Redefining a Relationship to Music: An Interview with Jack Manley

I had the pleasure of getting to speak to singer/songwriter Jack Manley. He has such a powerful story and we discuss how his past struggles have taken form in a new album.

Lana Fleischli

I just want to hear your point of view about the album itself or the EP itself and just where it came from for you. 

Jack Manley

The long and short of it is. I had stopped playing music completely. I was using pretty heavily at the time, and I overdosed on fentanyl accidentally. 

Twice in one night– was hospitalized twice in one night and then for an extended, like, 30 days. And while I was in the hospital, there was a broken guitar there with, like, four strings on it. And it would barely stay in tune. 

It was a crappy little hospital guitar at a public hospital. I just eventually started playing with it because there was no tv. Sorry– there was a tv, but there was three VHS. That's it. And we couldn't go outside. 

You couldn't do anything.I eventually, with no distractions, started playing. And pretty quickly I realized…This one story comes to mind, where I was playing and, like, I stopped and I would go, back to my room and this group of guys would, like, come to my room and knock on the door, my door, and be like, “Will you come out and play guitar for us?” And I'd be like, 

“What? Leave me alone.” You know what I mean? But, yeah, I quickly started to realize that it wasn't even so much– it was for me, for sure– but at a certain point, it became for the community, it became for others. 

And that sort of like service–based philosophy to be of service to others is very much entwined with the recovery culture at large. So I kind of drew that correlation and was like, “Oh! For as much as it's helping me, it seems to be helping other people. Maybe this is something I should have never thrown away.” You know what I mean? Because it's not like I fell out with music —I had some bad experiences, lost some big opportunities… Then turned my back on it and threw it away and aggressively ran in a different direction. 

To just watch hardened criminals sobbing over music I was playing was moving. It was really moving. And I started writing just sort of immediately for a couple of reasons. One: I couldn't remember anything. I could barely read for the first month. I was pretty fucked up.  So I just started writing new things. And those are the songs that turned into the EP. I wrote them in their entirety, basically, in the hospital. Those first four songs. And then when I got out, 

I shared it with a friend who immediately sort of gravitated towards them. And then. Within, I think less than two months, I shared them with my friend Josh Epard, who's in a band called Coheed and Cambria. He was like, “This is great. I'm off tour. Let's go record, like– tomorrow.” So everything started moving very quickly, and people just immediately kind of responded to it. And I've been trying to keep that– I'm, of course, a selfish artist, but–I'm also trying to keep that service mentality. I hope that doesn't sound. Like, Pretentious.

LF

That's like a crazy story. 

JM

Yeah, it was wild. And there's all these funny little details, too. Like, there was this one guy I was there with who happened to be like a music professor for NYU for 40 years who was retired. And was dealing with his own issues. So he would like. We would have a daily workshop where I would meet him in the cafeteria. And we would go over the songs I wrote, and he would be like ”no. Terrible. What does this line mean? What does that line mean?”...He would just be like, extremely harsh and critical, but it was really great, and I just kind of laughed, and was like, wow, what a funny opportunity! And this guy is such a character. I [had] to see what is going on here. For nothing else but, like, entertainment purposes. Because there's a lot of time to kill when you're in a situation like that. 

LF

I just wanted to hear your point of view. I guess this kind of leads to my next question  How would you characterize your relationship with music? Was it hard to kind of come back to something that you would really pushed away? 

JM

Yeah. Well. I would certainly agree with you and describe it as a complicated relationship. Music is so important to me. I love it so deeply. Yet, I often resent it. And often wish that I was never sort of bit by the bug or whatever. I've wished often in my life that I could find fulfillment in other ways– that I could process reality in other ways. Less laborious, less financially, sometimes devastating, less time consuming, less like, ego. Destroying or satiating. You know what I mean? It depend at any given time. But music took a hold of me from a super young age. I've always just been deeply moved by it and in love with it. And I lose myself in the process. And I find myself. I'll find a song, and I'll go back and reflect on it, and I'll be like, “Oh  my goodness! My subconscious was so clearly alerting me”. 

It's just… I don't know. It fills so many…Deep spaces in me. And it also creates a tremendous opportunity for connection. It really is. Like… I don't know–this all powerful thing that I'm lucky enough to—I don't want to sound culty— but commune with that times. It's this powerful, powerful thing. And, yeah, more recently, like the last couple of years. I had some successes and then some more failures in the New York City indie rock scene. Was in, like, a couple buzzy bands. And I just felt so beaten down and humiliated. I wasted so much time pursuing this thing that takes everything from me and it gives me nothing back.

And that's not true, right? I think that was just the way I was looking at it at that time…through the lens of sickness and drug abuse and self hatred. 

Yeah, it's always [done] way more for me than I've done for it, right? And, yeah, more recently, it's given me purpose. It's given me a way to process my emotions like it did when I was a kid. It's given me a framework in which to engage with the world and dissect my own feelings, thoughts, emotions. But for the longest time, I swear I just didn't want anything to do with it. I just felt so turned off by the music business, and people in it, and past experiences that I started giving equipment away. I didn't play guitar for, like, three years. I was completely done, completely over it. 

