Modern Drummer -- June, 1998 -- Pages: 61-66, 68-69
By: Matt Peiken
Photos by: Lance Mercer
Submitted by: Ian Hadfield
When Jack Irons was twenty-five, he didn't think he'd make it to thirty-five. But here he is, thirty-five years old, with wife, two young children, and a renewed lease on his musical career as the drummer for Pearl Jam. "I've got a grip on my sanity now," he says. "And that makes everything else possible."
Irons isn't exaggerating to illustrate a point. He's suffered from anxiety attacks so severe that, over the past decade, he was forced to leave two emerging bands and enter a psychiatric hospital for bipolar manic depression. He often found the business of music overwhelming, and at times the world has seemed to close so tightly around him that only prescription drugs or complete mental retreats could temporarily curb his descent into a private abyss.
Along the way, Jack never really stopped making music. He was the Red Hot Chili Pepper's first drummer of record, making what many consider the band's best best album, The Uplift Mofo Party Plan , before leaving in 1988 to heal his mind. Soon after, though, he toured with Joe Strummer and Red Kross, then formed Eleven with two friends in Los Angeles. The band made three records and appeared on the brink of mainstream acceptance when Irons' personal demons again preyed on his mind. He moved his family to a quiet, rural town, geographically and psychologically distancing himself from Eleven, and had prepared to leave the music business behind altogether when fate pulled him back in.
In 1990, Seattle musicians Stone Gossard and Jeff Ament had asked Irons if he was interested in forming a new band. He wasn't. Instead, Jack hooked them up with Eddie Vedder, a singer he became friends with in San Diego. Considering Pearl Jam's success in retrospect, Irons never lamented passing on the opportunity to join the band. As it is, he merely watched from a distance as Pearl Jam went through a succession of drummer. And, in 1994, Irons was too steeped in depression to pay much notice when Pearl Jam fired its latest drummer, Dave Abbruzzese.
"I was just starting to put my life back together at that point," Jack remembers, "and I wasn't ready for anything big. I certainly couldn't have gone on and lived with what Pearl Jam had to endure early on. When I joined, they wanted to still be out there, but they wanted to get off that super-fast pace, which really suited me then--and now."
Today, Irons credits a spiritual guru for making his life livable and, ultimately, enjoyable. For the tangible results, you don't have to go any further than his music. The frantic funk of the Chili Peppers and heavy-fisted beats of Eleven have given way to a more relaxed and soulfully arresting approach to rhythm with Pearl Jam. On Yield , the band's new disc, Irons' drums at time evoke a musical quality, as if the drummer, himself, is singing for the first time.
In a conversation on the eve of Yield's release, Jack talked about his personal struggles, his tenuous salvation, and, in ways he's just beginning to understand, how music has served as the connecting thread.
MP: With everything on in the Pearl Jam world at the time you joined -- the revolving door of drummers, the fight with Ticketmaster -- did you have any second thoughts about joining?
JI: I didn't exactly know what I was stepping into because I had no preparation for it. But I liked the idea of making records and taking some time off, and then touring and taking some time off. I could raise a family and be there for them without trying to work that around everything else. It seemed like a good lifestyle for me. It gave the opportunity to assume the responsibilities as a musician and a family man at the same time.
MP: You could have stayed with Eleven. The band wasn't big in the Pearl Jam sense, but you were touring, selling records.
JI: We stayed together for three records, and we toured alot. But after doing that tour with Soundgarden, my wife and I had decided to move out of Los Angeles. We were done with LA because we decided we just couldn't raise a family there. We needed more space, but Eleven was LA-based. That was in July, and I didn't hear until August that Pearl Jam was gonna be looking for a another drummer.
Meanwhile, I spent a couple months wondering just how it was going to work with Eleven. At that point, I was getting a little bit tired of the touring, and I just didn't know I should continue pushing and persisting in this business. It had become important for me to live in a slower-paced environment, because I had been living with an anxiety disorder.
MP: What would you have done for money outside of music?
JI: I didn't have anything planned. I was very idealistic. But people survive. That's what I told myself at the time, and I didn't know the changes that were about to occur. All I was really thinking about was preserving my sanity.
MP: Was is really on the edge at that point?
