2024-07-16 00:58:31
<p>To be human is to fail – period. And not just to fail once, but to fail a lot. As the author Samuel Beckett said: “Fail again. Fail better.” This saying means a lot to me and my family – so much so that my daughter got a tattoo of it. Why are we, and so many others, so deeply concerned by failure? And if it’s something we all do so often, why are we so afraid of it – especially those of us here in win-at-all-costs America? In this podcast, I sit down with successful, thoughtful people like Ben Stiller, Bette Midler, Sean Penn and more to talk about failure – or what they labeled “failure,” but what was really an unparalleled opportunity for growth and revelation. I even want to delve into my own hardest moments, when I wrestled with setbacks, shame, and fear. We’ll still fail again. And again. But maybe if we fail better, we’ll feel better -- and maybe if we can all laugh together in failure, that's a start.</p>
Wish your favorite TV show had twice as many episodes? We all want more of our favorites. That's why Discover automatically doubles the cashback earned on your credit card at the end of your first year with Cashback Match. Now that's a real crowd pleaser. See terms at discover.com slash credit card.
You know, talking about how people get trapped by success and that success itself can become kind of a failure. And in their case, in the Lumineers case, you got this huge song, Ho Hey, in 2012.. It's just ubiquitous, an unknown band that just takes over the world for a few months.
And I just began to think about that, you know, in terms of how do you react to that? How do you create after that? And personally, you know, I have some, I think, some, ability to relate, because The X-Files to me, you know, it's one of the biggest television shows of all time. So am I, after that point, after that huge success, am I going to chase that same success? Am I going to try and do another science fiction show?
Am I going to try and do another huge network show? Or am I going to try to create in a different vein? And I think one of the ways to get at a conception of failure, aside from, you know, how hard it is in the beginning to make it in the arts or wherever it is these people are trying to make it, is what do you do once you do succeed? You know, what happens when success starts to feel like a straitjacket or a prison, or a failure? When you become a brand, when your band becomes a brand, when you become a brand.
These are very interesting questions for a creative soul like Jeremiah to kind of consider, I think.
I'm David Duchovny, and this is Fail Better, a show where failure, not success, shapes who we are.
Jeremiah Freights is a founding member and songwriter in the band The Lumineers, alongside his childhood friend Wesley Schultz. And I'm a big fan. He grew up in the suburbs of Jersey, eventually relocating to New York and then to Colorado. Their song Ho Hey became a mega hit and catapulted their careers to new heights in 2012.. Since then, they've continued writing and touring, performing for a really loyal fan base.
This year, Jer has a solo album out called Piano Piano 2.
. Another thing to know is that Jeremiah lost his brother to an overdose back in 2001.. And this has had, as you might expect, a deep impact on his life and on his music, which is what we can talk about. In 2016,, Jeremiah decided to get sober himself after his own struggles with alcohol. And we talk about this too.
He married his wife, Francesca, in 2019, and they have two children together. She's Italian, so they split their time between the U.S. and Italy, where I'm talking with him now.
Nice to meet you, Jeremiah. How are you?
Likewise. Nice to meet you. I'm doing good. How are you doing?
I'm great. Where are you?
In Turin, Italy, where I live.
I was just in Greece for about six weeks. We should have done this, then. We'd be on the same time of day.
I've never been to Greece. How is it over there?
For me, it was the home of all those myths that I read about when I was a kid, so I kept on seeing that everywhere. I just kept on imagining, for better or for worse, this is where our culture came from. I don't know. Maybe I wasn't in Greece. I was in my head the whole time, obviously.
That's cool too, though.
Do you find that, being in Italy, when you relocate or when you go to a new place like that, how does that kind of major brain and soul adjust? Coming from Jersey, which I want to talk about too, because I'm from New York. That kind of dislocation, I think, is a real spur to creativity and to new thought.
Yeah, big time.
Me and my partner, Wes Schultz, the singer of the Lumineers, we started the band almost 20 years ago, back in Jersey. I was still living in Denver at the time. I moved to Italy about four years ago.
A few weeks before I actually left, we were working on our album, 4, called Bright Side.
This song, lyric, I usually help write the music, drums, piano, guitar, some melodies, all that stuff. I don't submit too much lyrics, but this one stuck. It was this lyric that, where we are, I don't know where we are, but it will be okay. It sort of came out of me, I think, in the moment. It was just the subconscious dribble that came out.
I liked the melody. I liked the refrain and the simplicity of it. I think it was post-COVID and I was moving from Denver, Colorado. Even moving from Jersey to Denver felt like a big jump, but from Denver to Italy, a country where I knew I wasn't going to be able to speak the native tongue. I was going to be very far from my parents.
All the things that excited me about the move equally frightened me. I think that your question is perfect. As an artist, too, when you're on your bed playing your guitar in the house, you grew up in, there's a certain staleness to that. When you move to a new zip code, and even a new country, especially where you don't speak the native tongue, the creativity just is through the roof. You see people waiting for a bus, they look different.
You see people in the park, you get a coffee, culturally it's different. They take the espresso and they go on their way. Just the whole nine yards, I think, has been one of the best things for me.
It's interesting, for me, just traveling. Forget about getting up and moving, that would be amazing. Just traveling, your antenna just goes up because everything all of a sudden is new. Everything is landing in a way that's different. I think your mind tries to make sense of it by your own homegrown sense.
Like, oh, that's that guy from Jersey, this is that town in Jersey, whatever. It just sends you into this associative creativity that I think is rich.
