Welcome to the Deep Dive. Today we're really
immersing ourselves in the world of an artist
who, well, she operates entirely on her own terms.
Completely. Blurring the lines between classical
composition, sprawling literary fiction, and
this really experimental folk music. Joanna Newsom.
The voice, the harpist, the wizard of these incredibly
long narrative songs. That's her. So our mission
for this deep dive is, I think, pretty crucial.
We're not just summarizing her career. Oh, not
at all. We need to synthesize the information,
really try to explore the central paradox about
her. Exactly. How did an artist defined by such
like. intensely complex, highly intellectual
music. Right, coming from this very strict, almost
media -free classical background. How did she
become so well integrated into mainstream American
culture? You know, collaborating with hip -hop
icons, starring in Paul Thomas Anderson films.
And marrying a huge mainstream comedian. It's
quite the journey. It really is. So let's start
with the basics, the vital statistics that kind
of frame this unique path. Joanna Newsom, born
January 18, 1982, Grass Valley, California. Okay.
Her main occupations listed are singer -songwriter
and actress. Her music, well, it defies easy
categorization, doesn't it? Oh, completely. You've
got progressive folk, chamber folk, baroque pop,
indie folk. It's a mix. All centered around her
signature instrument, the harp. She's got four
key studio albums. The Milk -Eyed Mender from
2004, Yawns in 2006, Have One on Me in 2010,
and then Divers in 2015. A really solid body
of work there. And yes, the connection we mentioned
since 2013, married to comedian and actor Andy
Samberg. That whole high art, low art thing isn't
just like a fun fact. No, it feels central, doesn't
it? Especially to her more recent career. It's
kind of the defining theme we need to unpack.
And to really get into that paradox, you have
to start right at the beginning. The source,
that highly controlled, almost utopian environment
of her childhood. Nevada City, California. Right.
Her parents, both doctors, described as progressive
minded professionals. And kind of idealists.
That idealism wasn't just theoretical. It created
this really specific media blackout. Yeah, the
sources detail that so clearly. It's fascinating.
She was basically not allowed to watch television
or listen to the radio. Think about that. Growing
up in the 80s and 90s in the U .S. without TV
or radio. It's almost unimaginable now. Her parents
were hoping to. Protect us from bad influences
like violent movies or stupid stuff. So he created
this huge void where pop culture usually sits
for a kid. And when you take away that constant
stream of, you know, easily digestible stuff,
you're almost forcing the child to build their
own world inside. Exactly. Develop complex narratives,
internal rhythms, instead of just reacting to
whatever's on TV. Right. But the house wasn't
silent, was it? No, far from it. It was filled
with music, but it was performed music, live
music in the home, not mass -produced stuff piped
in. Her father played guitar. Okay. And her mother
was a classically trained pianist, but also played
things like the hammer dulcimer, the auto harp,
even conga drums. Wow, quite a range. So she
was steeped in this foundation of multi -instrumentalism,
classical structure from day one, but totally
shielded from the standard three -minute pop
song structure. Which leads directly to the harp,
doesn't it? Such a defining choice. A technically
demanding instrument historically narrative.
And she didn't just stumble into it later. She
wanted it early on. How early? She asked to learn
the harp at five years old. Five. It just speaks
to this immediate pull towards something unique
and challenging. Did she start right away? Well,
the local instructor actually suggested she start
with piano first, you know, get the basics down.
Makes sense. She did that, but then quickly moved
to the harp. And she said she loved it from the
first lesson onward. And it wasn't just a casual
hobby. Oh, no. This is where you see the commitment.
She progressed really rapidly from the smaller
Celtic harps, the ones with levers, to a full
-size pedal harp by the seventh grade. A pedal
harp. Okay, explain why that jump is so significant.
What's the difference? Well, it's massive. The
Celtic harp is mostly diatonic, limited to certain
keys unless you manually flip levers. It's more
of a folk instrument in a way. The pedal harp
is a full classical orchestral instrument. Huge,
incredibly complex. It uses seven foot pedals
that change the pitch of the strings, letting
the harpist play in any key, play fully chromatic
music. instantly. Mastering that by age 12 or
13, that requires serious, demanding classical
training, high physical coordination, deep theoretical
understanding. It's like the difference between
learning a few guitar chords and playing classical
concertos. So it gave her a compositional tool
way beyond what most singer -songwriters ever
have access to. Exactly. And that rigor, that
discipline, it was mirrored in her education
too, especially the focus on narrative and literature.
She went to a Waldorf school, right? Yeah. And
Waldorf schools are known for that intense focus
on arts, crafts, and crucially, narrative memorization.
