‘Say it out loud’: Singer Josh Pyke on tackling vulnerability

3 months ago 29

Each week, Benjamin Law asks public figures to discuss the subjects we’re told to keep private by getting them to roll a die. The numbers they land on are the topics they’re given. This week he speaks to Josh Pyke. The Australian singer-songwriter, 47, has won four ARIA Awards. He’s also a children’s book author, co-host of the podcast Pump Up the Jams and an award-winning film composer. His latest release is the EP, Covers.

BODIES

You’re in your mid-40s. How’s your body holding up? Oh, man, my knees are shot. I’ve got patella tendonitis and it’s just brutal. I used to play basketball with my friends, skateboard and surf. It’s so confronting that in your mid- to late-40s all that becomes so much harder. Now I’ve got high cholesterol and high blood pressure, for some reason. It’s actually super-confronting.

Are you having to change things up, as a result? I try to drink less, which I don’t want to do. I’ve got a gym membership and take medication for high blood pressure and cholesterol. It’s such a cliche, but youth is beauty. And I don’t just mean aesthetic beauty: I mean that it’s beautiful. You’re free. I look at my kids – aged 12 and 14 – and they can just move. They’re not even trying.

You’ve been candid about living with anxiety. How are you managing it lately? Medication helps, but a lot of it has to do with just going easy on yourself. Years ago, before going on stage with the Sydney Symphony Orchestra, I remember feeling this wave of panic from the tip of my toes all the way up my body. And I’m about to step on stage in front of 2000 people at the Opera House. And I was like [shrugs], “What are you going to do?”

Wait, what do you do? I say this to my kids all the time: “Just talk about your vulnerability. As soon as you say it out loud, it takes away 80 per cent of the fear.” Another time in Tasmania, I had the same thing: I had a panic attack, but I had to perform. I got on stage and said, “I’ve just got to be open and honest about this. I had a big night last night. Sometimes that makes me have a panic attack, and I’m pretty much having one right now. But I’m grateful to play for you.” Everyone was super-cool; I even got a standing ovation. Everybody can relate to feeling vulnerable.

RELIGION

Religious leaders preach from the pulpit. Are you conveying any message when you play from the stage? I didn’t become an artist to pass on a message or try to impart wisdom. I do it because that’s how I express myself, find my place in the world and figure out how to deal with traumatic things in my life, like my mum passing away. The side effect of that seems to be that people have found comfort in it, which makes them feel that they’re not alone. And when people tell me that, they make me feel as if I’m not alone.

How recently did you lose your mum? Just last year.

Gee, I’m sorry, Josh; that’s a huge loss. She died from heart failure, but had dementia for 14 years. It’s hard to see a loved one go through that and go, “There is a God.” But we memorialised her through music. I was fortunate to have played with the Adelaide Symphony Orchestra a couple of months ago. The last song we played was What It Means to Be Alone (Catherine). It has a long, seven-minute meandering at the end, a musical representation of a slide into dementia. That was a great emotional catharsis for me.

DEATH

We’ve landed on “Death” and we’re already talking about your mother … It’s interesting: I didn’t get a big sense of catharsis when she passed away and I was really worried about that. I actually went to see a counsellor and was like, “I feel like there’s something wrong with me.” But, actually, I’d just incrementally been grieving for a really long time.

That makes sense. It was such a mixed bag of emotions. There was relief there as well. Whereas, recently, a friend who was much younger passed away and that just felt so … I don’t even know what the word is.

It feels unfair, right? [Nods] It’s not the natural order of the world. Old people die; that’s to be expected. But yeah, this was shit.

How have these losses affected how you live your life? Even when I was in my mid-20s, two friends of mine passed away: one from cancer and one from … well, nobody ever knew. Those losses informed the song Memories and Dust. It really made me think about how I wanted to live my life. And it made me throw my hat in the ring with music.

Does it make you reflect on death? Especially since having kids? It absolutely scares the shit out of me. It’s FOMO, basically. I don’t want to miss out on these amazing things that my kids will do. I’m a curious person, so I want to see what’s going to happen.

Do you have any funeral requests? [Laughs] I totally do. When I was 10, I was in England with my family and Enya’s Orinoco Flow was really big.

Oh, that’s a banger. Absolutely! I remember we were walking across this Tesco’s car park and I was singing the song and I said to my mum, “I want to have this song played at my funeral!” Apparently, I skipped across the car park like, “I can’t wait ’til my funeral!” And because I want to be a man of my word, I want it to be played.