Also, to be isolated, you're a big rock star. It's hard for you to get isolated in America. That's always. the tough thing about getting famous, is you stop being able to observe because you're changing the room when you walk into it. People are now observing you.
I think such a smart thing for you to do as a creative person, to get out of that and make yourself isolated in a way, with your own thoughts, with your own associations.
I think the isolation is really good. I think Jeff Tweedy at Wilco said this, that young artists wait to be inspired, and older artists, you need to go out and find it. I relate to that so dearly. I'm only 38, but from 15, 14, when you start to pick up that first drum set and guitar and piano, everything's new and your brain is just approaching the creative room, so to speak, in such a brand new way. That's why a lot of artists tend to break out young.
Maybe they're early to mid-20s. They interpret the world in a different way. Inevitably, you get older and you start to lose that profound insight that maybe you once had. Sometimes it's hard to get back, and sometimes you never get it back. I just love that quote.
I think moving to Italy has sort of been a part of that journey for me, where, it's true, you just can't wake up and be like, I'm so inspired right now. Sometimes that happens, but I do find every year that passes, you need to find new ways to really sit in front of the piano or pick up a guitar and to feel that. Whether that's in isolation, whether that's an anonymous walk along the river, a number of things having moved out of the United States, it's really been, I think, helpful for my creativity.
I myself have started very late in life, writing fiction, but also learning an instrument and making music, and I've found that you talk about the young inspiration, and that's for sure a thing, but an older inspiration, I value that as well, because I think it's coming from a different place, but I also found that when I was doing new things, I got access to that young inspiration. Again, in a way, because my brain was like, this is fucking totally new, I don't know what I'm doing, I'm just a kid, and I'm 55 or whatever when I'm doing it, or 50.. And I think when I look at you, and I look at you, not only doing some solo stuff out of the comfort zone, out of whatever you've been doing since you were young, but also branching out into other instruments, I wonder if you feel that kind of, I don't know if you call it plasticity, but I call it like zen mind, beginner's mind, of just like, wow, this is all so new, and it's making me think a different way, making me think like a young, like a baby.
Yeah, I think that's the key for me and my longevity in this profession. I think that, in addition to Lumineers, I've released, I think technically three solo albums, all instrumental. I'm looking into scoring and composing for films, that's another huge passion project of mine. And yeah, I think that it's the irony of branching out and doing other projects, and I think this has been the fall of some really great bands. I watched this Metallica documentary called Some Kind of Monster.
I love that movie. Dr. Bob, Dr. Bob.
Yeah, kudos to the Metallica band, particularly James Hetfield and Lars, who don't really come across as nice, peachy dudes. They're sort of like, to Jason, I think the bassist, they're like, you're either in Metallica only, or you're out, and he's like, I'm fucking out. I'm just like, this is crazy. How can you walk away from that band, and how can you also put on an ultimatum that really, at the end of the day, really wouldn't have made, I think it would have made him a better Metallica member, and I think that was the nearsightedness and the mistake of maybe James, and probably stemming from fear of insecurity, but I think for me, doing these side things actually makes me stronger to go back to The Lumineers, and then, when you finish The Lumineers project or tour, I'm doing something new, and I think that, you know.
In what way do you think it makes you stronger? Can you elaborate on that?
I've always thought about this. I've always thought, particularly two bands, if you're in Rage Against the Machine or Metallica, you're constantly having to come up with these insanely badass heavy riffs all the time, and there's not really much room for experimentation, per se. There's not really much room for, hey guys, let's get really quiet on this song. It's just constant bombardment of like, it's gotta be heavy, it's gotta be this thing. It's a brand.
Yeah, it's a brand, and I think that that's really difficult to do. Alternatively, maybe even James Taylor, maybe he wanted to write a really hard rock riff and just felt, you know, every great artist feels inevitably trapped.
Well, he did do steamroller blues, didn't he?
That's true, yeah. So that was his rebellious age, and I think that that, like, you know, it's like when you work out and your muscles quite literally rip and break and you get stronger. I think mentally, it's sort of like running these marathons or these triathlons where you're trying new things, and I sometimes think about this with actors. Like with musicians, we get to write our stuff, and we're just in total control. You know, we mix it, and we're like, that's the thing.
I imagine sometimes with actors, you guys have an idea of, this is what I want to do in this take. I want to cry, or I want to kind of cry, I want to scream, and you have, you know, maybe you do two takes, maybe you do 20 takes, and then the director is going to use maybe not the take you wanted, but I sometimes wonder, you have this expectation as an actor or an actress, and you want to hit this sort of, you know,
not objective, but this subjective, like, thing in your mind, and if you don't hit that, you almost might look at it as a failure, but in the end, you might actually see that take and be like, oh, wow, I actually beat the thing that I thought I was. Does that ever happen?
It happens all the time, and first I just want to respond to what you're saying about, you know, with Metallica, and what I would call, like, the failure of success in a way, you know, where you get locked in to not wanting to grow in certain ways or take chances, and that success can become kind of almost like a spiritual failure. You're not saying that those guys are failures in any way. You know, I love their stuff, but I'm just saying. You can get into, like, even when you start thinking about brand, or, you know, how do people perceive me, and I got to, like, tick that box. No, that's kind of a death right there, but when you're talking about acting, not only are you not in control of the take that gets used, but you're not in control of what part of that take you're actually going to see in the movie because there's all these cuts around it, right?