JI: Yes. It had been since I was twenty-five. At the time, I was diagnosed with bipolar manic depression disorder. I took medication daily as a form of treatment, only recently being able to stop. The disorder included intense periods of anxiety. Those periods influenced how I adapted to living in most circumstances. I would try to avoid any situation that might trigger this condition. The music business seemed to be one of those situations. I thought if I freed myself from hustle of the business, I might live in a little more peace. So we moved away. My moving away affected my role in Eleven. We were happy as friends and musicians, but my future with Eleven was becoming unstable. I didn't know how much juice I had to persist. It felt like I had just enough to raise my family.
MP: So when you talk about your future, you're not just talking about a career, you're talking about life.
JI: Absolutely. It wasn't a situation of going on tour and having these problems and then going home and being fine. Though when I was home, everything was more subdued. I was in familiar surroundings and there wasn't as much action, as much stimuli, to stress me out.
MP: When did you feel the manic depressive experiences were behind you?
JI: Gradually over time, I figured out activities and strategies to help me get through. I used alternative means, such as acupuncture and holistic medicine in conjunction with the medications.
MP: When did you make contact again with Pearl Jam?
JI: It was strange, because I'd just moved out of LA, just gotten my family settled, and I was prepared to let go of my music career. So it was just about two months later, and I had no idea this coming. But when it did, I realized I wanted to see if I could succeed in this business on that level. These guys were friends, I liked the music, they knew my playing. But don't get me wrong, there were auditions. There were four or five other guys they were talking to. Each guy in the band had someone they were interested in. To some degree, I was the favorite, but there was no guarantee.
I was friends with Eddie, and we both knew we wanted to play together, but I had to fit in with everybody. So when I first joined, they were like, "Let's do this first tour together and see how it goes over three or four months." And we spent about that much time just feeling each other out and getting through things. But they welcomed me from the start and treated me as a bandmember throughout. Like any relationship, I sort of just dived in. From my perspective, it couldn't have been just any band. It had to work musically. But I also figured if I didn't have to struggle in the music business anymore, if I could just play and have some sense of balance, that would be the thing I needed.
MP: Did they tell you why they didn't want Dave Abbruzzese in the band anymore?
JI: It just wasn't working out. It was just personal stuff, and it wasn't something I got involved in. Whatever was going on, it was going on for whatever number of years they were together. They got through whatever they had to go through before I got involved.
MP: How was the transition for you from Eleven to Pearl Jam?
JI: It was hard work. I mean, it was just like a relationship. Everyone wanted to do it, but we all had places we were coming from and it was work on everybody's part just to adjust to new styles, a new feel, a new person. For me, just coming up to Seattle and moving the whole family was difficult. And on a musical level, things were different. Songs were faster, faster in a different way than I was used to. As much as I've listened to rick and have been influenced by it, I've always played more quirky, funky stuff. It was a whole different feel, and the music came from a different place from where I had come from.
I think I got used to playing very hard and aggressive, jst laying into the drums and pounding out these slower grooves. In Eleven, everything was sort of low and dirty. The hi-hats were always open to some degree and I'd hit them really hard. I'd put my whole body into that, which really represented my personality and emotional state at that time. That bashing wasn't just something I thought would be a good idea. It sounds kind of dramatic, but it represented my whole struggle. That's what it really was for me, a form of expression and a release at the same time. I could just get it out on the drums. That goes back to the whole thing about twenty-five and not being sure if I'd make it to thirty-five.
Then, suddenly, I had to totally change gears with Pearl Jam. Their music is very different and comes from a completely different headspace. Everything was a lot faster, the music moved along more, and it needed finesse. And because the shows were longer, I needed to pace myself and conserve my energy. Also, if I'd played as hard as I did with Eleven, with music that's twice as fast, I wouldn't have lasted four or five songs.
When you play a club, you're not so reliant on monitors, and even subtle differences in how hard you hit make a big difference in the sound. But when you play bigger rooms, it doesn't matter in terms of what the audience can hear. I took me a while to adapt my playing, and I started having some problems with my body.
When we did the tour with Neil Young, I blew out something in my elbow. Then I had this thing going in my right wrist -- it wasn't carpal tunnel, it was more like tendinitis. And that just stemmed from previous approach of wanting to pound it out. So I started compensating by using my arm differently. I can't even tell you exactly what I did, but I guess it's just like limping. You don't intentionally do it, you just do it because that's how your body compensates. Nothing was too threatening in a permanent sense, but it just was a nagging problem that happened over time.
