Soulive has been around for over 25 years and I first got into their music in the early ’00s with their second and third albums, ‘Turn It Out’ (2000) and ‘Doin’ Something’ (2001.) They represent(ed) the best of a new generation of organ trios, with brothers Alan (drums) and Neal (keys) Evans joined by Eric Krasno on guitar. Soulive developed their funky style in the wake of arguably the least funky decade (1990s) of the last 50 years. The band actually led to my discovery of Lettuce, the leading funk band of the 2000s and a cousin to Soulive, with Krasno and Neal as members at the time.
Soulive had a series of stellar albums in the early part of this century, and I had the opportunity to see them live in Philly with Lettuce as well as at Bear Creek Music Festival in Florida during their Rubber Soulive album tour. Just when they appeared to be cresting, the band went on hiatus, with each member moving on to different music-related activities. Neal and Kras actually left Lettuce as well.
Now the band has released ‘Flowers’ their first album in fifteen years, and as this article’s title indicates, it’s really a special delivery. The album features a deep-pocket funk sound. On Flowers, Soulive often sounds more like a quartet with a thumping bass line. thanks to keyboardist Neal Evans, who utilizes a specialized “Mu-Tron bass” via his Hammond B-3 or clavinet setup.
Each song is meticulously crafted, and the band is able to shift styles and genres fluidly and deftly, crafting each one as veteran tunemasters. The mix includes (by my count: cinematic (XL, Pikes Place), funk/acid jazz (Baby Jupiter, Basher, Butter Rock), psychodelia (Flowers At Your Feet), blues/rock (3 Kings, Vines), soul jazz (East Side, Window Weather) although classifications are fuzzy and can shift.
In the years since Soulive’s last album, there has been a resurgence in both the funk and organ trio genres in both the live and recorded music scenes. It remains one of my favorites to listen to, and Soulive’s XL is such an excellent offering that fans will surely embrace. Here’s hoping that the band will tour to support this album—they’ve already announced two dates in Ardmore, PA—and continue to dazzle us with their talents long into the future.
Check out my track-by-track coverage and be sure to stream and buy the album wherever you are able. Additionally, album liner notes are shown in the shaded boxes for each track.
For more than twenty-five years, the Woodstock, New York–formed trio Soulive have carried the flame of the Hammond-organ format for a new generation. Guitarist Eric Krasno, organist Neal Evans, and drummer-producer Alan Evans built their language on feel and economy — three voices locked in, sweat and telepathy with no wasted motion. Too lean for a jam band, too funky for straight-ahead jazz, Soulive blurred every border until categories fell away. The band has just released Flowers via Flóki Studios, their first full-length album in fifteen years.
Across hundreds of shows and a kinetic run of albums, Soulive became a bridge between worlds — jazz clubs, rock stages, hip-hop festivals, late-night DJ sets. Their first recordings — the self-pressed Get Down! (1999), the independent breakthrough Turn It Out (2000), and subsequent Blue Note releases Doin’ Something (2001), Next (2002), and Breakout (2005) — carried the pulse of 1960s soul-jazz into a new century without looking backward. Krasno’s radiant, melodic guitar, Neal’s frothy Hammond tone, and Alan’s unhurried pocket defined the band’s signature sound.
“We were never chasing anyone else’s thing,” Alan reflects today. “It was always just the three of us seeing where the songs took us.”
Soulive never broke up; they just went quiet. Krasno turned to songwriting and production. Neal to arranging and texture. Alan to engineering and sound. “There’s so much more that goes into a recording than the gear,” Alan says. “It’s about the environment — your place in space and time at that moment.”
That reconnection took form on Flowers, Soulive’s first full-length album in more than a decade. Tracked at Flóki Studios — a century-old former grocery store on Iceland’s north coast — the sessions pulled the trio out of routine and back into focus. Alan had worked there before with MonoNeon and Oteil Burbridge, drawn to the light and the solitude.
They arrived with fragments and grooves but wrote most of Flowers on the spot. “We’re not super precious about it, man,” Alan says. “If it felt good, we moved on.” They played less and listened more, letting decades of chemistry do the work. “The three of us just fall into place,” he says. “It’s like having a conversation that never ended.”
Track-By-Track
XL sounds like a spaghetti western from the first lick on Krasno’s hollow-bodied guitar and the trill on Neal’s keys. It’s adjacent to The Budos Band sound, albeit without the horns. It has a nice echo loop between the drums/guitar and organ for a bit and then segues into an organ-driven melody. The guitar trill with the percussion rolls along right to the end.
“XL” opens the record — “the bridge between Cinematics and Flowers,” Alan says — connecting their earlier EPs to this new chapter.