She studied theater there. And learned to memorize
and recite long poems. Long, often classical
poems. When you look at her later work, those
15, 17 -minute songs on Wise, the two -hour sprawl
of Have One on Me, that Waldorf Foundation seems
absolutely core. It's like the scaffolding for
her songwriting. She wasn't thinking in three
-minute verses. No, she was building these epic
multi -part poems and setting them to incredibly
complex music. And she carried that high art
focus into college, studying composition and
creative writing at Mills College. Mills College,
yeah. And it's worth noting, Mills isn't your
standard conservatory. It has this reputation
for being avant -garde, experimental. So choosing
Mills suggests she wasn't just looking to perfect
classical technique, but maybe... break the rules
with. I think so. Blend that training with new
experimental forms. She did end up dropping out,
though. Why was that? Not for lack of ability,
it seems. More because she needed to focus entirely
on her music, her performance career. Okay. And
her literary influences really underscore this
depth, don't they? Oh, yeah. Vladimir Nabokov,
known for that maximalist, intricate, almost
Baroque prose. And Ernest Hemingway. Famous for
the exact opposite. Minimalist, pared down, concise.
So drawing from those two extremes, what does
that suggest to you? It suggests she's aiming
for a synthesis, maybe maximizing the scope and
the language like Nabokov, but trying to keep
an essential clarity of emotion and theme like
Hemingway. It's ambitious. It really is. Her
whole world seems built on this deep, structured.
artistic expression now before we get to her
professional career there's one more interesting
background detail that connection to the california
establishment ah right the gavin newsom connection
she's his second cousin twice removed it's a
great bit of trivia isn't it but maybe more than
a footnote how so well it just reinforces that
she comes from this you know deeply rooted professionally
and politically established california family
even while she herself was operating way out
on the experimental fringes of the music scene
another layer to that paradox the background
of a political legacy family but her art is just
uncompromisingly anti -establishment okay so
that rigorous early life clearly set the stage
yeah because her career ascent wasn't exactly
slow was it it feels like it happened quite suddenly
Driven by the sheer force of her music, she drops
out of mills, embraces the indie world. Starting
with that classic DIY approach. Recorded two
EPs herself, Walnut Whales and Yarn and Glue,
around 2002 -2003. And these weren't intended
as big releases? No, apparently they were really
just meant as personal documents. You know, capturing
her early songs. She sold a few burned CD copies
at shows. So how did they get out there? Purely
through the Organic Indie Network. A friend,
Adam Klein, from the band Golden Shoulders, just
happened to pass a CD to Will Oldham, you know,
Bonnie Prince Billy, after a local show in Nevada
City. Wow, that's a huge connection. Will Oldham
is legendary in that scene. Immense, and Oldham
immediately asked her to tour with him. That's
major validation right there. And crucially,
Oldham didn't just keep it to himself. No, he
gave the CD to the owner of Drag City, his own
label. Highly respected independent label out
of Chicago. Drag City is perfect for her, isn't
it? Their whole thing is supporting these unique
kind of anti -commercial artists. Totally. They
released stuff by Palace Brothers, Smog, Gastrodale
Soul. I mean, they gave Newsome a home that valued
her uniqueness, didn't try to smooth it out for
the mainstream. And that led directly to her
debut album, The Milk -Eyed Mender, in 2004.
Which just immediately clicked with the underground
music world. It really captured something about
that moment, that sort of burgeoning neofolk
scene. And its impact was serious and lasting.
John Morich called it a neofolk benchmark just
a few years later. NME eventually named it the
12th best folk album of all time. Yeah, it achieved
this kind of canonical status within the genre
almost instantly. And it sold, too. By 2010,
that debut had sold 200 ,000 copies. Which really
showed there was an audience hungry for music
that demanded a bit more from them. Definitely.
And speaking of Reach, you see that first surprising
mainstream crossover with a song from that album,
right? Sprout and the Bean? Oh, yeah. In the
horror film The Strangers in 2008. That was such
a jarring placement. It really was. Her delicate,
really unique sound against this brutal contemporary
horror backdrop, it kind of proves that even
her early stuff had this versatile, almost uncanny
quality that could work outside its expected
genre. But the real move into, well, epic territory
came with the second album. Wise pronounced ease,
right? That's the one. Released in 2006. And
this definitely achieved wider exposure, got
a shortlist music prize nomination, charted on
the Billboard 200. We're not really just talking
folk music anymore here. No, this feels like
structured composition. Structurally, Wise is
just staggering. It's only five tracks long.
Only five. Yeah, but some of them go for like...