So if we're doing this scene together, you know, the editor is going to choose when to use you and when to use me, and there could be moments that I fucking loved that are on you, you know, because that's just the rhythm of the cut, or the editor saw it a different way. You know, the editor liked when you scratched at your nose a little bit better than what I was saying, you know, my face when I was saying what I was saying, so there's hundreds of movies that could be cut from the movie that you see. There's, like, a ghost that exists. There's 250 ghost movies out there that exist from this movie that I'm showing you, and it's all very much to taste, it's to skill, and it's to the tone that the editor and the director are going for, so the actor really has very little, very little power at that point or very little kind of control, and all you can do is try to be as present and as kind of focused and playful as you can.
I mean, as an actor, I imagine maybe that makes it liberating to an extent, too, that you're like, they might not use anything I like, so fuck it. I just need to do my thing. Yeah.
Well, that's what happens. You kind of have to fall in love with the process, but as an actor, there is something liberating about. I'm just going to do what I do and trust these people that I've thrown in with to take care of me or to take care of the project.
I just heard this quote, and there are so many quotes these days that are misattributed to the wrong people because of the internet.
You're going to do that now.
Yeah, let's just say Steven Spielberg said this, because it sounds very Steven Spielberg. So Steven Spielberg, I read, said, if you made the movie you set out to make, then you failed somewhere along the way.
Mm-hmm.
And I really love that, because, you know, we've made a handful of albums, The Lumineers, and I made a handful of albums myself, and I just love the idea that if you have these ideas of I want to make a happy song or a sad song or a fast song, like, inevitably, somewhere along the way, there will be a crossroads of. don't keep going. This idea sucks. Please stop. Please change.
And Tom Waits talks about that a lot, too, where he says every song, every idea is sort of like a person. Some people, they want to sit on a bench with you and wrap their arm around you. Some of them, you've got to, like, get into a corner and, like, beat them up and, you know, put them in, like, a chokehold and pin them down. And I've seen that so many times with songs that you think, oh, this one's going to be a piece of cake, and it just becomes your Mount Everest, and I think that if you.
don't pivot at some point, then it doesn't make any sense to just blindly keep going ahead. And I really love that quote that was said by Steven Spielberg.
laughs. It is now. It is now said by Steven Spielberg.
This show is sponsored by BetterHelp. Life can be pretty chaotic. One thing that keeps me grounded is therapy. It's been a key part of my routine, helping me manage the roller coaster of daily life. When things get tough, when we feel like we're failing, that's when making time for therapy is the most crucial.
If you've never tried therapy, I highly recommend giving it a go. You never know. Maybe getting to step back once a week with a licensed professional can give you that clarity you've been looking for. BetterHelp is an online platform that makes therapy accessible and convenient. You can do it from the comfort of your own home, on a schedule that works for you.
Just fill out a brief questionnaire to get matched with a licensed therapist and you can switch therapists any time at no additional charge. if you need to. Never skip therapy day with BetterHelp. Visit betterhelp.com slash failbetter today to get 10% off your first month. That's betterhelp, H-E-L-P, dot com.
slash failbetter.
The way we approach learning with our kids is crucial to their well-being. Each kid has a unique learning style. Whether they need a boost in a subject or aren't being challenged enough in another, they deserve a customized educational approach. iXL Learning is an online program covering math, language arts, science, and social studies. iXL is designed to help kids understand and master topics in a fun way and it provides positive feedback to keep them engaged.
I love iXL's approach to learning. They are making a significant difference for kids all over the country. Children using iXL have seen remarkable improvements in their grades, which is a testament to the program's effectiveness. Nationwide research shows that students using iXL score higher on tests, too. I really wish I had something like this when I was growing up, because I was a lousy test taker.
What's cool is that a single subscription covers everything from pre-K to 12th grade. iXL wants to make finding education you can trust as simple as possible. iXL is used in 95 of the top 100 school districts in the U.S. Make an impact on your child's learning. Get iXL now.
And FailBetter listeners can get an exclusive 20% off iXL membership when they sign up today at iXL.
com slash FailBetter. Visit iXL.com slash FailBetter to get the most effective learning program out there at the best price.
If you know me, you know that I am constantly traveling. I was just in Greece for a shoot and I had an amazing time, but when I came back to the U.S. I was already getting ready for my next trip. To be honest, I don't think I even unpacked my bag fully. One thing about traveling that's not so fun, besides having to squeeze everything into your suitcase, is how often it means leaving your home sitting there underutilized while you're gone.
And if you can relate to any of this, then you should definitely think about becoming a host on Airbnb. You've probably heard of Airbnb before. I love them. No matter what kind of trip I'm taking or what kind of stay I'm looking for, Airbnb has the perfect place. And now you can become an Airbnb host yourself.
Instead of leaving your home underused while you're on your next vacation, Airbnb can help you get the most out of your space. It's a fantastic way to earn some extra cash, which, by the way, you can then put towards your next vacation. And don't worry if you think your place might not be perfect. Travelers are often looking for cozy, comfortable places that offer a local touch. Plus, if you're concerned about the time commitment, start small.
List your home for just a few weekends and see how it goes. Your home might be worth more than you think. Find out how much at airbnb.com slash host.
You know, I know that you were, you know, kind of raised in a church musical setting. Right? Your dad was involved with that. So I think that you, of all people, could relate to this. Or I see in you, in your musicianship, and in your changing your instrument, a search for a different mode of expression.
You know, just talk about transcendence through, like spiritual or religious transcendence, through music. Not specifically Christian or Jewish or whatever.
