Off The Record With JBF
An Interview with Soulganic on reinvention, resonance, and sound as a form of light.
For nearly two decades, Soulganic has been a quietly radical presence in the indie soul and funk space — a band as focused on groove as they are on growth. With deep roots in soul, jazz, funk, and rock, they’ve always danced at the edges of genre. But their latest body of work suggests something more expansive is at play.
Their fifth album, Phosphene, released earlier this year, is a meditation on perception — a sonic exploration of what we sense even when we can’t see. Now a trio, Soulganic has distilled their sound to something rawer, deeper, and more intentional. They’re also experimenting boldly through Variations, a Bandcamp-exclusive series where their own catalog is reimagined by outside collaborators — deconstructed, reshaped, and re-lit through entirely new creative lenses.
We caught up with Anthony Rodriguez of Soulganic to talk about their beginnings, their evolution, and what it means to hear light through sound.
Origins & Intentions
Let’s go back — how did Soulganic begin? Was there a defining moment early on when you felt: “This is a band with something to say”?
Right from the beginning! We’re sort of omnivorous music fans and music makers. Our diversity has always informed both our worldviews and our creative expression. So when Ryan and I connected back in the late 90s through musical mutuals, the connection was automatic. When the time came for us to add a drummer to the mix, Cory was the first and last drummer we auditioned. He melded perfectly with what we were trying to say musically. And from that point on, it felt like we were creating something of substance. This distillation of us and our backgrounds and our influences.
Do you remember the first song you created together that made you realize there was real creative chemistry in the room?
Absolutely! I think that would be “Fordham & Walton (On My Way Up)” from our very first album. That one was written along with ML Caldwell, a multi-instrumentalist who was part of the band for a minute in the beginning. That one felt like we were breathing as one. The groove locked, and almost took on a life of its own. It continues to be a fan favorite to this day. And since then, to varying degrees, that’s the feeling we chase and that lets us know if a composition is worth fleshing out or not.
The name “Soulganic” evokes something raw, human, and unfiltered — like music with dirt under its nails and spirit in its bones. What does that name mean to you now, nearly twenty years in?
Definitely all those things, which is what we were trying to convey when we settled on the name way back when. And that’s so dope that you picked up on that. The name still has that flavor, but I think it's matured and evolved over the years. When people hear “Soul” they likely think of the rich African-American musical tradition, which is definitely in our sound’s DNA. Over time, though, I feel like the term as it relates to us, Soulganic, is more about the substance of the human experience. The connectedness that pulses between all of us, regardless of ethnicity, culture, language.
Your sound has always blurred genre lines — soul, funk, rock, jazz — and now it feels more distilled than ever. Has your idea of what Soulganic is changed as the band has evolved into a trio?
I think we’ve found our way again. That distillation you mentioned put us back in touch with our original vision, which is really refreshing. For a bit there we were going through some things and squeezing blood from a stone with the lineup as it was. And that produced some beautiful moments don’t get me wrong. But we had reached a point where there was more we wanted to say, but the circumstances were in the way. And we were in our own way too, because we were trying to utilize the studio as an additional instrument, which can be a divisive process. So once we settled things and decided to move forward as a trio, we had to figure out if what we were making would stand up to that format. Without the additional elements that can sometimes fool you into thinking you’re making something better than it actually is. And we were pleasantly surprised at the result! The idea of Soulganic crystallized around something even more pure and open and honest.
The Pulse of Phosphene
Your fifth album Phosphene is rich with both texture and intention. What was the emotional or philosophical heartbeat of this record?
We spent hours and hours just the three of us together, working on the compositions front to back, no sleight of hand. Just us listening to the universe, pulling things from the air, experimenting, making tons of mistakes, playing the songs again and again until they got to a place where they felt true. And we loved that whole process. So if there was a way that we could portray that feeling, that process, then that’s what we would share with the world. I’d say that’s the heartbeat.
A phosphene is light perceived without light — that flickering vision behind closed eyes. Why did that concept feel right for this moment in your creative journey?
Because there’s so much to life but also to our creative process that’s unseen and unsaid but vital. As the youth say, it’s a vibe. Reflecting on that brought us to the thought of seeing the unseen, which then fed into the lyrical content, and bridging it all to the concept of the physical phenomena of phosphenes.
Now working as a trio, how did that shape the sound and creative process for Phosphene? Did it open up more space or challenge you in new ways?
