#1968 - Jason Everman

The Joe Rogan Experience.

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Well, thanks for coming, man. I appreciate it.

Yeah, thanks for asking.

But you've had a wild life, dude.

How the fuck does one go from playing in Nirvana and Soundgarden to being a soldier?

Um, it's a longer story. I don't know how...

How long an answer you want?

We got plenty of time.

Okay, um...

Hmm. So...

I guess being a professional rock musician was something I kind of fell into.

It wasn't something that I had a dream of, you know?

It's like, oh, I'm gonna be...

You know, I love playing in bands, I love playing music, but it was like at this punk rock level where

you're never gonna make a living at it, you know?

It's just something fun to do.

And then, uh...

Started playing with Nirvana.

And even at that level, you know, still not making money from it.

But, you know, touring...

Was it the early days of Nirvana?

Yeah, yeah.

So Nirvana wasn't worldwide at that point?

No, no.

Even on the Seattle level, like one of the smaller bands, you know?

Like there was bands like Mudhoney and Soundgarden that were better known than Nirvana was at the time.

And you played for Soundgarden too, which is also hilarious.

Yeah.

And when did you...

Like, so you're in the beginning.

So did you just have...

Did you have friction with the band?

Like, why did you wind up leaving?

So with Nirvana, it was just...

I guess initially, like when I came on board,

like, Kurt wanted a second guitar player for the live show, basically.

Like, have a heavier sound live,

take some of the guitar playing responsibility off him so he could concentrate on vocals,

like that kind of thing.

And initially, like, I thought I was going to be able to contribute to the band creatively.

And then it got to the point where I realized that wasn't going to happen.

And then the same thing happened with Chad, the drummer, I think.

And it was...

Like, everyone in the band, including myself, was, like, very...

poor communicators, like a lot of passive aggression.

And, you know, I mean, we were kids, you know?

How old were you at the time?

20, I think.

And...

Yeah, I just...

I wasn't equipped for it.

And it became more and more unhappy with the situation and then ended up leaving.

So, was it that, like, when you tried to put creative input in,

it would get shut down, or they weren't interested, or Kurt wasn't interested?

Yeah, so...

Like, on the rare time...

where we actually rehearsed as a band, which was not a lot,

Kurt would kind of half-heartedly, like,

Hey, who has ideas?

And, like, I'd throw a couple ideas out,

and then Chad, like a very accomplished musician in his own right,

would throw some ideas out,

and then it'd just kind of be glossed over, and, like,

Okay, here's the new song I wrote, you know, and start learning that.

So it was very...

Ego-centric.

Cursory, you know?

It's like, he kind of, like, threw it out there,

but then it wasn't going to go anywhere.

And so...

So you went for Nirvana first, and then the Soundgarden?

Yeah, like, I left...

We did a U.S. tour, like, the first full U.S. tour that Nirvana did in...

88 or 89, I can't remember what year it was,

but I think it was still the 80s.

And, like, I left at the end of that tour, like,

Okay, I'm done.

Like, nice little foray into rock and roll,

but I'm going to do something else.

And when I got home...

I was planning on going trekking in the Himalayas, like...

Really?

Yeah, that was the next thing.

It's like, Okay, this was a nice diversion,

but I'm going to kind of fulfill this dream I've had since I was a kid

of, like, trekking in the Himalayas.

So, like, I went to Metzger's Maps in Seattle

and was buying maps of the Himalaya, of Nepal and Tibet and all this stuff,

and, like, getting gear sorted, and that's what I was going to do.

And then, at some point that summer,

or fall, I can't remember what time of year it was,

into summer,

Kim from Soundgarden called me and was like,

Hey, Hero, their bass player then, like, quit.

Do you want to audition for the band?

I was like, you know, at that point, like,

Soundgarden was my favorite Seattle band, like, hands down.

And I was like, Okay.

You know, fully not believing I'd ever get chosen.

And then you did.

Yeah.

And how did that end?

I got fired.

What happened?

It's complicated, but I think at the end of the day,

I wasn't getting along with Chris that well, the singer.

And, you know, obviously, you know, who's going to go?

Right.

Yeah, it was me.

Yeah.

So, how does that translate into becoming a soldier?

I mean, there's more.

There's there's more to the story than that,

because there was still like,

I basically like getting fired from Soundgarden,

like put me in a pretty bad tailspin.

I mean, it was a rough patch of my life for sure.

And so.

In order to kind of.

Cut this tailspin off like I had to do something radical.

And what I did was ended up moving to New York.

And so, I mean, there's more to the story than that.

