From Punk Rock to Prayer: Ananda Xenia Shakti Finds Beauty in Surrender on Devotion
By: Melissa Ross
Artists spend their entire careers trying to discover who they are. Ananda Xenia Shakti has spent hers discovering how many different versions of herself she could become without ever losing sight of the person she was all along.
Long before she was creating meditative soundscapes with Love Power the Band, she was known as Xenia Holliday, a member of the pioneering all-female punk outfit The B-Girls. In the late 1970s, when punk was less a musical genre than a declaration of independence, the band carved out its own place in a movement that prized authenticity over perfection. Along the way, Ananda shared stages with The Clash, performed at iconic venues such as CBGB, and contributed background vocals to Blondie’s AutoAmerican album.
Yet, as remarkable as those accomplishments were, they became only the opening chapter of an even more extraordinary story.
Over the decades, Ananda gradually moved away from the urgency and rebellion of punk and toward a life centered on yoga, meditation, spiritual practice, and music as a form of devotion. It’s an evolution that seems dramatic on paper, but listening to her work reveals an entirely different truth. The spirit that once drove her to challenge convention through punk music is the same spirit that now drives her to search for deeper meaning through song.
That search has brought her considerable recognition. Her recordings have topped the UK iTunes charts, while her music videos have earned awards at international film festivals. Yet accolades seem almost secondary to the mission that defines her work today. Rather than treating music as entertainment alone, Ananda approaches it as an opportunity for healing, reflection, and connection.
Her latest single, Devotion, may be the clearest expression of that philosophy to date.
The story behind the song feels almost too symbolic to be true. While attending a silent meditation retreat in the mountains of Andhra Pradesh, India, Ananda found herself awake in the middle of the night, struggling through a bout of physical illness. Unable to meditate in the traditional sense, she began softly chanting the names of Radha and Krishna. Gradually, a melody emerged. What began as discomfort transformed into inspiration.
That experience became the foundation for Devotion, and listeners can hear its sincerity in every note.
The song unfolds with remarkable patience. Rather than rushing toward a dramatic chorus, the arrangement allows the music to breathe. Ambient textures drift gently around mantra-inspired melodies, while subtle rhythmic elements create a sense of movement without ever disturbing the song’s underlying tranquility.
It’s a difficult balance to achieve. Music rooted in spirituality often risks becoming either overly sentimental or so ethereal that it loses its emotional center. Devotion avoids both extremes. The production remains grounded and intimate, creating an atmosphere that feels welcoming rather than inaccessible.
Ananda’s vocal performance is equally effective. She sings with warmth and quiet assurance, resisting the temptation to overstate the emotion that runs through the song. There is no theatrical flourish here, no attempt to impress listeners with technical virtuosity. Instead, she offers something much more compelling: honesty.
That honesty extends to the song’s central theme. Devotion is ultimately about discovering expansion within contraction, light within darkness, and peace within uncertainty. It is about recognizing that growth often arrives in unexpected forms and that transformation rarely happens according to plan.
The accompanying video reinforces those ideas through imagery inspired by nature, contemplation, and sacred symbolism. Rather than competing with the music, the visuals deepen the experience, creating a space where listeners can pause and reflect.
What makes Devotion especially powerful is the way it reflects the arc of Ananda’s life itself. Her journey from punk clubs to meditation retreats might seem improbable, but perhaps it makes perfect sense. Punk has always been about rejecting falsehood and insisting upon authenticity. Spiritual practice asks much the same thing.
The difference is that where punk once demanded that the world change, Devotion asks listeners to begin with themselves.
At a time when so much music is designed to be consumed quickly and forgotten just as fast, Ananda Xenia Shakti has created something slower, more deliberate, and ultimately more enduring. Devotion doesn’t demand attention. It invites presence.
And in a culture that rarely slows down long enough to listen, that may be the most radical gesture of all.
