrison explained that the band, having been together constantly for years, was ‘in the doldrums’ at that point. ‘Then a new person comes in, and the sheer joy of his performance filled the room and cleared the air,’ she said. ‘Billy always added something special to the music, which is no small feat with the incredible songs The Beatles wrote.’
Barclay highlighted Preston’s ‘perfect anticipation’ as one of his greatest strengths: ‘He just knew instinctively where a song was headed and precisely what it needed.’
Preston brought this magical touch to countless artists, including The Rolling Stones (appearing on seven of their albums), Sly Stone, and Barbra Streisand, among many others. As a solo artist in the 1970s, he achieved two No. 1 hits with ‘Will It Go Round in Circles’ and ‘Nothing From Nothing,’ both released on Herb Alpert’s A&M label. Alpert, speaking by phone, described him as ‘a human groove machine. The music seemed to flow effortlessly from his body through his keyboard, unfiltered. The sound was pure joy.’
Credit: Robert Altman/Michael Ochs Archives, via Getty Images
His music also radiated profound love, exemplified by ‘You Are So Beautiful,’ a ballad he co-wrote, inspired by his mother, which became a Top 5 hit for Joe Cocker in 1974. These achievements led to his invitation as one of two musical guests on the inaugural episode of ‘Saturday Night Live’ in 1975. Intriguingly, the other guest was Janis Ian, who was also gay and closeted at the time. Ian noted the key difference: she was openly gay to her personal circle, while Preston remained silent about his private life to virtually everyone.
‘I can’t imagine living as Billy did, never truly being able to relax with who you are,’ Ian mused in a phone interview. ‘How could you ever truly feel like yourself?’
Olivia Harrison suggested that Preston’s relentless productivity served as a shield. ‘You always sensed something was happening with Billy,’ she remarked, ‘but he would never reveal that part of himself. I believe that’s why he kept playing—it kept everyone at a distance.’
While Preston had numerous relationships throughout his life, sometimes introducing men on tour as his ‘cousins,’ Barclay found no evidence of any long-term partners. ‘Billy yearned for someone who genuinely loved him, and the fact that he never found that is a true tragedy,’ Barclay shared. ‘It likely contributed to his downward spiral.’
Clayton believes the root of Preston’s profound struggles stemmed from childhood sexual abuse, which, according to multiple film sources, occurred repeatedly by an unknown perpetrator. ‘His entire drug addiction was a direct consequence of that trauma,’ she asserted. ‘When you’re abused, certain patterns emerge in your life, and you don’t understand their origin. You’re just reacting.’
Beginning in the 1990s, Preston faced legal troubles, including jail time for cocaine-related offenses and a 1998 indictment for insurance fraud after intentionally setting his Los Angeles home on fire. Barclay expressed a deep empathy for Preston’s predicament, identifying as a fellow Black gay man who also grew up in the church and experienced childhood abuse within its confines. ‘Those closest to Billy desperately tried to help him,’ Barclay stated, ‘but he couldn’t bring himself to believe it would work.’
The director attributes a significant portion of Preston’s enduring shame to the ‘cacophony of condemnation, proclaiming damnation’ that he heard from his childhood church. ‘The allure of faith is immense,’ Barclay explained, ‘and the promise of redemption often intertwines with devotion, leading one to believe forgiveness is possible even after sin.’
Olivia Harrison expressed her hope that by shedding light on the more somber aspects of Preston’s life, ‘anyone who’s struggling will be encouraged to seek help for themselves.’ Barclay, in turn, sought to balance this narrative by giving equal prominence to Preston’s extraordinary musical genius.
‘I want audiences to recognize this man as a genuine hero,’ Barclay concluded. ‘He was someone who navigated immense pain and societal judgment, yet still managed to perform at the pinnacle of his craft, creating music that will resonate for eternity.’