MP: Did the other guys in the band talk to about not playing so hard?
JI: Oh yeah, but just in a joking-around way, and I think it's something that we all went through, in some way. We learned that instead of just playing the music, there's a way to let the music play you. Rocking isn't just pounding it out. It's a real feel of people playing together, and you get to that point where the song moves you through it. It not just your performance.
If you look at great players like Jack DeJohnette, Stewart Copeland, and Keith Moon, they were able to just let it flow. Those are the recordings that end up being classics. That was a big realization for me as a drummer and a musician. Before that, from my point of view, I was only seeing what I was doing.
MP: How did joining Pearl Jam affect your mental state?
JI: On my first tour with Pearl Jam, we went to Australia, Southeast Asia, Japan, and New Zealand. Before we left, I think I was running on this excitement and adrenaline of going to these great places and playing for a lot of people. We did fine musically and I think I played well, but the internal problems I'd experienced before, this inner life, still existed. It didn't go away; it doesn't go away with success. And when we came back from the tour, I was at my old point again, just mentally collapsed and exhausted.
What it taught me was that these problems didn't have anything to do with my career or any of the other things I thought were causing them. But there was another big difference that did have an effect on me. On one hand, it was great to be in a position where I didn't have to struggle anymore. But we weren't rehearsing every day. We weren't playing music nearly as much as I was to with Eleven, and I missed that. I needed that kind of therapy.
MP: How did you regain that balance that you seemed to need?
JI: Don't get me wrong. Even though we weren't playing a lot, from my point of view, we've played plenty in the first two years together. We didn't do a ton of stuff, but we were on the road for two or three months out of the year and I was gone for a while making a record. Considering that I'm raising a family, that's a lot more time away from home. For me, it was the right amount of time.
When things started rolling again this past year, I was the one who needed some time before I hit the road again. I was the only ones going through the changes and problems, and I was the one who had to work some things out, coming to some conclusions with myself. They were really supportive and patient with me, but we also wanted to make a record. So we just decided to do some recording without putting any pressure or time limit on it.
MP: You mentioned to me that you also started doing your own drum music.
JI: Right. I'd set up a home demo kit in my basement in Seattle and I would come up with these tribal rhythms, just stuff I'd developed from playing over the years. Then I'd take my four-track to a rehearsal studio somewhere and just start recording drums. I'd play very spontaneously, and if something sounded like an organized idea, I'd record it. Then I'd go back to my basement studio and add percussion on top of it.
MP: You were doing that sort of thing when you were in Eleven, weren't you?
JI: I'm sure I'd started then, but I never actually had the time to see where it could go. And actually, I'd recorded one piece of music about a month before I heard Pearl Jam was looking for a drummer. I did it at Flea's house, and we've used that tape to open up almost every Pearl Jam show. But being in Pearl Jam has opened up more time and opportunity for me to explore that side of me. I'd actually like to put a lot of these rhythms together and make a record of them.
MP: Have any of those rhythms wound up on a Pearl Jam record or inspired a part you've played on any given song?
JI: To turn my drum music into a song is pretty challenging, but the guys have been really supportive of me doing it, and we've worked some things into a few songs. On No Code, "Who You Are" and the beginning of "In My Tree" are drum-based, and there are other little parts here and there that I would call "drum music" -- not just playing a regular beat.
But in our music, there usually isn't room for that kind of stuff. And when there is, I have to be a lot more delicate with it. Like on "Given To Fly," I play a beat that's based around the toms, but it's pretty soft. I'm not sure I would have been comfortable playing that way a few years ago.
MP: That really comes through in your drum sounds. There are distinct tonal personalities, like the airy kick drum on "Faithful" and the looseness of your snare on "No Way." And your toms also sound like they were tuned to specific pitches.
JI: The kick drum you're talking about was an old, stainless - steel, 24" Ludwig. It belongs to my friend Nickey Alexander, who used to be the drummer of the Weirdos. He and I are in this together. He's been my tech since I joined Pearl Jam. We had a lot of different drums, but we used that bass drum a lot. That open, bigger sound at the beginning of the song is the room sound. We used some DWs, some modern-day Slingerlands, the stainless - steel Ludwigs. And you'd be surprised what duct tape can do. There was duct tape all over No Code.