Both, really. With less elements, everything really has to be on point, intentional. It creates a lot of space, which can be a challenge because it’s like a pause in a conversation. Sometimes because of our own insecurities we want to fill up the emptiness, so we feel less awkward. But there’s nothing wrong with a little bit of silence. So that informed a lot of our arrangements and even the way we played. We decided to pull back even more and let everything breathe. The trio format also opened up more opportunities for us to experiment with things like odd time signatures and genre-blending and the like. That all unlocked a wave of creativity.
The album leans into perception, discovery, and the unseen. Were there any non-musical inspirations — books, conversations, philosophies — that helped guide the thematic direction?
Totally. Conversations around spirituality, mortality, self perception, mental health challenges, especially coming out of the pandemic, whether implicitly or explicitly I think found their way onto the project. A lot of books also contributed to the thought threads and conversations, like Reminiscences of the Cuban Revolution, Why We Can’t Wait, Dilla Time, The Autobiography of Malcolm X, In The Garden of Beasts, Think Again, Without Conscience, The Good Soldiers, Voices From Chernobyl, and the graphic novel The Puerto Rican War.
Which track on the album surprised you the most once it was finished — maybe it landed somewhere emotionally or sonically unexpected?
The title track, “Phosphene” ended up in an awesome place. It started as a simple afrobeat groove, but we kept pushing and stretching and it evolved into this sonic journey we’re really proud of. We and Scott Slagle, our co-producer and engineer, would spend time sharing things we were listening to, and some of those things informed the track’s progress. Everything from Sun Ra to Tigran Hamasyan influenced the direction on that one. And a huge shout out to saxophonist Tony McCullough! He channeled some Ornette Coleman and his playing took the song to a higher plane.
How have audiences responded to the record so far? Has anything in the feedback shifted how you hear it now?
By and large, the response has been fantastic, and we’re so grateful. It’s always interesting to hear which tracks resonate with whom and why. Which people get it, which don’t. I think the sounds on the album are so diverse, that we’ve ended up having a fascinating cross section of people show love for it. Some tracks immediately resonated, like “Family Ties,” “Long Way Home.” For others, like “Waiting” and “Bear That Weight,” the response was less enthusiastic at first, but ironically an audience has developed around them later and has lasted longer.
Variations — Deconstructing the Self
Your Bandcamp-exclusive series Variations is such a bold idea — inviting other artists to reimagine your own songs. Where did the idea come from?
Thank you! We try our best to stand on the principles of peace and love, and community is a byproduct of that. So, along with our reinvention as a trio, a goal of ours is to be not just creators, but a nexus of community and collaboration. Variations came from that idea. Historically, we’ve been fiercely independent and very precious with our creations, but now that we’re older we see that we could scale that back a little bit, let more people in. Variations is a way to do so, while using our platform to expose some really talented creators to new fans. And if their audience ends up exploring Soulganic, that’s cool too. But really just trying to spread the love.
How does it feel to hand over pieces of your own catalog to other producers and artists? Is there a vulnerability in letting go like that — or a thrill in hearing your work transformed?
It definitely made us uncomfortable at first, but you need friction to move forward. Once we got over ourselves, then it was exhilarating! And it was fun to see which bits and pieces the other creators homed in on, how they heard our music, what it meant to them.
Are there any Variations versions that made you hear your own song in a completely new way?
Definitely the ones by Ellie Rizoa and Dynasty The Artist 510. We’re huge fans of both Ellie and Dynasty, and their approaches were just as innovative and creative as they were different from each other and from the source material. But the constant with both of them was how they recontextualized the song’s story into something emotionally resonant. It was amazing to hear Soulganic both as lo-fi hiphop, and as cosmic-electronic-headnod music.
Do you think this type of collaborative deconstruction has changed how you approach new music moving forward?
I think anything we encounter shapes us, whether or not we’re fully aware of it. Knowing that such talented creators dig what we do and connect with it in such a genuine way is a huge boost for us. It makes us want to keep pushing, stay true to our vision, and trust the process.
What’s Next: Chiaroscuro
You’re already working on a follow-up album titled Chiaroscuro, which suggests light and dark in contrast. What’s the early vision for this next chapter?
The early vision is to get deeper into that raw, human, unfiltered, dirt under the fingernails thing you mentioned earlier. Spend some time with darker things.
Is Chiaroscuro a continuation of Phosphene in theme or feel — or are you venturing into totally different emotional terrain?
