Institute for Robert Downey Jr Studies > Required Reading

Tracks of His Years

If you saw him in Ally McBeal, you’ll know that Robert Downey Jr is an actor who can actually sing. During his guest-star stint on the ditzy law soap in 2000, he was hauled up on stage at McBeal’s favoured nightclub more than once, notably for a cover of Joni Mitchell’s River. His voice is weathered and a little cracked—a fair reflection, you might think, of a chequered past that has included prolonged bouts of drink and drug abuse.

After the career highpoint of an Oscar nomination in 1992 for his portrayal of Charlie Chaplin in Richard Attenborough’s biopic, Downey Jr hit rock bottom in 1997 when he was sentenced to three years in prison for violating probation on a 1996 drug conviction (stopped for speeding, he was found in possession of cocaine, heroin and an unregistered gun). Released after 180 days, Downey Jr’s public rehabilitation has sometimes been wobbly but now relatively little is expected of the once-hyped actor, he seems increasingly playful and relaxed. His next acting gig is working on George Clooney’s second film as director, but the 40-year-old also found the time to record a full-length album, The Futurist, a wistful, wordy record with a warm and jazzy feel. He’s always been into music, so we asked him to tell us about the songs and artists that mean something to him: the soundtrack of an eventful life.

Growing Up in New York
“When I was a kid in New York in the late 1970s, the Sex Pistols were pretty big but you have to understand, I was kind of a square. I was into Journey and I really dug Genesis. When I got my first Walkman, I was listening to Phil Collins, and he’s still kind of important to me. Early Van Halen was also pretty impactful. So I was a late bloomer with a bunch of music. In 1983, The Police released Synchronicity and Costello released Imperial Bedroom and I thought, well, The Police are a lot cooler than Elvis Costello. But my cool friends were saying to me, ‘Duh. The Police have been over since Zenyatta Mondatta in 1980 and Costello has just made one of the 10 great albums in history.’ But I just wanted to listen to The Police. I didn’t really understand Elvis Costello until the mid-1990s. Back in New York, I’d ask, ‘Who’s playing the stadiums?’ And then go see them. I was such a nerd.”

Moving to Hollywood
“I arrived in L.A. in 1985, and it was that time when music was getting more produced and fabulous. CDs were just starting to make sense. I was way into Rush, I couldn’t believe Neil Peart’s drum solos and loved the weird time signatures. I got my first stereo system in L.A. and, when I was working with Marek Kanievska [the British director of Less Than Zero], I tried to play him their album Permanent Waves and he recoiled. It was so offensive to his sensibilities that I’d thrown a Rush album on!

“There was also a lot of spandex around. I hesitate to fully admit how androgynous and freaky things were getting. I loved Duran Duran; I know a couple of those guys and they’re coming back around now. But I remember going shopping in the mid-1980s and it was very unclear where the men’s section finished and women’s section started. Last Halloween, me and my friend Josh, who’s a big promoter over here, we went to a party as droogs from A Clockwork Orange with the bowler hats and jumpsuits, and we realised it wasn’t all that different to how we used to go out in the 1980s. The guys and the gals would both take the same amount of time getting ready, putting on make-up. I mean, I was a pretty straight-shooter but it was funny when you looked in the mirror and suddenly realised you were wearing a shirt with a lace collar on it.”

Movies and Music
“Music has sometimes been important to my acting, but most of it has been quite obscure. I was pretty into Debussy when I was doing Chaplin because I thought there was some sacred geometric rhythms coming out of the music. But I was pretty off my rocker; I was doing everything I could to get in to a zone that would loosen up this really tough gig. After work, I’d listen to Tom Petty and pretend that I didn’t have anything to worry about.

“On The Futurist, I’ve covered Smile, which Charlie Chaplin wrote. At the time of the Chaplin movie, I actually recorded a different version, a real low-production value version that was pretty wild. So I’m just glad the Chaplin estate let me cover it again after that abortion of the first one.

“When we were making Natural Born Killers, Oliver Stone kept playing loud industrial music all the time on the set. The only respite would be toward the end of the day when he’d put some Leonard Cohen on. The rest of the time, it was pandemonium. I’m talking about music that was so loud you couldn’t hear the special effects guy telling you how many blank rounds were chambered in your Glock.”

Jailhouse Rock
“You’re allowed to listen to music in jail, as long as you use headphones. I had some CDs sent to me when I was inside, but the one that was released when I was doing time was Sting’s album Brand New Day. I derived a lot of comfort from that. It was kinda ironic, though, to be singing along to Brand New Day when every brand new day you were still in the pen: [sings] ‘You walk the yard and watch your back / Better not drop the soap today.’

“What did I listen to when I was at my lowest point? To be honest? I can’t remember. Nothing comes to mind. I was that fucked up. But for happy times, I’ll still dig out some Van Halen. These days, I’m pretty versatile at a party: I could be the lead singer for your band and then drive you home afterwards.”

The Futurist
“I recorded the album with some friends and it just all seemed quite natural. Some of the songs sound more produced than others, but I’m happy with it. Was I worried that people would read too much into the lyrics? Well, that would be my inclination with any record that I hear. Some of the lyrics might have originated from a period of heartbreak, but when I actually wrote songs like Broken and Details, it’s really more about characters.

“I’m not quite narcissistic enough to think people would be dying to hear songs about me and my heart and my trip to Guatemala. I’d rather hear a story than hear someone’s freakin’ travelogue about themselves. But if I’d written a song called Dope Fiend Goes to the Pen, I guess people could legitimately read something into that.”