Baby Jupiter has a late 90s acid-jazz feel, leaning heavily on Neal to establish the melody. Neal playing the low-end Mu-tron bass notes establishes a strong foundation for a brief guitar bridge. The tune is fast-paced and upbeat, an overall solid track.
“Baby Jupiter,” the lead single, revives a long-shelved New Orleans groove from a Pretty Lights session. “It probably feels the most like vintage Soulive,” Alan says. “Like 1999 or 2000 Soulive — the younger versions of ourselves, played by guys who actually know what they’re doing now.”
Flowers At Your Feet is probably the most ‘fun’ track on the album, diving quickly into psychedelic synth mode with bent note vocals and 60s-era flower child lyrics. The ‘bo, bo, bum’ chant clearly echoes Sly Stone. Neal’s organ and synth are the standouts here, dominating the vibe throughout. Kras comes on strong at the end to add some Woodstock-like vintage licks.
“Flowers at Your Feet,” featuring Grammy-winning soul auteur Van Hunt, began as an Afrobeat sketch, veered toward Sly Stone, and found its center in Hunt’s airy, psychedelic vocal. “I texted Van and said, ‘Whatever you do will be awesome,’” Alan recalls. “And he nailed it.”
3 Kings is instantly recognizable as a blues King tribute from the drum + Mu-tron + guitar opening bars. Naturally, this is a Kras-heavy tune as him expertly crafts the journey from back in the day to the present. The Evans brothers, lay down the rhythm as tight as possible and Kras takes us out to the end.
Written the day B.B. King died, “Three Kings” became a slow-burn tribute to B.B., Freddie, and Albert — a eulogy to blues lineage filtered through Soulive’s elastic groove.
East Side evokes a Memphis soul ballad to me and specifically sounds like it could be the basis for an Al Green tune. It’s silky smooth, and I could envision some buttery lyrics on top of it, but in this case Kras’ guitar does all the singing it needs. Neal is playing electric piano as well as organ here, adding to the old-school feel.
“East Side,” by Neal Evans, was the only fully written tune they brought to Iceland — first tested during a Blue Note NYC run years before Flowers took shape.
Basher has a mysterious funk feel with Neal’s Mu-Tron playing a straight, deceptive bass line throughout. Kras’ lyrical guitar and Neal’s airy synth complement each other perfectly Equally balanced are the bass line and Alan’s always pocket-perfect drums.
The record’s back half stretches further still. “Basher,” named for Don Cheadle’s Ocean’s Eleven character, carries the spy-funk pulse of the Cinematics EPs.
Butter Rock has the heavy organ sound of New Orleans, specifically The Meters as indicated in the album liner notes. The tune shucks and jives with the best of them. It’s so cool to have the full crew carry the bulk of the melody.
“Butter Rock” nods to the Meters — “an inside Flóki thing,” Alan laughs — born from the band’s New Orleans ties and the studio’s in-jokes about rhythm and grease.
Vines is another bluesy tune with Kras winding notes up and down. It also hints of The Beatles’ “I Want You,” which is not totally surprising since Soulive did the “Rubber Soulive” album years ago. Kras drives for the most part, with Neal taking the bridge before they both go hard in the second half, veering into psychedelic tones as well.
“Vines,” the first track they recorded, grew from a riff Krasno played while Alan set levels. The title came from a friend outside Electric Lady Studios saying he was “getting some vines” (slang for clothes) — a small, funny exchange that stuck, a wink to key Soulive influence Jimi Hendrix’s energy and legacy.
Pikes Place starts with a harpsichord-like sound, which portrays a cinematic, eerie mood. Indeed, that is the description from the notes, but I’d add a bit of a psychological thriller feel. The keys clearly lead this one, and towards the end the synth section changes to a more spacey atmosphere up to the halting end.
“Pike’s Place,” named for studio owner and executive producer Chad Pike, carries a spaghetti-western lilt — and this one, Alan says, runs deep. “Neal and I — especially Neal — are way into spaghetti-Western soundtracks. Neal goes way deep; he knows all these composers you’ve never even heard of. That tune has that kind of vibe. And it’s named for Chad Pike, who owns the studio. He’s a super-cool dude, a huge music head, and an amazing supporter of the arts — so it was just a thank-you to him.”
Window Weather is a lush soundscape starting with some gorgeous Kras solo lines before Neal comes in with fuzzed-up synth and electric piano simultaneously. Alan’s backbeat provides the gateway to the ethereal second half. It’s a fantastic genre-crossing tune with cinematic, psychedelic and acid jazz all mixed in and a beautiful way to end the album.
And the closer, “Window Weather,” began with Krasno. “He always does this — ‘Yeah, I got a little something,’” Alan says. “He starts playing and we’re like, ‘Yo, that’s beautiful.’ Neal and Kras built it out. It’s got that Radiohead–Thom Yorke thing — which is weird for us, but whatever. Music is music.”