He was a member of the New York Dolls (the group took their name from the toy repair shop, New York Doll Hospital) which formed in New York City in 1971, and set the stage for the upcoming punk movement that followed. The band worked hard and built a large cult following through their many show s at CBGB’s and Max’s Kansas City in New York.
The Dolls were self-made legends, with their androgynous clothing and makeup and stacked heels, performing rowdy garage band music that was part Rolling Stones, part Iggy & the Stooges with a bit of Bowie and a dash of MC5. They bridged the gap between punk and glam rock. The band broke up in 1977 but reformed in 2004, splitting up again in 2011. The group’s self-titled 1973 debut album remains a landmark in rock music, with Rolling Stone naming it to the 500 Greatest Albums of All Time list. “Glammed-out punkers the New York Dolls snatched riffs from Chuck Berry and Fats Domino and fattened them with loads of attitude and reverb,” Rolling Stone wrote at the time. “Produced by Todd Rundgren, songs like ‘Personality Crisis’ and ‘Bad Girl’ drip with sleaze and style.… It’s hard to imagine the Ramones or the Replacements or a thousand other trash-junky bands without them.”
And certainly there would have never been a KISS.
New York Dolls front man David Johansen, now the only surviving member of the band's original lineup, said on Instagram: "My best friend for so many years, I can still remember the first time I saw him bop into the rehearsal space/bicycle shop with his carpetbag and guitar straight from the plane after having been deported from Amsterdam, I instantly loved him. "I'm gonna miss you old pal. I'll keep the home fires burning. au revoir Syl mon vieux copain."
Sylvain lived in Nashville but will be buried in New York.
If I may, I’d like to wax nostalgic (as I so often do) for a moment. I’ve written it many time before, but it bears repeating. My “coming of age” in rock and roll peaked during my High School years. 1972-76. In those pre-internet days, when our television set only got three channels, most of my rock education came via monthly issues of Creem, Circus, Rock Scene and sometimes Rolling Stone and Crawdaddy magazines. Those periodicals changed my life. Combined with my weekly dates with late-night TV, In Concert followed by The Midnight Special on Friday and Don Kirshner’s Rock Concert on Saturday, they were my only exposure to the great rock bands of Great Britain and yes, New York City.
I can still remember seeing the Dolls for the first time on The Midnight Special. By then I had read all about them in the magazines, so I was ready to hear what they sounded like. I loved it.
The Dolls were one of the handful of bands that helped me to bond with my father. Dad was a career “produce man” at 
the Community Cash grocery store, who also studied to become a Baptist minister. He was always working, so we had very little time together other than our vacations, many of which took us across the country by car to visit his family in San Jose, California. I always left my rock magazines that I was currently reading in the bathroom, and Dad started reading them. Then he started asking me about the bands. I ended up playing him records by Alice Cooper, David Bowie and yes, the New York Dolls. Sure, it was a bit surreal, but he truly appreciated my exposing him to new music. It’s one of my happiest memories of Daddy. So, when I heard of Sylvain’s passing, my thoughts hurled straight back through time to my Dad and I, listening to Too Much Too Soon on the 8-track player in the station wagon, in between tapes by Merle Haggard and Johnny Cash.
the Community Cash grocery store, who also studied to become a Baptist minister. He was always working, so we had very little time together other than our vacations, many of which took us across the country by car to visit his family in San Jose, California. I always left my rock magazines that I was currently reading in the bathroom, and Dad started reading them. Then he started asking me about the bands. I ended up playing him records by Alice Cooper, David Bowie and yes, the New York Dolls. Sure, it was a bit surreal, but he truly appreciated my exposing him to new music. It’s one of my happiest memories of Daddy. So, when I heard of Sylvain’s passing, my thoughts hurled straight back through time to my Dad and I, listening to Too Much Too Soon on the 8-track player in the station wagon, in between tapes by Merle Haggard and Johnny Cash.
The power of music never ceases to amaze me. It can bridge cultural gaps. It can bridge generation gaps. It can be “I Walk the Line” or “Personality Crisis.” No wonder I love it so much. Rest in peace, Syl.
-Michael Buffalo Smith
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