17 minutes. This is where that Waldorf trainee
in long form narrative probably comes into full
bloom, I think. It's an album that requires commitment
from the listener. You have to sit down, pay
attention, follow the journey. Absolutely. And
the defining feature musically is those elaborate,
almost Baroque orchestrations handled by the
legendary Van Dyke Parks. How did that collaboration
come about? It was actually her then -boyfriend,
the musician Bill Callahan, who recommended Parks'
iconic 1967 album Song Cycle. Which is itself
a masterpiece of complex, ornate pop orchestration.
Exactly. So Newsom heard that and specifically
sought out Parks to arrange her already dense
harp compositions. It was a perfect fit, conceptually.
But the production team on Wise is kind of a
paradox itself, isn't it? It really is, and it
says so much. about Newsom's control over her
sound. On one hand, you've got Van Dyke Parks
doing these lush, highly composed classical arrangements.
Maximum complexity. But then the album was engineered
by Steve Albini. Steve Albini. Known for the
exact opposite approach, right? That anti -production
ethos, recording Nirvana, Pixies, super raw and
direct. Precisely. Minimal interference, vouchering
the natural sound of the room, rejecting studio
gloss. So why pair those two? Maximalist arrangements
recorded with minimalist techniques. I think
it speaks to her wanting absolute artistic purity.
She wanted the complex, formal beauty of the
arrangements, yes. But she needed them to sound
immediate, raw, true to the instruments, not
slick or overproduced or sentimental. Albini
provided that clarity, that sharpness. It stopped
the dense compositions from just turning into
mush. So the result is massive in scope. But
still acoustically precise. You hear everything.
Exactly. And the scope was so grand, she actually
performed the whole album live in 2008 with full
classical ensembles. Wow. Like who? The Brooklyn
Philharmonic in New York, the Sydney Symphony
Orchestra in Australia. So it wasn't just critics
calling it classical. She was literally presenting
it as modern chamber music. Absolutely. Which
brings us to the next level of scale. Have one
on me in 2010. This wasn't just long. It was
a triple album, a triple album in 2010. Recorded
in Tokyo in 2009. Over two hours of songs. I
mean, in an era where music consumption was getting
faster and more fragmented, putting out a two
hour triple album. That's a profoundly defiant
statement, isn't it? Just pure artistic self
-belief and faith that your audience will commit.
Completely. And the critics seem to recognize
that ambition. And Powers at the L .A. Times
had a really insightful take. What was that?
She praised its variety, but specifically interpreted
how Newsome used the songwriter's default mode,
which is love, to explore how traditional love,
especially for women, can be both the beginning
and the end of possibility. That's powerful.
It shifts the focus from just the technical complexity
to the meaning. The themes. Yes. Her music isn't
just intricate sounds. It's grappling with these
huge literary, often feminine themes across this
vast canvas. It really cemented her role, not
just as a musician, but as a major narrative
voice. And surprisingly, perhaps, the commercial
success kept building. It culminated with Divers
in 2015. Her biggest commercial success so far,
actually, peaked at number one on the Billboard
Alternative Albums chart. Number one. Wow. And
notably, Divers for Speaks sales actually topped
the debut week of Wivers, which shows her audience
didn't just stick around. It grew and solidified.
Even with the demands of the music, what was
the concept behind Divers? Well, the title track
apparently evolved from a song she'd performed
live, tentatively called The Diver's Wife, described
as this. detailed love story about pearl hunting.
Pearl hunting. That's specific. Right. A diving
bell used to get pearls. A diver separated from
his wife. It's classic Newsome. Using these incredibly
particular, almost historical narratives to explore
universal stuff. Time, separation, love, memory.
So if we dig a bit deeper into the technical
side, the musical style itself. Yeah. Those official
labels highlight the blend, right? Progressive
folk, chamber folk, indie folk. Baroque pop.
Yeah, it's never just one thing. And she was
heavily linked, especially by journalists back
in the early 2000s with that whole freak folk
movement. Ah, yes. Freak folk characterized by
eccentricity, experimental sounds, moving away
from traditional folk. But she pushed back against
that label pretty strongly, didn't she? She did.
And that says a lot about her need for independence,
I think. Even though she was often called one
of its most prominent members, she stated very
plainly she claims no ties to any particular
music scene. Which makes sense. For someone who
put so much work into classical rigor and formal
composition, being lumped under a loose, sometimes
kind of dismissive label like freak folk. It
probably felt reductive. Yeah. Especially given
the complexity she was aiming for. Speaking of
which, her early work was really defined by some
sophisticated theory, particularly polyrhythms.
