Musician Michael Franti on ‘middle-escence’ – what hits when the kids leave

Each week, Benjamin Law asks public figures to discuss the subjects we’re told to keep private by getting them to roll a die. The numbers they land on are the topics they’re given. This week, he talks to Michael Franti. The American musician, filmmaker and hotelier, 58, has recorded a dozen albums and released multiple hit singles, including Sound of Sunshine and Say Hey (I Love You). His latest album with Spearhead is Big Big Love.

Michael Franti: “We have our adolescence when we’re teenagers, but then we have this middle-escence … Everybody goes through it.”

POLITICS

Some of your music is overtly political – critiques of war, the media and corporate monopolies. Where does the passion come from? My mom [Carol] is a fighter for justice. She taught kindergarten through third grade for 30-plus years. She adopted me, and she and my adoptive father are Finnish-Americans who had three kids of their own, as well as another African-American son. She was a really strong fighter for us, and was so protective of us. Part of it comes from her. Another part of it comes from the fact that I always felt different as a kid, even in my family, as loving as it was. So that always led me to want to speak up in support of difference and people who live differently. I wanted to be a voice for them.

How are you feeling about the state of America right now? It’s painful for me. I feel like the rhetoric out there is super mean-spirited. Yeah, we have policy that’s important to discuss, but we shouldn’t hate people for who they vote for. I believe it’s possible to have differences of opinion about the direction of the world and still be able to love your neighbour and family member.

Have you ever thought about entering the political process yourself? [Laughs] I’m running from office, not for office!

DEATH

You lost your father in 2021. What has the experience of losing him been like? It was my biological father who passed away. We didn’t meet until I was 22 and I really only spent time with him a handful of times. When I met him, it wasn’t like, “Oh, my gosh, my long-lost son!” He used to introduce me as his “friend”, which was very painful for me. So when he passed away, I had a lot of mixed emotions. Music was one of the things that really helped me to get through it. After a couple years of not experiencing live music, I saw this great Indonesian band called the Munchies. They were playing with such passion. At a certain point, I threw my hands in the air, closed my eyes and just started to cry, cry, cry as all these amazing memories – and not-so-amazing memories – came up of my dad. I danced and sweated and cried and shouted for an hour. Afterwards, I felt better.

You recently wrote a song called I Hope I Come Back as a Song. How much of that is a meditation on death? The song’s me thinking about how I really want to see my children when they’re my age or older – and perhaps my grandchildren, too – and yet knowing that it’s just not possible. That scares me. And it makes me think in an existential way. Where does my soul go? What happens to my body? Do we all just become worm food? I’ve been talking recently with a friend about how we have our adolescence when we’re teenagers, but then we have this middle-escence. We’ve had a career, children, raised a family and experienced our kids moving out. Then we’re like, “Well, what do I do now?”

Any answers yet? One thing I’ve learnt is that everybody goes through it. And that there’s so much wisdom in people who’ve lived [longer than you have]. The more we talk about it, the more that we normalise talking about what it means to be in the middle part of our lives, the better. Now I look at the front row of my shows and I see people in their 70s! And they’re down there with all the 20-somethings and younger kids, too. Their age is something to be proud of, not something to be shy about. You were just sitting at home one day, heard that this random guy was coming to town, decided to buy a ticket at age 76, and now you’re in the front row at one of my shows? That’s the kind of energy that I wish for every single person! Make curiosity one of our sacraments. Keep it sacred.

SEX

Did you feel attractive growing up? No.

Why not? Because I was so different. I looked different to the people in the culture I was surrounded by. And I had kind of a pimply face.

That’s most teenagers! [Nods, laughs] But when it’s you, that little pimple is like a pizza on your head! But as I’ve grown, I’ve also realised that it was much deeper than that for me. I was given up for adoption at birth, so I never felt like I was wanted. I didn’t realise that until recently.

Gee. What helped change things for you? I have an amazing partner. Being married shines this bright light on all of the places that are in you. Some of them are the great things; some of them are the things you’re still working on, or maybe haven’t even looked at.

What first attracted you to your wife, Sarah? I was playing a big folk festival. There were 5000 people there and it was raining. She’d bought a little poncho, so I could only see this much of her face in the sixth row. After every show, I always walk off the front of the stage and talk to people, say hello, take pictures and autograph stuff. She was there and I said, “Hey, you wanna come hang out backstage?” She said to me, “If you think I’m going to f--- you, I’m not. If that’s what you want, you might want to talk to somebody else.” [Laughs] And I was like, “I like this girl!”

Michael Franti & Spearhead will play in Brisbane on November 16, Sydney on November 20 and Queenscliff Music Festival on November 22.

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