But moved to New York, like basically, you know,

I grew up in rural western Washington, like,

so it's kind of polar opposite to what I what my experience was,

like got a job in a warehouse, got an apartment

and kind of started my New York life

and did that for a couple of years.

What was your plan when you moved to New York?

You just wanted to try it?

Experience life in the city?

I think the main plan was like,

like get out of this funk that I was in, you know?

How old were you at the time?

21, 22 maybe.

So just young guy trying to figure out life.

Yeah.

I mean, like the Soundgarden thing,

getting fired from Soundgarden, like it broke my heart.

It was a bad spot for me.

Because I love that band.

And it wasn't about, you know,

I never thought they would get as big as they did.

Honestly, it kind of surprised me when they did.

Because, yeah, they're a great band,

but I always thought they were a little too quirky to be huge,

despite, you know, the Chris factor,

like, you know, this genetically engineered rock star, you know?

But I always thought they were a little too weird

to have like mainstream success, which was fine with me.

I thought they'd be like a big indie band,

like Sonic Youth or Butthole Surfers, like that level, you know?

But it's more like I just love that band

and I love playing with them.

And like having that taken away,

yeah, it really fucked me up for a bit.

So you just went to New York City

to try to experience a different life?

Just running from my demons, you know?

Like that old rubric.

Yeah.

But, you know, your demons tend to follow you.

Always.

What were your demons?

You want to go down that rabbit hole?

Sure.

There's a few.

Growing up, you know, like,

and like everyone has a story, right?

Like when my childhood was bad.

My childhood wasn't bad necessarily,

but it was, there was a lot of unhappiness for sure.

And it stemmed from like my mother and my stepdad

not being happy, you know?

I don't feel bad talking about it now

because they're both gone now.

But they, you know,

they probably shouldn't have gotten married.

And they both,

and that's one thing is like an adult,

like looking back, you can kind of,

you see your parents as human beings

and not like these magical creatures

that like feed you and take care of you.

Right.

And, you know, they got their dreams

and their, you know, crush dreams.

Like they're humans.

So I have a lot of compassion for them now as an adult.

It's like, oh, I get it now, you know?

It's like they weren't bad people.

They were just people.

And it's just being a child in that environment.

Yeah.

Because that's, you have nothing to compare it to.

Right.

It's just reality.

It's like, oh, I guess this is what being a kid is, you know?

Kind of sucks.

Yeah.

It can.

Yeah.

But through that suck,

a lot of times that's where you sort of get your drive,

unfortunately.

Oh, I'm a firm believer that growth is the result of trauma.

Like you need that thesis, antithesis, synthesis, you know?

Like Stephen Jay Gould called it pertaining to evolution,

punctuated equilibrium,

where like evolution tends to stay stable if there's no pressures.

But as soon as there's this introduction of new pressures,

usually the result is some cataclysmic event.

It's not a gradual thing.

It's usually sudden and extreme.

And that's where these new evolutionary pressures are introduced.

And it's like on this level of species, you adapt and survive or you die off.

So I kind of like putting that template on the individual.

Like you kind of cruise through life and then something fucked up happens.

And then, you know, hopefully you step up and grow from it, you know,

learn from it, all that stuff.

So you go to New York City.

You were there for a few years.

What were you doing while you were there?

So initially I worked in a warehouse.

And it was fine, you know?

I was like paying my rent, living in Alphabet City,

like having this urban life that I never thought I would have had otherwise.

Did you know anybody there?

Yeah, I had friends there from touring and stuff.

And so that was kind of my foothold for moving there.

Like didn't play music.

Like I brought some equipment over.

Like initially I went over with like a backpack.

And that was it.

And I had a friend of mine's band who were on tour pick me up at JFK

and drive me into the city.

I still remember this.

Like the day before, like I was doing different kind of work to save money

for the move.

So the day before I flew to New York, I was like bucking bales of hay

in like a hay field, like farm stuff, right?

And my buddy Spike, who I'm still good friends with,

played in this band called Mind Over Four.

They picked me up at JFK.

And I remember sitting in the van and looking at my Converse,

and like I still had like straw stuck in the Converse

from baling hay the day before.

It was like, okay, this is, here we go.

That's an adventure.

Yeah.

Wow.

So you're there for a few years, living that life,

and how do you transition out of that?

So I went back to Seattle at some point during the first year in New York

to ship more of my personal belongings over.

And actually, I went to Sub Pop because they had UPS shipping there.

And I'm like boxing up my stuff in the Sub Pop offices

and like getting ready to ship it to New York,

like including like a Marshall cabinet, like some music gear.

But I had this vague notion of, yeah, maybe I'll play there.

But honestly, I probably didn't touch a bass or a guitar

for like the first year after getting fired from Soundgarden.