LF

It's such a complicated thing because art is so personal. It's like giving that up. It's giving up, like a part of yourself kind of.  

JM 

Totally. And I mean in hindsight, I think I was already on a pretty dark path. And was pretty sick. But I would say that the moment I turn my back on music and stop playing and stop writing is when things got really, really bad, right? Because I took away my primary coping skill. And was just left with nothing. So picking that back up, reengaging with it in the most direct and brutally honest way possible has been really incredible for me. And for whatever small impact I can have on anyone else. I'm super psyched and fortunate to know that already. I've gotten some pretty powerful emails. Related to drugs and whatnot. But also just not even talking about that. Just talking about, like, “Hey, your music has been really impactful to me.” 

And that's, like, everything. 

LF

Yeah. No, it's like. Goes back to community and what you can do for others. 

JM 

Totally. Yeah. 

LF

You were in a lot of bands before. What has it been like doing it by yourself? I don't know. Is it more like, exposing yourself, I guess?

JM 

Yeah, I think so. I always was able to hide behind others in the band, and noise and loud guitars. Whereas, with this project, I've been trying to be as simple and direct as possible while still entertaining myself and indulgin some impulses here and there to maybe do things a little more idiosyncratic or whatever. But yeah, it's definitely the most honest, raw writing I've ever done. 

And it's been very scary, but it's also been very therapeutic. It's funny because, I'm sure, like, anyone who knew me or met me was like, one look at me or like, one conversation was probably like, “Oh, wow, that guy's not doing so hot”. Or, maybe even like, “Wow, that guy's strung out”. But in my mind, I was, like, holding up a pretty solid front. People didn't know. I was fairly high functioning, I suppose, but in hindsight, yeah, that's all probably bullshit. 

So, yeah, as scary as it seems; And unnerving at times. It's like, I'm sure people probably knew anyway. At least that's what I like to tell myself. Because for the longest period of time, I had no interest in publicly admitting that I'd been struggling and that I had all these issues. And I felt so defective already, so to kind of shine further light on it, was really counterintuitive. But the more I engaged, with healthier people; and healthier places and things, the more I learned that that could be a very important step towards freedom. And that by sort of telling on myself publicly, I would have less of a chance to fall back into old habits, maybe, and be manipulative or whatever. I don't know. 

LF

I see that. I think a lot. What you're saying really does go back to community like you're giving something, but by kind of letting yourself be honest. 

Who's the artist that makes you want to do music? 

JM 

I mean, there's been many, many artists that have, of course, inspired me over the years. Some that are probably obvious, right? And some that are super not so obvious…

I think we as people and as artists, we kind of take everything in, right? And then it all comes back out through our own filter. But I distinctly remember, my older brother giving me OK Computer when I was super, super young… I don't know, like, 4th, 5th grade… and [my brother] being like, “All right, now is the time where you have to start listening to good music.” And I remember being like, “Well, I'm listening to Smash Mouth. What are you talking about?” 

That was a huge record for me, OK Computer. Was way too young to understand what it was talking about or what it means. I've probably still not smart enough to fully appreciate it for what it is. But just like the way the guitar sounded and everything. That's such a huge, pivotal record for me. And I would say In Rainbows later was as well. 

I really loved the Smiths, The Strokes, Interpol, Joy Division, Elliot Smith, Fiona apple. Deer Hunter. Kind of like circling around that post punk. But at the same time. Like, super down with Neil Young and some top 40s pop. It really totally depends on my mood and where I'm at. I went on a trip to Big Sur, maybe like a year and a half, two years ago…And I rediscovered the Red Hot Chili Peppers. And initially it was, like, kind of just goofing around. Then I was like, you know what? These songs are really fucking well written. Some of these performances are so good. Some of these lyrics are so good.  I mean, some of it is awful. But some of it is so great. It really is kind of all over the place, I think. 

LF

What's a piece of advice you would give to your teenage self? 

JM

Piece of advice I'd give to my teenage self. I think, “Just go for it. Just go for it. Get out of your head. Don't worry.” Just basic cliche, cliche, cliche. But truly, just go for it and get out of your head and just have fun. 

LF

What does everyone have to look forward to for you? 

JM 

Hopefully a lot. But I do have a collection of maybe 15 songs that haven't been fully in earnest recorded. That have just been demoed out so far, and it's definitely the best stuff I've ever written. And some is, like, a little heavier. More like mid tempo and then also heavier guitar sounds. Sludgier almost, but also some of it is, like, acoustic and really beautiful sounding. Further exploring a lot of the themes. 

I kind of opened up on the EP. But yeah, I think an ep and an album. Hopefully sooner rather than later. We're already figuring out. We're going back and forth right now on dates to go back into the studio.

So I'm just hoping to follow everything up as soon as possible.