Frank's Corner #9: In Conversation With Noah Floersch.
A-list cosigns, erratic alter egos, and embracing early roots in the present.
Virality seems to find Noah Floersch like a heat-seeking missile, and it’s truly the talent to blame. Catchy tunes aplenty and a knack for promoting those earworm clips over and over and over again on socials, the Nashville-based pop star finds himself looking up at what seems to be a steep, staggering elevation to stardom.
Following the booming success of his single “Ghost of Chicago,” Floersch stands at the verge of releasing yet another full-length project—one with singles like “Somebody Nobody Gets Over” and its violently addictive buildup that have already received the seal of approval from the likes of Gracie Abrams, SZA, Orla Gartland, Greta Isaac, and Brittany Spencer, and most importantly, 25Frank…myself…duh.
The album, as you might expect, is a totally brilliant, danceable, yet solemn ode to the messy, at times lost, often drunk alternate identity of Francis Aquarius, whom Floersch created as the main character and muse for this entire project.
In a crazy turn of events, I had the completely insane opportunity to hop on a call with Noah to chat about this record, its storylines, experiencing virality, and all the craziness that has led up to release week. He’s such a gem, and this was such a rad conversation. I hope you enjoy.
25F: With the announcement of this record out in the world, does it feel more like an exciting leap of faith or something terrifying?
Noah: It’s something I think about with every rollout. There’s anxiety with any release, even singles. I hope people like it, and I hope I still like it five years from now. There’s always the question: will people like it? Will I like it in the future? What matters is if it feels good now. For this project, all the music on Francis Aquarius has excited me for a long time. Sometimes you hear a song 30 times a day and need a break, but I come back to this album every few weeks, and it still feels great. That’s a good sign. When releasing music, trusting its quality and the work put into it is essential. For musicians, feeling good about what you’ve made is important—at the end of the day, that’s all you’ve got.
You’re promoting all over TikTok and Instagram. With that, what does it feel like when SZA comments on your post and says you’re “cooking”?
It was surreal. I woke up to that notification, which Instagram pushed to the top as a notable comment. I was just checking my socials, and suddenly, SZA had commented. She’s active online and often champions music she loves, but I never expected my post to reach her. What made it special was that she typed out some lyrics in her comment, showing she really listened. It was a morale boost—a treat—and it was totally unexpected.
My roommate and I first discovered you with “Ghost of Chicago” in 2023 when it went absolutely freaking wild online. What does virality like that do to your mindset? And what about experiencing that kind of virality again two years later?
I hope it happens again and again. I want to beat “Ghost of Chicago” if I can. I’m glad it’s a song I still love, even after two years and countless performances. That kind of virality is rare—it wasn’t just the song, but also listeners’ interactions. A trumpet player jumped on the track, and people made their own versions. That was unreal. At the time, I was working with a video company, but I was mostly managing myself. My producer, also my roommate, helped a lot.
Virality feels great, but too much can be overwhelming. It’s like ice cream. It’s the best thing ever, and suddenly you’re sick to your stomach. You end up reading every comment and second-guessing yourself. At first, it’s exciting, but after the moment passes, there’s a comedown. “Ghost of Chicago” was the first single from my album Noah in fall 2023—no song after hit as hard, which was tough as someone competitive and driven. There are different ways to surpass yourself—artistically or commercially—but I always want to improve across the board. Frustration sets in after a big moment, wanting to recreate it.
This year, I haven’t had a viral moment as big, but I know it’s possible. High peaks come with low valleys, but the knowledge that you’ve done it once offers comfort. If I hadn’t experienced that moment five or six years into my career, it’d be much harder to keep going. Experiencing peak and valley moments does change your psyche, and it’s hard to explain to those outside the business. That’s why community is so important, especially now when virality can define a song’s success. Friendship and support from fellow artists are crucial, as they help you feel understood and not alone.
The title of the new record, “Francis Aquarius,” is also an alternate character of yours. Who is he to you, and who do you hope he is to listeners?
He’s semi-autobiographical. It’s about magnifying parts of myself I’m not proud of, especially in the period after Noah was released, when I started touring and felt insecure. Sometimes those valleys come from chasing heights after a viral moment and doubting you can reach them again. There are messy ways to cope—drinking too much, getting into situations you shouldn’t. Those patterns are personified in the Francis Aquarius character.
He’s not a bad person—just someone not dealing well with things. Writing the record, I explored that space deeply. We have 12 songs, but wrote 50 or 60 trying to capture that feeling. After writing so much about being a loser or feeling bad, it starts to manifest in real life. Assigning those traits to a character helped me separate myself and not feel awful all the time.
Some listeners will think Francis is an asshole, and that’s intentional. “Wild Thing” is an example; on the surface, people might blame the woman, but the song stems from insecurity. I want people to have fun with the music, but also reflect. If a mid-20s guy hears the record and feels down, I hope he realizes he’s not alone and can improve. The album ends with moments of self-reckoning—a glimmer of hope after struggles. I want people to find comfort and enjoyment.