But ultimately, for Yield, there was nothing fancy about the drum sounds. It was just using the right mic', finding the right position for it in to the room, and getting the right takes. The engineer and producer had more to do with that than I did. I was only particular to point of it sounding right. If it sounded right and felt right to me and everyone else, that's all we could ask for.
I think that was also an inherent condition of taking out time with the record. We didn't put any time limit on it. It was like, "When this record's done, we call it a record." We took out time to come up with ideal sounds and feel for every song, so that each had it's own identity. We would cut a track and go back and listen to it and openly discuss it. If one of us thought something could be done differently or better, we'd just try it again. That was a privilege, and doing a record like that felt like a luxury, rather than having to rush to get something done.
MP: Did that time also go into developing and playing the right drum part for a given song?
JI: There was nothing totally worked out for this session. It goes back to the song playing me. It seems really simple. But my perspective in the past was pounding the groove and trying to nail the right fill for a specific part. I was definitely a drummer who thought about that kind of stuff. But what seemed to work for everything this time, overall, was not thinking or paying to much attention to the details.
I wasn't worrying about how hard I was hitting. I was just relaxing and listening to the song. I've learned over the years that if you just relax and let the music happen, it sounds better. That never dawned on me until a year or so ago.
MP: How did the processes differ between making No Code and Yield?
JI: With No Code, we made time while we were on tour to stop into studios in different parts of the country. I think the original idea for "In My Tree" was recorded in Chicago. we were more on-the-fly during the making of No Code, and some good thing happened out of that, but we were also really tired. It was difficult to tour and play these shows that were two or three hours long and then force ourselves to produce something in a studio. Still, a lot of my drumming ideas got embraced and everybody was real supportive of each other.
MP: Has your setup or gear changed much between Eleven and Pearl Jam?
JI: I'm using a much lighter stick, and that's an adjustment that came from the injuries to my wrist and elbow. I'd been using those sticks that were butted on both ends, but now I'm using the Pro-Mark 737. It's a lot lighter and a bit more where I'm at right now. It just fits me better.
When I was young, I'd look at a guy like John Bonham and think, "Wow, that guy's an animal. I want to play like that." But I grew to realize he wasn't trying to be like that. That just who he was. So when I finally brought that realization back to my own playing, I asked myself, "Why try to play heavy when, by nature and my body size, it feels better to just play?"
MP: Let's talk about how your role as drummer has changed. In Eleven, you were way up front in the mix. But you don't have to be that kind of engine in Pearl Jam. The drums often serve to color the music.
JI: You know, I hadn't really noticed that. I haven't spent a lot of time listening to all the stuff I've done or thought about comparing it. You hear this a lot from musicians, but it's true: You try to do whatever's required for thatr particular song or situation.
MP: I'm not talking about style as much as I am the feel of what you're playing.
JI: Oh, I see what you're saying. I've never really talked about these things with another drummer before, so I may not express this very well. But I suppose it's just the changes I've gone through in life. In music and all of art, you reflect where you're at in life. If a person's more angry and aggressive, they tend to play faster and harder. If a person's in a more mellow space, they probably more are open to going with the flow -- when it's time to rock, you rock, but when it's time to lay back a little bit, it just happens.
MP: Do you think going off your medications made a difference in your playing?
JI: Certainly. I don't think music is too far removed from someone's mental state. I think it's very indicative. When a person feels more free and happy, they play more free and happy.
MP: What made you decide to go off the meds last May?
JI: I ended up becoming a student of a spiritual teacher, a guru. A friend of mine in Seattle was a devotee of this guru, and he asked me one day if I'd like to see him. And this teacher has made such a difference. My relationship with him has been life-tranforming and his teachings have made it possible for to live life without medication. For me, it's a miracle.
MP: How has that affected your outlook an a day-to-day and long-tern basis?
JI: I'm just happier. Life is a lot more manageable. I'm grateful to have an opportunity to live with my friends and family with this point of view.
Pearl Jam is going to Hawaii, Australia, and New Zealand in a few weeks and we're doing over forty shows this summer. I definitely have great, new feelings about music and being a part of that musical family. Mow I can appreciate it on a level I never could before.