It just still kind of had a bad taste in my mouth.

But what changed that was summer of 91 maybe,

I was friends with this band called Skunk.

They're this indie rock band on Twin Tone Records.

There were three Matts, Matt Sweeney, Matt Quigley, and Matt Coleman.

So Matt Quigley, the bass player, quit right before a European tour

that they had booked supporting Babes in Toyland, another amazing band.

And so I get a call from Matt Sweeney, and he's like,

hey dude, Quigley quit, we got this tour coming up.

Do you want to fill in on bass for this tour?

So I'm like, I could work in this warehouse in New York,

like in the sweltering New York summer heat.

Or I could go to Europe for eight weeks or whatever and tour.

So I'm like, yeah, okay, I'll do it.

So I learned the songs and did that tour.

And to this day, it was the funnest tour I'd ever done.

And I think that was because I really had nothing emotionally invested in the band.

I like the music, I like the dudes,

but it was just all I had to do was go out and play to the best of my ability.

And yeah, it was just fun.

There was no burden, no heaviness to it.

Like being a part of Soundgarden's immense band.

Yeah, that I was emotionally invested in.

And so how do you go from that to…

There's more to the story.

Keep going.

So I did the European tour with Skunk.

And honestly, I think to this day, the best bass performances I ever did.

I got some board recordings from that tour that once in a while I'll listen to it and go,

yeah, you know, it's not bad.

Do you think it's because you were free?

Because you didn't have pressure and burden?

I think that was a component for sure.

But also the songs were a bit more complicated.

And stylistically, it wasn't necessarily my jam.

I was into heavier stuff.

And this is kind of more like soul asylum, like indie rock, which is great.

And the bass parts are really complicated.

So I kind of had to push myself to learn them.

And again, like, you know, grew from it as a musician.

So I did the tour, came back.

I started playing with this kind of industrial band on Earache Records called Old Lady Drivers,

which is like another kind of interesting foray into a genre that…

Like, I was a fan of the grindcore bands for sure.

But even this was like…

It was kind of beyond that because it's a lot of synthesizers and drum machines

and stuff that I really wasn't exposed to before.

But they had a record deal with Earache.

And you know who John Zorn is?

No.

So he's an American treasure.

He's this avant-garde jazz musician based out of New York.

Google him if you get a chance.

But, like, brilliant.

He does a lot of stuff.

He's really prolific.

Definitely a genius.

But so Zorn was on board.

He produced the record.

And John actually lived in my neighborhood.

So I'd, like, go to his apartment.

He lived, like, two blocks away in Alphabet City.

And he had this insane record collection.

Like, the whole flat was, like, shells of vinyl.

And it was all organized very meticulously.

Plastic sleeves for each jacket.

It was…

And he was, like, a student of American music, or music in general.

And he got his knowledge.

And it was just cool.

Like, oh.

So here's this guy, like, at least on a kind of underground level.

Like, very well known.

Very well respected.

Like, huge in Japan, of course.

And he's just, like, this nice kind of normal dude.

Like, giving me a tour of his record collection, you know.

And we're both living in this shitty neighborhood in Manhattan.

This is cool.

So that was a good experience.

Like, played shows with him.

Like, played CB's again.

CBGB's, which is, you know, the legendary punk club in New York.

Which, even having…

I played there before, but it's just kind of like…

I would still get excited about it.

It's like, dude, I'm playing CBGB's.

This is like…

It's like this mythical place when I was a teenager, you know.

And it's like, oh, here I am.

So, did that.

But that was kind of, like, just a side thing for sure.

And then I got contacted.

So, going back between the Skunk Tour and the Old Lady Driver's experience.

I kind of got into playing music again.

Like, it became fun again.

Which is why I did it in the first place.

Like, it brought me joy.

But, you know, there was a couple times where it got to the point where the joy was, like,

fully extracted from the process.

And it just…

It wasn't fulfilling anymore, you know.

So, anyway, I'm back in New York, working in the warehouse, doing my thing.

And I get contacted by…

Have you ever heard of Uniform Choice?

No.

Like, a hardcore band from L.A., from the 80s.

I get contacted by Pat Dubar, who was, in the 80s, a singer for Uniform Choice.

And that was a band I was familiar with from the punk days and everything.

So, he was in this band called Mindfunk.

Which, first off, like, horrible name.

Like, get it?

We can go into that later.

But, he's…

Pat contacts me, and he's like,

Hey…

And they were signed to Epic Records.

Had one record out already.

And he's like,

Hey, we're going to replace one of our guitar players and our drummer.

It's like, are you interested in trying out?