No, it's funny. I've always thought of the Lumineers as my church without religion. As you sort of alluded to, when I was younger, growing up in New Jersey, grew up in Ramsey, New Jersey, North New Jersey, my mom and dad sort of forced me and my brother to go to church. It was about 30 minutes away from our home in Wayne, New Jersey. At this church called St.
Michael's. And for me as a kid, it was just sort of the bane of Sunday. You know, it was like, you know, you had school the next day, and you would go into church and they made you wear these nice clothes. And I think the biggest high me and my brother would get, we would try to get like dirt on the clothes. We played soccer before and, you know, get yelled at.
And there was like free juice after the sermon. But it just sort of all went in one ear, out the other. And I'm not anti-religious by any stretch of the imagination. It just didn't work for me.
Right.
I'm deeply spiritual, but not with any specific name to it or denomination. And I think that for me, music, you know, I still can't get over like goosebumps. We take that for granted. Like, you're listening to some random concoction of frequencies that are making the hairs on your arms. And sometimes even your chest and your sternum, like, you almost have these full-body goosebumps, and it's such an amazing feeling.
But I'm like, what is that? That's so crazy that we're listening to this seemingly arbitrary, like, you know, salad of these notes and these frequencies, and they make us shed tears, and we dive back to our childhood memory. The whole thing is such a trip for me, and I think that it's been.
incredibly spiritual for me, music. And it's given me so much back, and I feel like I've made my offerings back to music. I feel like I've given a lot to music, as much as I can. I've definitely put in my 10,000-plus hours, which probably 8,000 of those hours is failure, but then the rest is, sometimes you strike something cool. For me, it's even deeper that I just love being around patch cables.
I love touching knobs. I love having blisters and calluses on my fingers. I love picking up a guitar and sometimes not even playing it, just holding it and palm-muting it, and, like, watching the TV in a hotel bed. So it's a little bit of a selfish endeavor, too, that it helps me feel better. It helps me feel good.
But I wonder, like, your work ethic, you know, the way you're describing a lot of your music or your practicing, is like, yeah, I like calluses on my hands. I like shredding my muscles. You know, like, there's a lot of, you know, I'm hearing a lot of the athlete come out, and I think it's important, you know, to kind of honor that work ethic, you know, even in an artistic enterprise like making music or acting or anything like that.
Yeah, that's interesting. You connect those two dots. I never did until now, and I think that's actually kind of makes sense. I mean, my mom always said I started touching a soccer ball when I was three, and then I was quite good. in our team, our little town of Jersey in Ramsey.
I was, like, picked first, and I was on the select soccer team where we traveled to Dover, Delaware, and Connecticut, which at the time, it felt like, holy cow, we're going across state lines for the sport, and it felt like a big deal at the time, you know?
Yeah, sure.
And that was my dream. I wanted to be the number one soccer player in the world, which now is insane, thinking that as an American. Right. But, you know, I guess, around age 14, getting that first drum set in the summer from 8th grade into freshman year of high school, and as, like, shin splints, started to increase and discovering marijuana and different genres of music and starting to play with other people's music. And for our small town, there was a lot of creativity.
There was all different types of genres. There was everything from, like, heavy metal to rock, to progressive, to weird time signatures, jazz, really everything under the sun. And a lot of people, you know, a year or two below me in my graduating class and a year or two above me, even years above me, you know, me and my brother, we had about a three- or four-year age difference, so even he played a lot of guitar and my dad sang in the choir, and my mom was a nursery school teacher. She sang every day to the kids playing that acoustic guitar. She was like Raffi playing to the kids.
What songs did she play?
She showed me Wish You Were Here by Pink Floyd.
Really?
So, props, Mom. That was pretty cool, yeah.
That's a cool mom.
Yeah. And she showed me.
Creedence Clearwater Revival, Have You Ever Seen the Rain? You know, that's just a great, great, great strumming song. Right.
Whose idea was it to give you drums? Or was it something you asked for?
The drums, I think, was inside my blood. I have vivid memories of being in math class or English class and, just like, Jared, stop banging on the desk and just having my pen or pencils just banging away. A little bit of hyperactivity back then, I think, and I literally made a drum set. You know, like Folgers coffee cans, those empty Folgers coffee cans. So I had that as like a kick drum and then I had this old school plastic Tupperware that was in our house and I took some chopsticks and I made a little drum set out of those Folgers coffee cans and Tupperware.
Have you ever tried to record using that rig?
I should. I think you should.
bring it back.
Bring it to the band. I think I've lost my mind.
It'll be different. It'll be different.
I got this great idea. Yeah, for me, it's kind of been a full circle realization where, when I started drums, it was very complex beats. It was like Tool and Dream Theater and Planet X. It had to be in 7-8.. It had to be crazy time signature.
It had to be fast and difficult. And then, you know, probably wrote, I don't know, between 50 to 100 songs with Wes before even that first debut Lumineers album came out. Right. Then, by the time that first album comes out, anybody that knows that album, it's just like some simple kicks and some simple... I think, there's like three crash cymbal hits on the whole album.
And I think for me, it was.
. I think for me, it was an ego check at the door, because I was like, man, I could play some pretty sick beats and nobody knows that. And they think of me as just like, howdy y'all, like this tambourine guy. I'm just like... And that was fine.
So your ego got involved at that point?
