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Neal Francis makes the kind of music that feels both timeless and intensely personal. Weaving in his own hard-won perspective following addiction and upheaval, the singer, songwriter, and pianist draws on the grooves of New Orleans funk and ’70s soul in a solo career that’s earned him a growing national audience and a much-anticipated recent album release, Return to Zero. But only after finding his footing through sobriety and self-reflection was he able to experience what he considers a strong connection to self, spirit, and sound.
In a recent conversation with Yoga Journal, Francis opens up about mindfulness in the creative process, the spiritual roots of soul music, and how ritual shows up in his life as a performer. You can also catch Neal Francis live on Saturday, May 31, at this year’s Outside Festival in Denver. Tickets are still available.
Yoga Journal: You’ve talked about how iconic soul and funk artists like Sly Stone and Dr. John influenced you. What was it about their music and spirit that pulled you in?
Neal Francis: I first fell in love with Dr. John’s music because I liked his piano playing and flamboyant style of dress. I was probably six when I remember hearing him for the first time. My parents bought me a couple of his albums, and I tried to emulate his playing style.
As I matured, I became aware of Allen Toussaint, the artist/producer behind several of Dr. John’s records, and the band The Meters, the session musicians on those recordings. My first record contains a lot of influence from all three of those artists. I fell in love with Sly in middle school. A friend of mine got their greatest hits on CD [Sly and the Family Stone], and I thought it was wonderful. His music is rock, funk, soul, gospel, and pop mixed into one sound. I also really loved his organ playing.
YJ: Blues and soul music are so full of feeling. They demand a presence that almost feels meditative. Do you think mindfulness plays a role in how you connect with your music when you’re playing?
NF: I think mindfulness is part of my performance now. But for most of my life as a performer, I had no awareness or practice to connect with music spiritually or mindfully. There were moments of divine inspiration, but they were fleeting. Sometimes there’s a moment of fear or distraction on stage, and I take a split second to feel my hands on the keys, and drop back into my body. If I think too hard about what I’m playing, my performance seems to suffer. Meditation is an important part of my daily practice today, and I try to keep returning to it, especially when I’m agitated.
YJ: You’ve been open about your journey with sobriety, especially around the time you made Changes. I thought it was so interesting when you once wrote in a blog post, “Drinking held my music in a half-cocked slingshot.” That’s powerful, and kind of runs counter to the common myth that substances fuel creativity. Can you talk about how sobriety changed your creative process?
NF: I think they did fuel my creativity for a while, perhaps in terms of generating ideas, but quickly, they worked against me. Fundamentally, I don’t like to be uncomfortable. So whenever I encountered resistance, it was easier for me to use alcohol or drugs to escape that feeling rather than push through or wait out the discomfort. That led to a lot of unrequited dreams and unfinished projects.
I’ve slowly become better at being present and working through problems, artistic and otherwise. My creative process is always changing. It is never linear.
YJ: You were already playing with Chicago blues legends as a teenager, and people often call you a prodigy. In yoga, we talk about “dharma”— finding the work you were born to do. What would you say to artists still trying to find their path?
NF: I would say to a younger musician–and admonish myself–that they should pursue what interests them, to the furthest limit, and divorce themselves from the outcome. I spent a lot of time wondering how a certain piece of work would be received or using my music as a means to an end in achieving material goals. More and more, I can say gratefully that all I care about is the process of creation and my interest in seeing what is possible.
YJ: You once described yourself as a “spiritual agnostic.” Is that still how you would describe your relationship to spirituality today? Has it changed at all over the years?
NF: I have become interested in Buddhism in the last few years, and want to delve deeper. The tenets of Buddhism link elegantly with recovery. I read a lot of philosophical and spiritual writing. I’ll probably be forever searching. My concept of spirituality is pretty nebulous, and I think that’s a good thing, because I can keep the door open to learning from different faith traditions.
YJ: Many musicians and performers have little pre-show rituals to help them get centered. Do you have any routines or practices that help you get in the right headspace before you play?
NF: After soundcheck, I usually commit about an hour to my spiritual practice and make sure to get out of the venue. It helps clear my head, and gives the guys and me a chance to have space from each other. I may do a formal meditation, but usually that’s just in the morning. Lately, we’ve been meditating as a band for ten minutes before the show. I always do a vocal warmup and ideally have some funny conversation or dance a little backstage to get my spirits up.
YJ: What does your morning meditation consist of? Are you doing any specific styles or breathwork practices?
NF: I typically do a guided 20-minute meditation based on the Vipassana meditation practice. I also do longer meditations in the van or on airplanes, and lately have been listening to meditations and dharma talks on the Plum Village app.
YJ: You’ll be playing at Outside Festival in Denver this May. I’m curious—how does the energy of a big outdoor festival compare to playing smaller, more intimate shows? Does it change the way you approach the performance at all?
NF: The crowd can play a big role in my performance. The energy I receive from them can invigorate me and lead me to some wild places. We just played a big festival in Australia, and the crowds there were electric. That was part of the reason we played such great shows there. Conversely, if I start getting in my head that the crowd isn’t meeting my expectations somehow, that’s my cue to go back to the breath and connect with my body. I can’t control the environment. When I’m more present and engaged, the audience invariably responds positively, which encourages me to push even further.
YJ: Do you prefer one setting over the other—big outdoor stages or smaller club gigs—or do they each have their kind of magic?
NF: All venues have pros and cons, but I try to let go and have a blast wherever I am performing.
YJ: Last one—what’s lighting you up creatively these days? Anything new you’re excited about?
NF: I’m writing and drawing a lot, and I have lots of old demos that I want to finish up. I have been feeling a huge wave of creativity, and I’m excited to get back to recording and new video projects later this year. Our recent trip to Japan was very spiritual and filled my cup creatively. I’m excited to see how that manifests in future work as well.
