MARCUS KING
Blues prodigy Marcus King has overcome his demons with the help of famed producer Rick Rubin. And his new album is a powerful statement: “It’s about letting the guitar speak for itself…”
Born into a family of musicians in Greenville, South Carolina, Marcus King started out on his journey at an astonishingly young age. He first picked up the guitar when he was just three years old, and at eight he had already performed on stage. At the tender age of 11 he made his first studio recording, setting the foundation for his future career.
Following in the footsteps of his father and grandfather, King continued to hone his craft. With The Marcus King Band, he established himself as a formidable live performer, with incendiary jam sets sealing his reputation as a guitarist of the highest stature. His first solo album, 2020’s El Dorado, was produced by Dan Auerbach of The Black Keys and earned him aGrammy nomination for Best Americana Album.
However, behind the success and accolades, King was struggling with personal demons that threatened to consume him, and in 2022 he found himself on the brink of self-destruction. Achance encounter with Rick Rubin set him on a path to redemption and self-discovery, resulting in is his latest album, MoodSwings. This is a set of deeply personal and emotionally charged songs that showcase his immense talent as a singer, songwriter and guitarist. The album marks a turning point in King’s life and career, as he confronts his battles with addiction, mental health, and heartache head-on.
Speaking to TG, Marcus discusses the making of MoodSwings and how he channelled his pain and struggles into a cathartic collection of songs…
For this new album, you worked with producer Rick Rubin at his Shangri La studios in Malibu. How did that bring out a different side to your music?
Rick’s really big into making music and art for the right reasons, and for yourself. It took a while for us to nd the real truth, I had to dig deeper and deeper, and he managed to help me access that within myself. I’ve always used mental health like a writing partner, as Rick would say. But on this record, for the rst time I’ve stripped away some of the metaphors and spoken directly about it. It’s de nitely therapeutic, once you pull back the heavy rock ’n’ roll guitar and allow the songs to stand on their own. It’s a very vulnerable place and there’s not much to hide behind in the way of production, and that’s given me a new perspective. It’s knowing when not to play, to allow the spaces in between to speak louder than the notes themselves.
This time around, did you change a