No, it honestly didn't. I think, for a brief split second once, there was always like, oh, I could, you know, I wish I could show people that. But then that would quickly dissipate into, like, we always talk about, serving the song. You know, you gotta serve the song. And sometimes, you know, not performing on a track is equally as important to performing something on the track.
that's a keep or take.
So I think.
. Well, yeah, it's cool for the ego to get involved and show off, but it can kill the song. You know, it often happens, like in my mind, with demos, you know, like you fall in love with a demo and you're trying to get that feeling that the demo has, which is often because it's not played that well. You're tentative with it, because you don't know it that well. You're really just creating it in the moment.
And there's something about that flirting with the failure, which is, which I see in demos.
It's a weird connection for me where, you know, we call that demo-itis. And it's the worst thing in the world. And, you know, you make a demo like you were talking about. You're in your bedroom. You're not really thinking about what you're doing.
You record a voice, memo of you singing and playing guitar. You're not really thinking about the context or anything else. And you listen back to that and you fall in love with that idea so deeply. The way you played it, the way the sound.
of the guitar. Usually there are mistakes too in there.
There's some mistakes, the way you enunciated a word, the way you didn't enunciate a word. Somehow, the way the mix of the guitar is perfectly with your voice, and now you're recording it with quote-unquote better mics and it sounds twice as shitty. somehow. None of it makes sense. Yeah.
I think it is funny. I think, I'll probably say eight or nine times out of ten, there is something in that demo that everyone in the room is like, yep, demo's great. We don't know what you were doing, man, but it's just, you know, even it's so funny like with a guitar,
the setting and you plug it in with the guitar and then you change location and he's like, do you have a photo? You're like, I got a photo. Volume was seven. Reverb was two. Bass was four.
And it's like, it's identical. It still sounds completely different. You're like, this was the pick. This was the setting of the pickup. I was, like, you know, on the couch with the amp and same mic.
Were your legs crossed? Yeah.
How much coffee did you have? What color shirt were you wearing? And it just doesn't sound right, and it's probably, honestly, one of the most, I'm getting like, tense, just imagining, because it's a recurring thing and it sucks.
Well, as an actor, I have, I have this, I like to rehearse like way before I'm going to shoot. Like, if I could get rehearsals a month before we shoot, that'd be great. But I don't like to rehearse right before we're going to shoot because something might happen that I really like and then I'm going to be chasing that in a conscious way rather than allowing it. It was unconscious until I just did it, and now it's, now. I'm fucked, because now it's conscious and my consciousness is going to ruin everything.
You know, because the instinct did that and now I'm going to try to repeat instinct. That's, that's a ridiculous, that's a notion, that's a way to fail, is like trying to make something seem instinctual. So, I, I totally relate to that.
Yeah. And I've heard that where basketball players shooting free throws or people, golfers when they're putting, as soon as they start to think about what they're doing, I've heard it called, what is it called, the yips, maybe?
Yeah, yeah, the yips, sure.
You, you know, you could do like swish, swish, swish, and then, oh, what are you doing? shooting free throws? What, like, what's the position of your right elbow?
Are you, are you breathing in or breathing out? when you're doing that? What?
Fuck, no! Shut up! I mean, getting to that flow state is sort of the mecca of our craft, and I think that's probably, you know, that's, we, just, we just solved the puzzle. I think that's why the demoitis occurs.
Learning new languages is incredibly important. It keeps our brains active and adaptable, especially as we age. Rosetta Stone can be the door that not only leads you to new languages, but helps you build other new skills. Whether on desktop or through the app, Rosetta Stone offers an immersive experience in the language you want to learn. As a big advocate for language learning, I love how Rosetta Stone makes it accessible for everyone.
I've been trying to brush up on my Spanish, and their bite-sized lessons have meant that I'm able to keep my motivation up, no matter what. For 30 years, Rosetta Stone has been a trusted expert in the field, serving millions of users and offering 25 different languages. They focus on rapid language acquisition without English translations, enabling you to truly speak, listen, and think in your chosen language. Better yet, their True Accent feature provides feedback on your pronunciation. You can also get a lifetime membership that includes all 25 languages, ensuring you're covered for any trips and language needs throughout your life.
Don't put off learning that language. There's no better time than right now to get started. For a very limited time, fail-better listeners can get Rosetta Stone's lifetime membership for 50% off. Visit rosettastone.com slash failbetter. That's 50% off unlimited access to 25 language courses for the rest of your life.
Redeem your 50% off at rosettastone.
com slash failbetter today.
Sometimes, when I invest in something new, it can act as this reset. It fuels my mood and motivation. I feel this new sense of inspiration, itching to learn how to use my new tennis racket or really, a new guitar. A beautiful new guitar that will inspire me to practice more, to write more. It could be anything from cooking equipment to a new self-help book, to a new vehicle.
Something that pushes you to live up to your potential. When we own exceptional things, they inspire us to do exceptional things. The all-new Lexus GX has an exceptional capability that will have you seeing possibilities you never knew existed. Its advanced technology and luxurious interior mean that wherever you go, you'll never go without. The Lexus GX has features available like a dynamic sky panorama glass roof, imagine that, front row massaging seats, 33-inch all-terrain tires, and multi-terrain select.
This luxury vehicle sets a new standard for excellence. Because when we strive for excellence, we stop making excuses. That's when we can feel the difference. Live up to the all-new Lexus GX. Luxury beyond limits.
Experience amazing at your Lexus dealer.