And, honestly, I hadn't heard their record.

And I gave the first one a listen.

And, honestly, wasn't that excited about it.

But it was…

It was kind of…

Like, at this point in my life, it's like…

I kind of knew, like, if I'm going to give the music thing another go,

like, this is going to be it.

You know, it's like, do this, and…

It'll either catch fire, or it won't.

And if it doesn't, I'll go on to the next chapter.

Whatever that is.

So, I can't…

I don't even think I auditioned for the band.

I think they just…

Okay, you're in.

So, now we're looking for a drummer.

So, I went and poached my friend Sean back home in Washington.

He played in a band that I was a big fan of.

And I was a big fan of Sean.

And, like, convinced him to, like, come out to New York

and, like, join this band that, you know, he'd never heard of.

And it took a lot of convincing to get him to do it, but he did it.

And so, this kind of MindFunk 2.0 with Sean and I…

One plus side was, like, okay, major label, get put on salary,

like, don't need a day job anymore, right?

So, once again, I'm a professional rock musician.

Which, not that I care about the title, but it was nice not to have the day job.

So, we get a house in Monmouth County, New Jersey,

in order to write the next record.

So, band house, five of us living in this house.

And it was just routine.

Like, we'd get together every day, rehearse, write songs.

I was given, more or less, full creative reign for my ideas and stuff,

which was fulfilling on that level.

The band was managed by John Sazula.

Do you know Johnny Z?

So, he was, like, the dude who discovered Metallica.

That's kind of his claim to fame.

And he had a label called Megaforce Records,

which, great 80s movie, by the way, if you've never seen it.

No.

It's so good.

It's about the band?

No.

It's this horrible, yet brilliant action movie from, like, 1982, I think.

But that's a digression.

So, John and Marsha had this management company, like, Crazed Management.

They owned Megaforce Records, and that's the label that put out Kill Em All,

and the first pressing of Ride the Lightning.

And they did Merciful Fate, Melissa.

They did, you know, some really good records.

Like, the first Anthrax records as well, I think.

So, John managed some pretty big bands.

Like, he managed Anthrax, Suicidal Tendencies,

Ministry, I think.

Like, he was this kind of known quantity in the music world,

or at least in the heavy metal world.

Hard rock world, whatever you want to call it.

So, we had Johnny Z, signed to Epic,

had the house in Jersey, writing the record.

Like, with the name Mindfunk, which, again, is like a dumb name.

It kind of turned me off initially.

So, I suggested, like, making it one word, like, contracting it

to make it a little less odious.

So, I did that, kind of changed the logo.

So, it's kind of slipping in some aesthetic values that I thought

were better, at least, than what was going on at the time.

Why'd you hate Mindfunk so much?

It's just a dumb name, you know?

It's like the whole funk thing.

It's like, oh, Chili Pepper is like what?

No, it wasn't like that at all, you know?

But, you know, there's a lot of dumb band names out there.

And if the band catches fire, it doesn't matter if it's a dumb name.

It just gets accepted.

So, it's not that big a deal.

So, recording, blah, blah, blah.

Johnny Z.

We get to...

So, we get Terry Date, the producer, on board to produce the second record.

And I knew him, he's from Seattle, so I knew him from Soundgarden

and from, like, other local bands that he produced.

Like, a known quantity in that world.

We book out Bearsville Studio up in Woodstock, New York.

Like, those studios literally, like, on this old, you know, Dutch farm.

It's, like, idyllic.

So, we get Bearsville booked out for three months, got Terry Date on board.

It's, like, September of 90...

Must be September 92.

We pack up the U-Haul, all the gear, drive up to Bearsville

to start the next record.

So, Sean and I are in the barn setting up equipment on this farm

to start the pre-production work.

Like, I don't know, it was probably a Saturday.

Or no, it was a Friday. It was definitely a Friday.

So, we're setting up the equipment to start pre-production work when Terry gets in.

And, uh...

I think Pat came down to the barn as we're setting up.

And it's this late September.

You know, the heat has kind of left, like, New York State.

So, it's pleasant outside. It's beautiful. Sunny.

Farm. You know, this old barn we're setting up equipment in.

And...

Pat says, hey, we gotta get everyone together.

We, like, got some bad news.

So, Epic, the label, had dropped the band, like, that day.

Like...

Like, catastrophic, right? Or, could have been catastrophic.

And just the fact that it was, like, a Friday afternoon,

I'm sure it was, like, a post-it note on some dude at Epic's, like, computer monitor.

Drop Mindfunk.

It's like, oh, shit. I gotta do that.

So, it's like, fuck, you know?

It's like, a $300,000 recording budget.