On August 1, 1971, Madison Square Garden hosted one of music’s most legendary concerts: a benefit for Bangladesh that brought together rock’s biggest stars, including George Harrison, Ringo Starr, Eric Clapton, and Bob Dylan. Right there, performing alongside these icons, was Billy Preston.
Pop fans already knew Preston for his crucial electric piano contributions to several Beatles songs, most notably earning an unprecedented co-billing on ‘Get Back.’ They recognized his keyboard work from the Beatles’ final rooftop concert and his standout sessions with Little Richard and The Rolling Stones. Yet, until that night at the Garden, few had witnessed Preston shine as a solo artist. His electrifying performance of the gospel rocker ‘That’s the Way God Planned It’ was an undeniable showstopper.
“That put him into a whole other stratosphere,” notes Paris Barclay, director of the new documentary ‘That’s The Way God Planned It,’ opening Friday in New York. “He wasn’t just onstage with the greatest stars, he was shining, and the audience ate it up.” This moment cemented Preston’s status as a formidable frontman, potent enough to later secure a No. 2 hit with his funky instrumental ‘Outa-Space’ just four months later. However, this public prominence starkly contrasted with the impenetrable wall he built around his personal life.
Throughout his life, which ended in 2006 at age 59 due to organ failure aggravated by drug and alcohol abuse, Preston never publicly acknowledged his identity as a gay man. He also remained silent about the foundational abuse he experienced as a child. This deep-seated secrecy, even from many of the stars who adored him, presented a significant challenge for Barclay as a documentarian. “There was this mystery about his life,” Barclay admits. “And the more you got into it, the more mysteries unfolded. We were fearful we wouldn’t be able to get it right.”
To unravel these layers, Barclay had to gain the trust of Preston’s closest friends, many of whom hailed from the gospel circles of his youth. “The inner circle all knew what had transpired in his life,” shares singer Merry Clayton, who grew up performing in different Baptist churches alongside Preston in Los Angeles. “But it wasn’t our story to tell.”
From the tender age of three, Preston played piano and sang in the church where his mother directed the choir. “I believe my talent is God given,” Preston stated on ‘American Bandstand’ in 1981. “When I touch the piano, I’m giving God the praise.” Yet, the very faith that provided comfort and fueled his career also condemned homosexuality without equivocation.
With his mother as his manager, Preston began playing organ for gospel luminaries like Mahalia Jackson by age 10. The following year, he appeared on ‘The Nat King Cole Show.’ He later infused secular music with the full fervor of the church, performing with legends such as Ray Charles and Little Richard, who brought him to Hamburg in 1962, where he first encountered The Beatles.
“When George first saw him with Little Richard, Billy was just a kid,” recalls George Harrison’s widow, Olivia Harrison, in a video interview. “You could barely see his head over the piano.” Yet, she remembers George telling her, “whoever Billy played with, he would lift higher.”
This unique ability led The Beatles to hire him in 1969 for the ‘Abbey Road’ and ‘Let It Be’ sessions. Harrison explains, “They’d been together day and night, year after year by that time and they were in the doldrums. Then a new person comes in and the joy of his performance filled the room and cleared the air. Billy always added something to the music, which is not an easy thing to do with those incredible songs The Beatles wrote.”
Barclay highlights Preston’s “perfect anticipation” as a key skill: “He just knew where a song was going and could add what it needed.” Preston masterfully delivered this for a wide array of artists, from The Rolling Stones (appearing on seven of their albums) to Sly Stone, Barbra Streisand, and many more. As a solo artist, he topped the charts twice in the ’70s with ‘Will It Go Round in Circles’ and ‘Nothing From Nothing,’ both released on Herb Alpert’s A&M label. “He was a human groove machine,” Alpert observed. “The music just seemed to come naturally out of his body and into his keyboard with no filter in between. The sound was pure joy.”
His music also radiated profound love, as 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 triumphs led to an invitation to be one of two musical guests on the inaugural episode of ‘Saturday Night Live’ in 1975. Ironically, the other guest was Janis Ian, who was also gay and closeted at the time. Ian points out that she was out to everyone but the public, while Preston rarely spoke of his personal life to anyone.
“I cannot imagine being somebody like Billy and never being able to relax with that fact,” Ian shared. “How could you ever feel like yourself?” Olivia Harrison believes Preston used his relentless productivity as a shield. “You always knew something was going on with Billy,” she said, “but he would never show you that side. I think that’s why he kept playing. It kept everyone away.”
While Preston had numerous short-lived relationships over the years, sometimes introducing male companions as his ‘cousins’ on tour, Barclay found no evidence of long-term partners. “Billy wanted to have someone with him who truly loved him and the fact that he never did is a tragedy,” he laments. “That was probably another part of his spiral down.”
Merry Clayton attributes the core of Preston’s struggles to the sexual abuse he endured as a child, an ordeal that, according to multiple sources in the film, occurred repeatedly at the hands of an unknown perpetrator. “His whole drug situation was because of that,” she asserts. “When you are abused, there are certain things that transpire in your life and you don’t know where they’re coming from. You’re just acting out.”
Beginning in the 1990s, Preston faced legal troubles related to cocaine and, in 1998, was indicted for insurance fraud after setting fire to his Los Angeles home. Barclay, a fellow Black gay man who also experienced childhood abuse within the church, expressed deep empathy for Preston’s predicament. “The people closest to Billy tried to help him,” Barclay states. “But he didn’t feel that could work for him.”
The director attributes a significant portion of Preston’s enduring shame to the “cavalcade of noise saying that you’re doomed” from the church of his youth. “The lure of faith is powerful,” Barclay explains, “and the possibility of redemption is mixed in with devotion, so you could believe you’ll be forgiven even if you sin.” Olivia Harrison hopes that by shedding light on the more sorrowful aspects of Preston’s life, it will encourage “anyone who’s in trouble to reach out for help themselves.” Barclay, meanwhile, aimed to ensure Preston’s extraordinary musical brilliance is equally celebrated.
“I want people to see this man as a true hero,” he declared. “He was someone who managed to get through so much pain and condemnation to perform at the highest level and make music that will last forever.”