Wish your favorite TV show had twice as many episodes? We know that feeling. And so does Discover. We all want more of our favorites. That's why Discover doubles.
another favorite thing, cashback. That's right. Discover automatically doubles the cashback earned on your credit card at the end of your first year with Cashback Match. Now that's a real crowd-pleaser, minus the nail-biter cliffhanger. Everyone knows how it ends.
Double the cashback. See terms at discover.com slash credit card.
If you don't mind me referencing your brother, let's just touch on that for a moment. Like, you know, the beginnings of your musical kind of interest and career, literally by meeting Wes through him, is that right? Like, they were friends as well?
Yeah, essentially. So, yeah, I would say, if I have one, this is probably my superhero origin story.
In 2001,, my older brother, Joshua, he, died of a heroin drug overdose. He was 19.. I was, I think, 15 at the time. I was just going, I was a freshman in high school, and me and my parents, we knew that he had problems with drugs and we knew that.
he had been having trouble then with heroin and he had gone in and out of rehab. and then, you know, just one of those tragic things, you know, relapsed and took too much, overdosed, passed away.
Brutal, brutal time in my life, obviously for my parents too. It was their firstborn son. He was my older brother, you know, there's a lot of, you know, we talk about Greek mythology, there was a lot of mythology. I put stock into that. He's my older brother, you know, this is now, in my mind, this is now my introduction to the world.
It's like, life sucks, there is no God, you know, the worst thing that you were worried about happened. I remember telling myself for the last six months to a year of his life, oh, you know, we'll like, we'll be drinking a beer about this, like we'll be cheersing a beer like, because I was so ignorant and naive and young about what, truly what he was dealing with. Sure. And so my brother, Josh, he was friends with Wes, and they were, I was friends with Wes's younger brother and we sort of all grew up together, you know, he was like, oh, my older brother's friend, and they had lost touch after probably the last few years of his life. But, you know, when he had passed away,
years later, Wes had actually come back from finishing university and, oddly enough, wanted to start a band with a mutual friend of ours. And, the mutual friend said, not without Jer. And that was sort of how me and Wes then reconnected and we started making music. But, in some way, I've always thought about joy and happiness in terms of mileage. You know, you don't get that much bang for your buck.
You get, you know, I don't know, five miles per gallon when you're in a good mood, happy. I think, in a weird way, grief and sadness, and depression and anxiety. If you know how to use it correctly, you get so much mileage out of that. in a creative sense. You can use that to, when you get to the bottom of yourself emotionally and you feel completely carved out and just really at a low point, I've sometimes thought of almost like a visualization.
You're going down deeper and deeper into the ocean and the sunlight starts to go away and you feel very sad and very depressed. But, when you get to the bottom, truly to the bottom, to the ocean floor, you can use that to push off of and head back towards the light.
You know, I think that it took me years to make sense of my brother's death. and I think, you know, I think, if I was a religious person, for me, personally, I sort of like wince or cringe at the idea like, oh, that's just, that was God's plan, you know, like he took my brother, that was, like, you know, part of God's plan and I, just, for me, I just, I can't, I can't go there, I can't get down with that mentality of something like, sort of categorically bad happening. But, I think that in my own, you know, religious, spiritual way of looking at it, yeah, I guess I hope that his suffering had ended and that he was so uncomfortable in his body. and that type of addiction, specifically, you know, opioids and heroin, it's just, it's so brutal, it's so, it's just, it's wild, it's just, you know, it ravages people.
Of course, I mean, without having access to, you, know, God's plan or whatever, um, me looking at, at you and the story that you write after this makes me see a plan, but it's, it's really you kind of making your own sense of your brother's death and the fact, you know, I think I saw in one interview, you talked about something Stephen King had said where a person dies twice, once when they die and once when his name is spoken or her name is spoken for the last time. and what I see, I mean, is somebody who really starts to embrace the infinite at that point, which is music, you know, is what we've been talking about, like, you become a musician at that point.
and, I mean, maybe not literally, you know, that's the response, but this is what I see looking back. and then, you know, every time, and you do literally start making music with your brother's friend, and, you know, it seems to me that the grief that you're talking about is just encoded into the musical experience. for you, it's just part of it, you're not gonna write. don't worry, be happy, you know, that's not, that's not the plan for you, and that every time you write a song, it's like you're saying your brother's name to me, you know, if one day one knows your history, as you're telling me it, you know.
No, that's beautiful. and it made me think of two different moments relating to the craft of music. is that the first time I wanted to play drums was when I think I was in 6th grade middle school and I saw an 8th grade band cover Aeroplane by the Red Hat Chili Peppers, and it just, it blew my mind watching this drummer, and that made me wanna pick up the drumsticks. but, you know, sadly, what really made me wanna become an artist was my brother had already passed away. and then I think within a year or two of that, um, a friend of my brother, his mom, passed away, a kid named Patrick, his mom passed away of cancer and I remember driving down the main street, I was a passenger, my mom was driving, driving down the main street of our little hometown and hearing that news that she had passed away, it really was like I became possessed for a brief moment in time in that car ride that I wanted to write a song about her, I wanted to write a song about making sense of that.
so it was this sort of interesting two things of like, I wanna pick up the drumsticks cause I'm, I'm just enamored with that, I'm attracted to that. it's like a, there's an attraction here. it's like a, you know, a beam lasering me in on, like a physical, visceral level. but then there was this other element that had almost nothing to do with music and or drums, but everything to do with. I wanna heal that family that lost their mom and I wanna make sense of my own confusion.
probably again, a lot of it comes back to my brother, I'm sure as a Psych 101, you know, would tell us. but I think, yeah, I found that really interesting and I think.
