at 12:52 on April 14, 2010, EDT.
By Nick Patch, THE CANADIAN PRESS


FILE-- Haydain Neale, of Jacksoul, waves after winning for best R&B/Soul Recording at the 2001 Juno Awards in Hamilton, Ont. Sunday March 4, 2001. THE CANADIAN PRESS/Aaron Harris


TORONTO - Jacksoul has won two Juno Awards out of five past nominations, and at the risk of sounding greedy, keyboardist Ron Lopata thinks they deserve one more trophy when the music prizes are handed out this weekend in St. John's, N.L.

Sure, he knows artists aren't supposed to admit that they actually believe their work should receive accolades. But he also knows how hard his late bandmate, Haydain Neale, worked to put out the band's final album, "SOULmate."

He watched as Neale struggled to recover from the near-fatal car accident - a Honda Civic collided with his Vespa scooter - that sent him into a coma. He watched as Neale, just as he began to recover from the accident, was diagnosed with lung cancer. And then he watched Neale walk into the studio day after day to sing, fighting the physical exhaustion that accompanied the disease that took his life in November.

And now, with a nomination for R&B/Soul recording of the year, Lopata wants to see one more thing - the band's final album (released shortly after Neale's death) recognized.

"We've been lucky enough to win a couple times before, this would be a wonderful, bittersweet one," Lopata told The Canadian Press during a chat in the backyard of his Toronto home.

"It's best R&B and SOUL recording," he adds, his voice rising at the "soul" part for emphasis.

"If that's not the best soul recording, I don't know what is."

Yes, while much of "SOULmate" was written prior to the 2007 accident and certainly before Neale's cancer diagnosis, the album's performances are imbued with the sense of urgency that followed in the wake of those personal tragedies.

In fact, Lopata points out that some of the album's lyrics seem chillingly prescient in light of what's happened, no more so than "Lonesome Highway." The album's opening track, it's a buoyant ode to the resiliency that develops from a strong relationship, wherein the Hamilton-born Neale uses highway crashes as a metaphor for life's struggles.

"It's almost like a fortune teller wrote it," Lopata said. "It's very eerie, and in some ways sad, and in some ways it's remarkable, and in some ways it's glorious. So, all of them.

"Every time we heard it in the studio, emotions ran really high. Haydain was always super emotional about that song. It really meant something."

"This is Heaven" had a similar effect. The airy tune, in which Neale repeatedly sings "This is heaven here beneath the stars/ This is heaven if we make it ours" in his expressive, gravel-specked croon, evokes an emotional response from the rest of the band.

"We listen to it now, we think of being in the studio when we were all together, it makes you want to cry," Lopata said.

And yet, considering the grave circumstances that surrounded and threatened to overwhelm "SOULmate," it's amazing how weightlessly effervescent the album sounds.

From the soaring "How We Do" to the reggae-fied ballad "You're Beautiful," the record rarely sounds the slightest bit mournful.

And Lopata says that reflects the mood in the studio.

"No one got paid, it was something we all did for love, and wanted to do altogether," he said.

When the group began work on the record - before Neale's diagnosis - they were "dabbling," Lopata said. They came together in the evenings for some casual sessions and kept things light.

Things soon became more urgent when they Neale became sick.

"I think Haydain was kind of like on a mission to do it (after that)," he said. "It became more routine and more like, let's set this, let's get this done. He really wanted to complete it. You never know when the time is going to happen, but I think he felt: Now. Let's do it."

As their work intensified, Lopata could see how difficult it was for Neale to put his head down and barrel through the task ahead.

"It was much harder for him to focus and concentrate on that stuff, because you're fighting a disease, you're tired, you can't imagine it," he said. "He was so strong. For the entire time you were there, you could tell, when he walked in, it was like: 'Let's get down to business, guys.' It was a serious thing. I still remember that. Whenever I walk into the studio I remember that.

"It's very difficult. You're battling cancer and it takes a toll on your body. ... But he persevered all the time. And he absolutely never wanted to miss a session."

But while they watched Neale, his health deteriorating, work furiously to finish the record, did the band get the sense that this would be the final piece of Neale's creative career?

"Well, I think you feel that, you know?" Lopata replied. "You never know and you hope and you wish for anything to happen - a miracle, an act of God, a change of the wind, a change of the tides. But I think, he felt, given the diagnosis you get, you just go: 'I gotta do this now. I wanna do this. I gotta leave it behind for my family, for my friends, for my fans.'

"It was important to him."

And his family appreciates what he did.

"Wow - that's what I said when I heard about Haydain's Juno nomination, along with some screams and a few tears," Neale's wife, Michaela, said through the band's publicist.

"What an honour to be once again recognized by his peers as a talented musician. That is the power of his human spirit, it will live on through his creativity of music and love."

And whether the band wins or not, Lopata is fiercely proud of Neale's final work - "this is a great record, it's a beautiful record, it's a record we want people to hear," he says.

But listening to it himself? Well, that can be difficult.

"I listen to it for several reasons: I listen to it to remind me of Haydain and bring him into the present, because he's singing, so he's basically talking to us when he does that," Lopata said.

"But it's also, you know, it reminds me I lost a friend. So that's tough. But I think it means a lot. We made this record out of love, altogether. Everyone was there, not because we got paid, not because you had to or because the label was around. Everyone was there because we clung together as a brotherhood and as a family.

"It's wonderful when you can have that feeling. That's really the essence of music and the love that it brings.

"So, yeah. It means a lot."


©The Canadian Press, 2010