Darius Rucker says Hootie & the Blowfish bandmates tried to 'outparty' each other: 'That was just how we lived'
"I don't think I would have done anything different — but I'm glad all four of us got through it," Rucker tells Yahoo Entertainment.
Darius Rucker has stories — whether they’re wild tales about Hootie & the Blowfish in the early days or a near-death experience swimming with Woody Harrelson.
Nearly 30 years after his college rock band broke through with its debut album Cracked Rear View, one of the top-selling records of all time, and 15 years after going country, Rucker reflects on his journey to today — both the music and the misadventures — in his memoir, Life’s Too Short, which is out now.
“I've lived a lot of life,” Rucker tells Yahoo Entertainment about why the timing is right, at 58, to share his reflections. Plus, “The kids are old enough,” referring to his now-adult children — Carolyn, Daniella and Jack.
There’s nothing in the memoir he hadn’t already told them, he says, but Rucker wades deep into his drug and alcohol use in the Hootie days.
In the book, he writes, “The party never stops. Whatever you got” — including cocaine, mushrooms and ecstasy — “I’m in.” They partake “day, evening, night, into the next day.”
Hootie bandmates tried to ‘outparty’ each other
Rucker detailed being drunk at the 1996 Grammys — when Hootie won Best New Artist and Best Pop Performance by a Group — and “comatose and curled up” when he was to perform at a Bill Clinton fundraiser.
He wrote about a roadie, who previously worked with the Rolling Stones in their heyday, saying he’d never met a band that partied as hard as Hootie. Rucker also recalled telling bandmate Dean Felber: “We should be dead.”
“That was such a different time,” Rucker says. “That's like 20 years ago, probably a little more, when I stopped all that,” referring to using hard drugs. “I learned that I was just chasing happiness and wasn't happy. I was trying to find it through those avenues — and I found out you can't.”
The partying became a routine they got stuck in, he says. “That was just how we lived — like five o'clock somebody brought me a bottle of Jim Beam. It was just what we did until we weren't doing it anymore.”
He adds, “I look back on that [era] with fond memories — I don't think I would have done anything different — but I'm glad all four of us got through it.” (Rucker was arrested in February for possession of marijuana and psilocin pills stemming from an incident in 2023. On the Today show on May 28, he said his arrest “is what it is,” explaining that a friend who was in the process of moving gave him “some stuff,” because they couldn’t fly with it. “My lawyers are taking care of it.”)
After the group’s 2005 album, they collectively decided to pause making new music while remaining friends and philanthropic partners. In 2019, they came back together for Imperfect Circle. This summer, they’re back together for a tour. It will be decidedly more mellow.
“Back in the day, it was four of us on the bus trying to see who could outparty the other one,” Rucker says. “Now It's like, everybody's got their own bus with their family on the road. It's a totally different animal now.”
It could also be their last hurrah as far as tours go. “We don't want to be that band that says it's the last one and then comes back, but I don't know if we'll ever do it again,” he says.
They’ll be on the road as Cracked Rear View turns 30 in July.
“I listened to it a few weeks ago and I think it still sounds great,” he says of the album, which includes “Hold My Hand,” “Only Wanna Be With You” and “Let Her Cry.” “To have a record that's one of the best-selling records of all time is something that you don't even dream about. Being a part of that is amazing. And it still sells. It just went to 22 [million]. It's great to see that record stand the test of time.”
“It was not her, it was all me,” he says of failed marriage
The Charleston, S.C., native writes in his memoir about how being thrust into the spotlight when Hootie blew up in 1994 — after making their TV debut on Late Show With David Letterman — was difficult to navigate. His beloved mom, Carolyn, had died suddenly in 1992 and, amid fame, his estranged dad resurfaced looking for money. He also learned more than once that he couldn’t trust his drug-addicted brother.
Sharing these stories publicly was both therapeutic and hard, Rucker says. So was “telling the real story of how bad of a husband I was,” he admits.
In the book, in which there’s a chapter titled “Beth,” he credits ex-wife Beth Leonard for not just raising their children but saving his life. “I wanted the whole world to know how awesome of a human being she is and how it was not her, it was all me” that frayed the marriage.
A positive in his life was transitioning to country music in 2008. He was a life-long fan, but never thought he’d be able to cross over to the genre.
“When I first decided to do it, I didn't think I could get a record deal,” he says. “That's not an exaggeration. First of all, they hate pop guys coming over to go to country music, and second of all, I'm the Black guy. Who's going to give me a record deal?”
Rucker detailed in his book how his persuasive manager, Doc McGhee, who also guided the careers of Bon Jovi and Kiss, convinced the then president of Capitol Records Nashville Mike Dungan into giving Rucker a record deal — without identifying who he would even be signing.
“Not only did I get a record deal, but one with Capitol, which had the best president in the business at the time, who just believed in me,” Rucker says. “One of the best things anybody ever said to me was when Mike Dungan said: ‘I never got that Hootie thing, but I always thought you were a country singer.’ I didn’t think I'd have the success I’ve had.”
The “Wagon Wheel” singer has since had four albums debut at No. 1 on the country charts, was inducted into the Grand Ole Opry in 2012 and won the Grammy for Best Country Solo Performance in 2014.
“I just like to keep playing music,” he says of his future professional goals. “I love going out on tour. The stuff that we can't control, I don't even let myself think about — like the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. Sure we'd love to [be inducted]. I’d love to make the ballot once. All I want to do at this point — I've been on the big stage for 30 years — is to keep playing music as long as people want to keep coming to see me play.”