How old were you when you had that car ride?
I mean, it was probably just a year or two later. I was probably 16 or 17 and just having these sort of complex thoughts, and I didn't. it was like. I knew where I wanted to go emotionally, but I had no idea how to play piano yet, and I think even from that I was like man, you like, don't just be a drummer, you're really, you're really gonna limit your options. man like play the piano, learn chords, learn melody, play the guitar, learn production, blah, blah, blah, like, you know, don't just be a drummer, and that was something that I just instilled in my head.
so
I read an article recently that struck me that was talking about grief, and, you know, I've always thought about grief as a well, a loss. really I mean it's dealing with a loss and you've gotta kind of go, you have to go through it. you know, if it's something that you need to grieve, you know, you can't kind of take a shortcut, and it takes time. it takes the time that it takes. but this article was saying how grief is actually a relearning, and it's actually your brain grows during grief, whereas I always experience grief as a diminishment.
right? it's like, oh, I no longer have that thing. but what the brain does is it it learns the world again and again, according to this study, with the loss of the thing like it now needs to see the world as it is, without that thing in it now, and that's actually not a diminishment, it's a growth. you know, and I thought that's that's right. grief is actually a way of learning, and that's what I hear when you're talking about.
you know, your brother and all that, and I think, well, I hope, I hope that's true. you know, I hope that's true.
yeah, no, I like that. I think that certainly gives some greater context to, instead of just oh, I have a, I've had a shitty day, I've had this shitty thing happen to me. I feel terrible, blah, blah, blah. I think you know, and anyone listening giving yourself um, some leeway with those intense, hard feelings, and just go easy on yourself and, yeah, relearn how to do it. because I think, at the end of the day you must confront that it happened and you can't change it.
and there's that stark, objective reality you know, that you must come to terms with. but then how you deal with it emotionally and how, in the worst of it, it doesn't feel like you're dealing with it. it feels like it's dealing with you and just you know, running circles and just messing you up on like a anatomical, neurological level where you, you know, everything is just a blur. but I think, yeah, that's some great context.
I mean, I wonder, I want to get back to something we touched on earlier, which is uh, you know, you speak so kind of eloquently about these states of mind, and yet you say again, I said it earlier you say you don't want to write lyrics, and I wonder where that comes from. is it like I don't want to try to limit my feelings into these words or I?
No, I think, I think that the lyrics.
You're just being humble.
No, I'm not being. it's not a false humble moment, I promise you. I think that it's not something. I've I've spent probably literally decades working on, uh, piano and guitar and melodies, and I think that I've tried to chip away at lyrics. I just think that the the cool thing about my brain, I guess you could say, is that when the lyrics come that I think are good, um, then it's like, oh, that's a cool lyric, because it's, it's, it's simplifying, a complex thought.
but I think sometimes I just will write something and you'll see, like the word hat, and then you're like rhyme it with cat or like, you know, when you start to get in that very intense rhyme scheme and you start to, you know, stray away too far from something cool or something profound. so I don't, you know, I, I, I try to chip away at lyrics every now and then and I'll sometimes some cool stuff comes out of me. but I think for the most part I'm a musical man and but I'm gonna take, I can tell you, you want me to write more lyrics, I'm gonna take a stand at it.
um, speaking of which I I wanna just end on kind of um. you know those two kind of cliches about creation of. you know when you, when you're if and you're sober now. so, like there's, there's a difference between creating when, when you were drinking, and creating now, but also not only that. but the other cliche is that it's very hard to create within a family.
you know like you need to be, I need to be alone, I need to and and and you've. you've not only kept creating within a family, but you went through a pandemic and created a solo album, you know, with a family underfoot. so I wonder if you if you could speak to to those kinds of uh. misconceptions or fears of failure in that sense.
I'll respond backwards. um, for me I'm the type of person when it comes to creation and being around people I can't tell you how many voice memos I have where I'm quite literally standing up, maybe even holding one of my children when they were very young, an infant, and playing the piano, and there's like maybe some crying going on in the background. or I'm in a green room backstage with tons of people, and I'm like the notes are A, C, sharp, D, like the right hand is doing this, hit the E at the last, check it out, and um, I think that that's probably more just stemmed out of necessity because of the you know, being having to be alone when you travel as much as we do. um, and you know too, like being alone is, uh, is a commodity or is a, it can be a rare thing, um, when you're bouncing around a lot, and I think that, um, yeah, with regards to substances and drugs and stuff I have sort of you know now that I'm a parent, I have sort of conflicting thoughts on it, that don't? that are not really harmonious, because I'm terrified of my children using drugs, um, in a bad way, you know, and I think that.
but anyone that says drugs are bad categorically, you know. um, you'd have to take every great album you've ever listened to and throw it in the trash, because I mean The Beatles, Jimi Hendrix, Pink Floyd, and that's where you. I'm not saying that they made those because they were high on drugs, but it's a very complex issue in my head, and also it's a you know, in the world every country has their own ideology about drugs. but I think for me, I was probably at a young age, maybe like 13, 14 I was prescribed something called Adderall, which I'm sure many people know. what that is in America, you know, and it's it's quite literally.
it said like salted amphetamines on the bottle. I'm not kidding, salted? yeah, I don't know why, but it said salted amphetamines and uh.
to be taken with your cocktail? yeah,
a cured meat.
with your almonds?
yeah, and so you know, quite literally taking an amphetamine, and I think that's how it probably helped me learn how to play the piano. um, I commuted when I went to school, so I didn't. I wasn't living away. you know, I was at home with my parents, very uncool, taking my Adderall. I was a sociology major, but I was playing the piano an inordinate amount of time, same with the guitar, same with working on music, getting into production all that stuff, and eventually I think that that caught up with me.
and um, so did drinking. and you know when I was 20, when I was 27, I knew that I had an issue.
and how much of how much of the memory of your brother was coming back to you at that point as well?