Right. Explain polyrhythms again quickly. Basically,
it's when you play two or more independent, conflicting
rhythms at the same time. It creates this really
complex, sometimes dizzying texture. It's a sign
of high -level compositional skill. But she moved
away from that. She did, quite publicly. After
Riai, she said, polyrhythms stopped being fascinating
to me and started feeling wanky. Wanky, that's
such a great revealing word choice, like complexity
just for the sake of showing off. Exactly. It
suggests she felt the technique. was becoming
gratuitous, overshadowing the actual substance,
the story, the melody, the emotion. It was a
conscious shift away from purely mechanical difficulty
towards semantic depth. Which explains why she'd
cite influences as diverse as the avant -garde
Prague rock band Henry Cow. Who were known for
free improvisation and super intellectual challenging
structures. While also incorporating elements
of really simple traditional Appalachian music
and its shape note notation. That range is just
radical, isn't it? Avant -garde, prog rock, and
basic folk notation. Her sources aren't just
wide, they actively conflict sometimes, forcing
her into this unique synthesis. Okay, let's move
to probably the most discussed, maybe most polarizing
element of her art. The voice itself. Ah, yes.
The soprano voice. Her delivery, especially early
on, definitely drew a lot of commentary. Critics
often called it childlike. Which is a loaded
term, isn't it? It implies a lack of maturity,
maybe even technique. And Newsom, understandably,
expressed real disappointment with that label.
She preferred to call her style untrainable.
Untrainable. What's the distinction there? Well,
untrainable suggests something innate, idiosyncratic,
an instrument that just resists conforming to
standard vocal coaching rather than simply being
unsophisticated. It highlights that her voice
is fundamentally unique, not easily replicated
or slotted into neat categories. What's fascinating,
though, is that her voice did change. It physically
transformed, forcing an evolution in her sound
that critics noticed almost immediately on Have
One On Me. That's right. And this wasn't a stylistic
choice. It was medical. In 2009, she developed
vocal cord nodules. A common issue for professional
singers, unfortunately. Yeah, but hers were severe
enough that she couldn't speak or sing at all
for two months, just silence. Wow. And the recovery
process, plus some subsequent vocal modifications
she undertook, it fundamentally changed her physical
instrument. So that richer, maybe deeper tone
people heard on her later work wasn't her deciding
to sound different, but a direct result of healing
and physical changes. Essentially, yes. Yeah.
How was that change received then? Did people
see it as her maturing or did they miss the old
sound? Generally, I think it was seen as a maturation.
While that really high -pitched, maybe polarizing
quality softened, her ability for complex phrasing,
for sustained narrative, that all remained. So
the core newsomeness was still there. Exactly.
It resulted in a voice that was maybe lower,
richer, perhaps more traditionally palatable
for some folks, but it still had that essential
eccentricity and narrative power. It's a really
interesting case study in how an artist's sound
can be totally redefined by something involuntary,
pushing them into new territory. And looking
ahead, despite the long gaps between albums,
it sounds like she is actively working on new
stuff. Definitely. After nearly a decade since
Divers, we've got... solid proof of new songs
being played live. In 2023, she did a surprise
opening set for Fleet Foxes. Oh, right. And debuted
five new songs with tentative titles like Bombs
Are Whistling, Marie at the Mill, Little Hand
the Air Again, and No Wonder. Five new songs.
That's significant. And then in 2024, during
a concert residency, she debuted two more originals,
Home Economics and Rovensheer. Okay, so that's
seven new songs debuted in about a year. That
strongly suggests a fifth studio album must be,
well, pretty far along in development, continuing
that legacy of complex storytelling. Which leads
us perfectly into the final and maybe most contradictory
piece of her career puzzle. How this artist of
such intense internal rigor has so successfully
embraced collaborations and roles way outside
her initial niche. It confunds that paradox we
started with. Yeah, her collaboration list is
surprisingly wide ranging. It really shows her
willingness to just cross artistic boundaries
without blinking. Early on, sure, she worked
with experimental acts like Nervous Cop, Vetiver.
Right, kind of expected. And she contributed
to the work of the legendary folk revivalist
Vashti Bunyan. But then things take a sharp turn
into mainstream comedy and even hip hop. The
comedy links are amazing. She provided vocals
for the Lonely Island song Rastret. Which is
hilarious. And appeared in the MGMT music video
for kids playing the mom. Yeah. Here's this artist
citing Nabokov. studying polyrhythms, and she's
happily playing the mom in a big indie pop video
and singing on comedy rap tracks. It shows a
great self -awareness, doesn't it? A playful
attitude about her own high art image. Like,
she doesn't take that pedestal too seriously.
