It’s a Small World

Over the past month, I found myself far from the familiar grounds of Melody Ranch, exploring the lush landscapes of Costa Rica and the vibrant energy of Southern California. I love buzzing around and visiting the different corners of my life. These past six weeks I’ve been in Costa Rica—my home away from home—and crawling (honestly, crawling) down SoCal freeways, weaving from San Diego to Los Angeles and back again.

I travel a lot, as you’ve probably noticed by now. Travel is the musician’s prerogative—and maybe my favorite part of being a big project creator. Costa Rica isn’t just where my second home and the monkeys reside—it’s also home base for Horacio Paris, one of the drummers I work with most closely these days, and Josué González, a guest pianist on a few tracks I’m currently mixing for the new album.

This time around, I got to reconnect with my dear friend Meg Baier, an influential songwriter and one of my longtime people. We hadn’t shared a Costa Rican adventure in two decades. While we caught up, she got a glimpse into my remote-collab world, watching over my shoulder as I mixed with Guilherme Medeiros in Brazil, took meetings with Athxna in Nashville, and played guitar by the pool. She kept calling me a pollinator, someone who carries connection from place to place. And honestly, it stuck. That’s exactly what it feels like sometimes.

After Meg flew out, I spent most of my time with my best friend (my guitar), swinging in the hammock, and dangling my feet in the pool. I like to use time away from the studio to get my fingers back in shape. I’ve played guitar since I was four, and even though it’s no longer my primary instrument, I still think in guitar. Ideas come to me in motion—on planes, in cabs, pacing a sidewalk. So, I make time to work my hands, improvise, and write with the instrument that shaped how I hear the world.

Believe it or not, I write a lot away from instruments too. On this trip, I wrote a new tune on my phone during the flight to San Diego, and another in the ER (long story), sitting in a hallway next to my dad with a notepad and a pen. Music finds its way out, no matter the setting.

When I landed in San Diego, I arrived just in time to join my friend Steph Johnson and my choir family at Voices of Our City Choir. Right before I flew stateside, I got the news that we’d lost Juan Campbell, a founding member of the choir. Juan was a creator, a presence, someone who—like many artists—spent time living on the streets. He was only 61. You might’ve seen him with Voices on America’s Got Talent, when Terry Crews slammed the Golden Buzzer. But what you don’t see in those moments is how homelessness shaves decades off a person’s life. Since I started working with the choir, we’ve lost nearly a dozen members. It’s something I didn’t understand when I first showed up to volunteer.

It felt like the universe dropped me right where I needed to be. I got to mourn Juan in song, back in rehearsal with people I love, supporting Steph and the team through grief. Even with the heaviness, there was joy in being there—seeing members of the choir still thriving, still showing up to practice, perform, create. Some are even stepping into new creative roles at La Jolla Playhouse.

I also caught up with some incredible humans doing advocacy work in San Diego—many of whom are now trying to hold the line as social programs disappear around them. They’re overwhelmed. The last eight months have made their work infinitely harder. But still, there’s this resilience. No one I talked to dwelled on the hardship. They talked about restoration. About joy. About finding beauty where you can. And connection. There’s always connection. From the second I walk through the door to the moment I get back in my car, someone’s grabbing me for a hug or a quick catch-up.

To close out my Southern California trip, I went to see Heart at the San Diego Sports Arena. Let me just say: those gals still have it. At 72 and 75, the Wilson sisters had the entire crowd on their feet, dancing and singing every word. We had great floor seats, and—perfect small world moment—I looked to my right and saw Olivia Tosic sitting next to me. Olivia runs The Rockin’ Rag, a San Diego-based video “magazine” focused on rock ‘n’ roll artists. She threw her arms around me and said, “How is it that I get to see Heart and sit next to one of my favorite singers?!” Classic San Diego magic.

Sidenote: Todd Rundgren opened for Heart. And I’ll admit, the age gap showed a little. I didn’t quite “get it.” But I went to the massive pool of talent on my socials and asked them to help me out. I’ve been listening to Todd all week and… I’m getting into it! How can you not like a guy who raised Liv Tyler as his own? That’s right—Steven Tyler might be her biological father, but Todd was the one who drove her to school and showed up at talent shows. That’s another story for another day, but I’ll report back on my Rundgren rabbit hole soon. In the meantime, feel free to message me your shock and awe—or your must-listens—at FrancescaValle@yahoo.com. Who knows, maybe I’ll include your picks in my next article.

HOMEWORK

🎧 Listen to “Unlovable” by Meg Baier
I’ve been a devoted fan of Meg Baier for two decades, and her sixth solo album might be her most arresting work yet. These songs are deceptively catchy—full of wit and classic songwriting craft—but there’s something raw and unflinching beneath the surface. It’s about mental health. About creative struggle. I had to take breaks while listening—not because it faltered, but because it hit so deep. This isn’t an album you throw on in the background. It asks you to sit with it. To feel it. To face the cost of genius. It’s gutting. It’s gorgeous. It’s worth every second.

🎤 Keep an ear out for Steph Johnson’s upcoming album, Cartwheel Galaxy, with her new band Happy Baby
After nearly a decade of pouring herself into Voices of Our City Choir, Steph is finally making space for her own music again. She’s working with a young, up-and-coming producer, Cameron Keezer, and exploring new vibes—stuff that leans more into pop, downtempo, and dreamy textures. I’ve heard a few of the tracks, and I’m loving this new direction. It’s still Steph, just softer around the edges. Trancelike. Hypnotic. I can’t wait for you to hear it.

📺 Rewatch the Golden Buzzer performance by Voices of Our City Choir
It’s easy to find online—just Google it. Voices also has an album of original songs in post-production, with a documentary set to release in 2026. If you’re in San Diego, you can catch one of their open rehearsals every Monday at 10:30am at St. Paul’s Cathedral on 6th Ave.

💿 Dust off some Heart
Start with Desire Walks On—a hugely underrated album and a personal favorite that heavily influenced my own writing. Or go with the better-known Dog & Butterfly, which features “Straight On”—Heart’s third single from that album and, according to my mom, the first song I ever requested at age three. She swears Heart was the first band I loved on my own. Apparently, it showed early.

Shameless Self-Promotion
By the time you’re reading this, I’ll have just released a new single and video: Not Like You. It dropped August 24, in honor of National LGBTQ+ Youth Day—and yes, that’s Meg Baier on harmonies.

The song came out quiet and steady, almost like a hymn. But there’s ache in it too. It’s for the kids growing up queer, or different, or just feeling outside of things. One in four high schoolers identifies as LGBTQ+ now. They’re four times more likely to attempt suicide. I wanted to make something that says: I see you. You matter.

The video is simple but deliberate. Visibility can be a kind of shelter.  All proceeds go to The Trevor Project. Every parent should listen hard to this one.