Yeah, a lot. I was like. you know, when he died, when I was 14 or 15, I was like, oh, I'll never touch a drug. you know I'll never smoke weed again. and I don't know, six months later, or you know, a year later, it's like, oh, I'll just stick to weed.
you know, just bong hits is my or whatever. you know Adderall prescribed it from a doctor. it's not, it's not a drug. you know alcohol is a social thing. and now I'm a musician, successful musician.
you know it's a. I think a lot of us we love the lifestyle. you know it's a, it's a cool lifestyle to, to summarize it very lazily, it's. you know, you feel like, oh, backstage, you're in the band and hotel and it catches up with you, and I think for me it just stopped stopped working for me. so when I was 27, I probably knew it was time to quit and then probably took me two years to actually come to terms with it.
and I think the Adderall was the hardest thing to give up. I think that I was really worried that it was a crutch of my creativity right.
that's what I, that's what I wanted to get at was like was there a fear at first about well, am I going to be able to write the songs that I want to write without this?
oh, I was. I was terrified. I was terrified to write anything you know without the drugs. you're terrified that you you wanted to make something good or great, you know. and then I think all I know now, and I'm about to celebrate 8 years of sobriety in August, on August 27th, I've.
I've never been more creative in my entire life and David, I promise you when I say that that was the biggest, that was the biggest thing I was so afraid of, I. I went to a few AA meetings. I hated them. it felt like if I disliked religion. as a kid in Wayne, New Jersey, I really disliked the AA program.
I won't go on a tirade about that, but I, it just was not for me, it was not my vibe. and but I had. I met with a sponsor for like one day and he said Jer, when you get sober, you're going to become even more creative. and I remember looking him in the eyes and thinking man, what a crock of shit. this is like a dare officer being like hey son, don't smoke grass like you can.
just you can do it, you know, reach for the sky, you can do it. and I just was so you know, not thinking that that was going to happen and I got sober and then we made our third album, The Lumineers, and then I jumped right into my first piano piano album. I've I've never been more prolific in my. my creativity, my connection with music, my connection with my wife, my connection with my two kids has never been stronger again. this is not me preaching to get out there.
and be sober. it doesn't sound like.
preaching but man.
especially the part where you you hit AA. it doesn't sound like preaching at all.
I think it's hard to sum up in words my, but I still have bad days, I still have. you know, your head still goes to those bad places. but I think that the the leaps between, you know, elation and joy and going down to that, you know salty, the bottom of the Mariana Trench, it's less. and yeah, I've just, I've never been in a better, better spot.
alright well, thank you so much for for for talking with me today. it's been, it's been a real pleasure.
yeah, likewise man, this was great.
thanks for being open and and and willing to talk about some difficult things and have some fun as well. I really appreciate it.
one of the things I'm thinking about most after this discussion with Jeremiah is where we got into grief grief over the loss of his brother to an overdose, and I think about failure in the sense of grief, and that failure feels like a diminishment. failure feels like a loss and in many ways it can be yes on the surface, yes, but maybe the brain grows through failure just like it grows through grief. maybe the brain has to now readjust to a world in which that failure happened. I think grief and failure are very closely related, and that's something that I'm glad we got to in this discussion and something I'd like to continue to talk about more.
we're now in Apple Podcasts. Fail Better is a production of Lemonada Media in coordination with King Baby. it is produced by Keegan Zemma, Aria Bracci, Donnie Matias and Paula Kaplan. our engineer is Brian Castillo. our SVP of weekly is Steve Nelson.
our VP of new content is Rachel Neal, special thanks to Carl Ackerman, Tom Krupinski and Brad Davidson. the show is executive produced by Stephanie Whittles-Wax, Jessica Cordova-Kramer and me, David Duchovny. the music is also by me and my band, the lovely Colin Lee, Pat McCusker, Mitch Stewart Davis, Rowan and Sebastian Modak. you can find us online at Lemonada Media and you can find me at David Duchovny. follow Fail Better wherever you get your podcasts or listen ad-free on Amazon Music with your Prime membership.
I'm Sam Smith and welcome to The Pink House.
I love being in The Pink House with you. join me.
as I talk to my friends and some amazing queer icons about their idea of home, like Elliot Page, Joel Kim Booster and Gloria Estefan.
music was always my escape. it was my happy place. I'm Sam Smith.
The Pink House from Lemonada Media is out. now you can listen ad-free on Amazon Music or wherever you get your podcasts.
get ready to dive into some of the funniest podcasts around with Lemonada Media's comedy lineup. you can enjoy Choice Words with Samantha Bee as she laughs along with guests while they talk about their sometimes questionable life decisions, or listen in as Sarah Silverman answers unpredictable voicemails from her fans on the Sarah Silverman podcast. and don't miss Threedom, where Scott Aukerman, Paul F. Tompkins and Lauren Lapkus hang out, tell stories about each other and see who can make the other two laugh the most and the best part? You can listen to all of these podcasts and more from Lemonada Media on Amazon Music.
v1.0.0.241107-8_os