Totally. And the range just keeps going. She
worked with Thou and the Get Down, Stay Down.
And maybe most surprisingly, she was a guest
composer on the Roots -acclaimed 2010 album How
I Got Over. The Roots? I mean, they're known
for their musical sophistication, bridging hip
-hop and jazz. with real compositional depth
her contributing there really places her as a
serious sought -after composer regardless of
genre lines. That flexibility is just astounding.
But maybe the biggest pivot was her move into
acting and not just cameos. She took a really
substantial, vital role in Paul Thomas Anderson's
2014 film Inherent Vice. Adapting Thomas Pynchon,
no less. She played Sordalus, right? And narrated
the whole film. Yeah, she basically functions
as this ethereal guide through Pynchon's notoriously
dense rambling story. Choosing her voice for
that role was just a brilliant move by PTA. absolutely
her unique vocal sound combined with that innate
ability she has to deliver complex wordy material
with clarity and feeling she was the perfect
sonic anchor for that kind of challenging film
peter travers at rolling stone called her narration
gorgeously rendered. It really confirmed that
her instrument, her voice, is incredibly compelling
for storytelling, whether it's sung or spoken.
Definitely. And her other acting roles lean right
into that comedy world connection we talked about.
She showed up as a harpist in Portlandia. Of
course. A steampunk doctor in the Lonely Islands
movie Popstar. Never stop, never stopping. Perfect.
And even had a role as Caroline Saint -Jacques
Renard in the final episode of Brooklyn Nine
-Nine. She's fully embedded in that whole comedy
ecosystem now. Which brings us, naturally, to
the personal context that kind of frames this
whole paradox. She dated musician Bill Callahan
for a few years, right? He sang on Wise. Yeah,
from about 2004 to 2007. He provided guest vocals
on that massive track, Only Skin. But then she
met Andy Samberg in 2006, actually at one of
her concerts. Well, he was a fan. Apparently
so. And their relationship grew, leading to their
marriage in Big Sur back in 2013. And that pairing
is just the perfect symbol of the whole thing,
isn't it? The ultimate meeting of high art complexity
and literary depth with massive mainstream broadcast
comedy success. The intellectual musician marrying
the star of SNL in Brooklyn Nine -Nine. It's
such a fascinating merger of sensibilities. And
even their real estate choices seem to reflect
this blend, the intellectual bohemian meeting
Hollywood success. They bought the historic Moorcrest
estate in L .A.'s Beachwood Canyon. Which has
serious old Hollywood history, right? Yeah, owned
by silent film star Mary Astor's parents, rented
by Charlie Chaplin. It's like the serious artist,
composer of two -hour poetic albums, inheriting
this piece of classic Hollywood glamour through
her connection to a mainstream cultural figure.
They also have a place in New York, right? Yeah.
West Village. all this creative work and this
high profile life, they seem to have maintained
a pretty stable family life. They had their first
child, a daughter, in 2017. And a second child
was reported in 2023. So this deep commitment
to home life exists right alongside maintaining
one of the most intellectually demanding and
unique careers in contemporary music. So if we
tie this all back together, thinking about her
overall impact, the critical recognition is undeniable
and lasting, isn't it? Absolutely. Looking back,
NPR included two of her songs, Sapokanakin from
Divers and the much earlier Peach Plum Pear from
her first EP in their big list of the 200 greatest
songs by 21st century women, number 129 and number
80. That's serious validation across her career.
It confirms her output isn't just seen as eccentric
or niche anymore. It's canonical. Her whole path
is defined by these incredible contradictions,
isn't it? Totally. Coming from classical rigor
and literary depth, enduring a physical vocal
injury that forced an evolution, actively rejecting
easy labels like Freak Folk. Yet achieving mainstream
recognition through these critically adored complex
albums and through these really visible, often
funny roles in Hollywood. She manages to be intensely
specific and deeply integrated all at once. brings
us to the final thought for you, the listener,
to really consider as you maybe go back and listen
to her work. Think about how Joanna Newsom pulls
this off. How does she maintain this intensely
complex, literary, unique musical voice, remember,
she called polyrhythms wanky, and cited experimentalists
like Henry Cow. While simultaneously contributing
key elements to mainstream comedy and film, what
does that incredibly diverse yet deeply focused
career tell us about what it means to be an enduring,
serious artist in the 21st century? Maybe it
shows that high art ambition and surprising mainstream
visibility aren't necessarily opposites? Perhaps
by strategically engaging with the mainstream,
but always on her own terms, she actually uses
that visibility to reinforce and sustain her
intensely unique, uncompromising artistic vision.
It's quite remarkable when you lay it all out.