Is writing an album about drinking and messiness easier because, like when drinking, you feel like you can do whatever and lay it all out there? Does it let you be freer without overthinking?
Often, good pop songs are easily and enjoyably written, and that was true for much of this record. The process felt fresh and was fun—writing and producing were genuinely a blast. Some songs took longer to work out, but overall, there’s a link between how a song’s creation feels and how it’s received. Tedious songs can sound that way, and that’s interesting, but pop music should feel effortless. I hope that comes through in these tracks.
Did you feel like you needed to take precautionary steps to clarify that Francis Aquarius is not Noah Floersch?
Not explicitly. I do understand some may listen and think Noah Floersch is a bad guy, but none of the songs are self-incriminating. If listeners interpret it that way, I’m fine with it. I’m not worried that the album will damage my image. For those who are interested, it’s cool to know how I think of the project. Mystery is important—I like leaving room for audience interpretation. Balancing honesty in interviews with not revealing everything is tricky, but necessary.
Did you ever struggle writing about a rough character like Francis, even though a handful of the songs are quite danceable and don’t come off as solemn or regrettable?
It’s dangerous at times. The main challenge is authenticity—making sure the songs reflect real thoughts and feelings, not just things I’d say out loud. Writing with others brings fun ideas, but some wouldn’t fit my project. Drawing the right boundaries keeps the artistic vision and messaging clear.
Where does Noah Floersch Dance? Where does Francis Aquarius dance?
In Nashville, there aren’t many places to just dance freely. I’m not a great dancer, but I love it. When the vibe is right—DJ, crowd, maybe a few drinks—I go for it. Festivals like Lollapalooza and big weddings with recognizable songs are my places to dance. I love the idea of clubbing, but I usually don’t last long.
For Francis Aquarius, I imagine him going out clubbing, but needing to be in the right headspace for it. It’s not sustainable for me, but some people (like Francis) thrive in that scene.
What’s your drink of choice—and what would Francis Aquarius drink?
Any beer works for me. The same goes for Francis Aquarius, too. Cheap, light beer—I grew up on Busch Light in Nebraska. Outdoor drinking games make sense for that. If it’s a cocktail, I’d choose an old-fashioned. I keep it simple, and so would Francis. That’s where I think we align. It’s about catching a buzz.
Growing up in Nebraska in a religious household, does making music ever feel religious, perhaps in a secular way, even when you aren’t writing about religion explicitly?
The album’s original concept was about balancing those ideas. My middle name is Francis, after St. Francis of Assisi, a Catholic saint; Aquarius is my sign. The concept shifted, and Francis Aquarius became an alter ego. Writing about relationships or explicit topics definitely reminds me of my mom will hear it, but it’s important to acknowledge where I’m from without letting it interfere with my artistic vision. I live in Nashville now, but there’s a certain responsibility to maintain authenticity from my roots—communicating as I would, ya know.
How has moving to Nashville fueled you musically?
It’s been completely transformative. The talent here is unmatched—instrumentalists, artists, producers, and engineers all contribute to an inspiring community. Writer’s rounds, DJ sets, and Broadway’s live bands push you to level up. Being here humbled my perspective. The music scene in Omaha and Lincoln is alive, too, but moving was about leaving a small pond for an ocean. I’m so ridiculously grateful to be part of this scene.
Are you a Bonnaroo goer?
Not yet, and I’m glad I skipped this year since it got cancelled. Maybe next year.
You should go next year. I went last year—it’s hot but absolutely ridiculous.
This year was actually my first major festival. Lollapalooza, an unreal experience. It was a full circle moment to see Djo play in front of a version of the bean and me being in Chicago after all that happened with “Ghost of Chicago.” It was so random and funny and totally serendipitous. I loved that set; he’s so talented.
Who are some artists you’re currently listening to, or inspired by, for this album or while making it?
No one inspired Francis Aquarius directly other than his own character, but lately I’ve been into Djo’s new album, Geese, Cameron Winters’ solo work, and Peter McPoland—especially “Last Looks.” My girlfriend actually just played me a Father John Misty song from “Mahash Mashana” that blew me away, especially imagining it at a festival. Fleetwood Mac’s “Tusk,” especially the version with the USC marching band, is also deeply inspiring. Those moments make you think about putting on a big festival set. Maybe I’ll do it one day, who knows.
What’s next for you after this album? Is it all promo, or will you find time for leisure before it all gets crazy?
It’s a mix. Album promo will be heavy for the next couple of months, including rehearsals and release shows in Chicago and Nashville. After that, I’ll be writing more—hoping to release new music later this year or early next, collaborating with friends on their projects. Right now, writing isn’t consistent since we’re in release mode, but grouping songs and planning what’s next is my favorite part. After the album, I’ll keep making music. That’s the aim.
Listen to Francis Aquarius everywhere on October 3rd. Follow Noah on Instagram and TikTok.