Chiaroscuro is still interested in exploring what’s under the surface, seeing the unseen. So in that way it’s a continuation. But where Phosphene was about the lightness of love, appreciation, hope, faith, gratitude, commitment, and things like that, Chiaroscuro will be more about darker things. Thematically we’re trying to dig into things that maybe can really make the listener question themselves, the world around them, even their beliefs and their relationship to all those things. So it’s different in that way.
Musically, are you experimenting with any new textures, structures, or sonic philosophies on this one?
Musically, I’d say Chiaroscuro is more sonically cohesive than Phosphene. But we’re continuing down the path of musical exploration, so we’ve brought in some Western classical music elements, some samba and bossa nova elements, some stuff inspired by The Police and Radiohead.
Process, Philosophy & Pulse
What does songwriting look like for Soulganic now? Is it still jam-based, or have you developed a more focused writing rhythm?
It’s a little of both, honestly. We try to take time regularly to just jam and see what comes out of it. But we're all always creating and writing individually too. So sometimes we’ll get together and one of us presents an idea to the group and we’ll work on it, see if anything is there. Lyrically, the process has become more collaborative. I tend to write in more abstract, sometimes obtuse ways, so Ryan and Cory help refine and simplify the concepts so that it’s a little easier for the listener to get what’s going on.
How do each of you bring your personal influences into the mix while staying true to the band’s center? Is there an unspoken creative language among you by now?
It’s like Stevie Wonder said, “music is a world within itself, with a language we all understand.” So, we definitely communicate with each other through the music. We’ll be jamming and it’s a look, or the way something is played that speaks and shepherds us through the process. Of course, sometimes Cory and Ryan tell me exactly what to play so I can do it right! And while there’s a lot of places where our personal influences overlap, we are all also into way different things. Those things express themselves through our musicality, and if fits, then we roll with it. If it doesn’t, we’re pretty honest about it with each other, and we move on.
You’ve been at this a long time — and yet, your work still sounds hungry. What’s kept you inspired through the changes in sound, in structure, in life?
I think it comes from an honest love for the music, and for each other. And the compulsion to create, especially as an emotional outlet or psychological processing tool. There’s still a desire for one of our songs to find as wide an audience as possible. We’re not totally delusional, though. We know that only a fraction of a fraction of the smallest percentage of music makers get to do that while still being totally true to themselves, without compromise. But we have a deeply held conviction that we have something to say of substance, and we’ll keep at it in some way, shape, or form until the day comes when we achieve that goal, or we die trying.
“Soul” is a word you live inside musically — but how do you define it now? As a genre? A philosophy? A feeling?
As a philosophy moreso now than anything else. A concept of human connection that we try to tap into in all its beauty and ugliness, joy and pain. And so we’d like to think that “soul” is that grit, that energy, that rawness, that life. But also it’s a philosophy that evokes empathy, and has an eye to the human experience, and that speaks to something timeless and placeless and genrelessness, if that’s a word.
Off the Record
Imagine your music is a recurring dream. What keeps showing up in it that you can’t explain?
A feeling of deja vu, but also somehow of not knowing what will happen next.
You can host a dream dinner party with three artists (living or dead). Who’s coming and what’s on the turntable while you eat?
David Bowie, Prince, and John Coltrane, because each of them were brilliant and insightful and masters of their craft. We’re listening to The Call Within, by Tigran Hamasyan, because I think it connects to each of them in a way that would spark more talking than eating!
What’s something in your personal playlists that might surprise longtime fans — a guilty pleasure, a curveball influence, a wild card?
Not sure about Cory and Ryan, but for me it would probably be all the 80s pop that I love. Nostalgia is a powerful drug.
When was the last time music brought you to stillness — or to tears? What were you listening to?
“Out Of The Blue” by Katie Pruitt stopped me in my tracks. The production, her delivery, the songwriting, lyrics, everything. I had to immediately play it again a few times in a row. So so beautiful, just amazing work.
And finally — what’s the question no one ever asks you, but you wish they would?
We mostly get asked about Soulganic’s music. But I think our lyrical content is pretty dope. I’d love to have people want to engage some on the lyrical content, and dig deeper on some of those subjects.
In an industry often obsessed with volume and virality, Soulganic remains committed to resonance—the kind that hums in the bones, lingers in the quiet, and grows deeper with each listen. Phosphene wasn’t just an album—it was a transmission from the unseen, a reminder that there’s light even when our eyes are closed. And as they move toward Chiaroscuro, Soulganic isn’t running from the dark—they’re walking straight into it, instruments in hand, asking better questions and making bolder sounds.
This isn’t just soul music. It’s soul philosophy. And Soulganic, as ever, is still finding new ways to feel it out loud.