Soapbox soulman

By REBECCA BARRY

He's a peace-loving father of two who enjoys body-surfing and basketball.

He also gets hate mail and death threats and says he's watched by the American military.

"No great deed goes without its criticism," reasons Spearhead singer-songwriter Michael Franti, on the line from Woodstock, America's rock'n'roll mecca.

"It's time now for the human and the natural spiritual interests of this planet to take priority over the corporate, military and materialistic interests of this planet. That is what people are crying out for everywhere."

He might as well be paraphrasing the evocative if somewhat evangelistic themes in Spearhead's new fourth album, Everyone Deserves Music.

But while Franti's lyrics berate everything from war to poverty and inequality, they don't override his love of funk, soul and hip-hop.

One minute he's Rage Against the Machine's Zach de la Rocha: "Bush war one and Bush war two, they got a war for me, they got a war for you" - next he's Marvin Gaye: "Everyone deserves music, sweet music."

Those who turn up to his shows know he's not all talk. Some of them hang out with Franti before his gigs, playing hacky or shooting hoops with him in the carpark. Others stick around afterwards to thank him with a hug. At 2m, he is referred to as a "gentle giant" and revered for his god-like stage presence.

No wonder the military take him seriously.

"We had a situation where two intelligence officers came to one of our band member's mother's house because she has a daughter in the military," he says.

"They wanted to know what our connection - as people who are very outspoken against the war or organising anti-war rallies - was to her daughter. And they had photos of the band and photos of all the people in our management office and a lot of other information: banking records, flight records, all kinds of stuff. I see it as a time when voices of dissent are really beginning to be watched."

Franti watches, too.

The first thing he does when he gets off the plane in new territory is to read the newspaper.

"In order to make great art, you have to find some truth," he explains.

"It can be a spiritual truth, a sexual truth, an emotional truth or a political truth. But really, my message is compassion and what I do with my music is my service to the planet and my community. My goal is not to try and create a perfect world but to bring people ease of heart in a difficult world."

Franti's own world has been difficult lately - his father died and he suffered physical exhaustion as a result of an intense tour to promote the album. He is happy, however, that it has led him back to New Zealand (he was last here in December), a place where his fans are particularly loyal. He returned the affection by getting a Maori tattoo on his shoulder.

"All the people I know in New Zealand live their lives with their heart out in front and everything else follows," he says. "I think that's why our music has resonated there. People really appreciate music from the heart and expressing concerns about real things."

He cites the debate over genetic modification, then launches into a spiel against the Bush Administration, "which is setting a dangerous precedent doing whatever it wants, whenever it wants".

But Franti conforms to that mantra himself. He set up his own record label, Boo Boo Wax, as a result of a rocky relationship with his original signatories, Capitol Records.

"We'd say, 'We want to go do this show at the prison' and they'd go, 'Well, we need you to go meet this radio programmer today', and we would say, 'Well, we're going to go do this show', and they'd say, 'Okay, it's your career' and they'd kind of throw their hands up in the air. I work pretty tirelessly to get the word out about what we do, so I never felt ashamed if we had a difference of opinion with the label."

His headstrong nature comes from growing up the underdog - adopted at birth to white parents in the predominantly black community of Oakland, he began his career as a social activist and poet, soon growing aware that his thoughtful protests didn't have the same impact as those coming out of the more combative hip-hop movement. So he started playing bass in activist group the Beatnigs, later formed the Disposable Heroes of Hiphoprisy, and in 1994 founded Spearhead and started his own movement. Spearhead's debut release, despite confronting the controversial and somewhat taboo themes of race, poverty and Aids, sold 200,000 copies.

"There are times when I definitely feel weighed down by the world, but music is a thing that helps me to express what's inside me and helps me to move on to the next phase," he says. "With my father's passing away, it's been music that's helped me to just cry. There are some songs that make me just well up and cry.

"That's when gifts have come, spiritual gifts of understanding and of deeper maturity."

Performance

* Who: Michael Franti and Spearhead (with Katchafire and Verse Two)

* Where: St James Theatre

* When: Monday