“Not everything that happens happens for a reason, but everything that survives survives for a reason.”
Nassim Taleb
“Everything I’ve Known” was the fourth and final single from Korn‘s sixth album, Take a Look in the Mirror. Released in April of 2004, it was the album’s least popular single. An animated music video, directed by Gregory Ecklund, received minor airplay on MTV2.
“It’s about feeling like you’ve lost everything,” Jonathan Davis explained to MTV News. “I was having problems with my girl, problems with my family, problems businesswise — not problems within the band internally, but things going on outside. I just felt like I was losing everything I’d known around me, because basically, I am. I mean, me and my girl made up and everything’s fine, but the music business is dying.”
Davis’ reaction to the decline in the music industry in this song was an emotional one, in contrast to the tongue-in-cheek nature of “Y’All Want a Single.” Sales were down, and he could see that record labels couldn’t keep dumping millions of dollars into making an album and filming a music video. And given the price of a CD, he didn’t blame kids for downloading songs for a fraction of the cost, or for free. However, while the old model had to go, Davis wasn’t sure what would take its place. “That’s a big, scary jump for us, and we’ve got to think of different ways to do this,” he said.
The band were getting ready to release their greatest hits compilation later that year, which would complete their seven-album deal with Epic Records. After that, there was no knowing where they’d go. Davis entertained the thought of Korn distributing their music on their own, through the internet. Former proteges Orgy were releasing new music on their own label after leaving Warner, and Davis was impressed with their DIY ethic. Unfortunately, that wouldn’t quite work with a multiplatinum-selling operation like Korn. They simply didn’t have the infrastructure to make it happen. “I feel so enslaved,” Davis sings. “Fuck my pride.”
Declining sales and ends of contracts made up part of Davis’s worries, but then there were other problems. In early 2004, it was reported that Davis had signed Sacramento band The Drama to his label, Elementree Records, and had produced their then-upcoming debut. They seemed like a cool band to work with. However, he spoke of wanting to help them avoid the mental traps and fallacies commonly associated with being in a signed band. Namely, hopes of any money from album sales. Instead, he hoped to get them focused getting to work, touring and selling merch. He knew, since he’d been there with Korn. “We never made money on our records”, he said. “That’s the biggest scam in the world.”
For whatever reason, the deal between Elementree and The Drama ended up not happening, and the band released no album or EP as far as anyone knows. The song “My Only Escape” was featured on the Suicide Girls: Summer Camp DVD, and can be found floating around on YouTube (the band also went by the name Dust and Blood for a time). Other than that, nothing. Which is a shame, because if that one track is anything to go by, then The Drama could have been amazing. I’m sure Davis wanted them to get a fair shot, but for whatever reason, it didn’t happen.
Losing everything you’ve known, as Davis said back then. Everything, or just losing something fundamental. These losses can be self-inflicted, or come at the hands of some external force. They can be the result of blind spots in how we perceive ourselves or the world around us.
Hopefully, such instances can serves as a flashpoint, the beginning of personal growth and improvement. Hopefully. “Hitting bottom,” as Tyler Durden said in Fight Club. This was the case in 312 BC for a merchant named Zeno, when his ship sank en route to Peiraeus. He survived, but his cargo — Tyrian purple dye, highly expensive and sought after — was lost. He ended up in Athens, and after finding the works of Socrates, he met the Cynic philosopher Crates. To say that this was a learning experience would be an understatement — Zeno became one of the philosophers that founded what we now know as Stoicism, teaching pupils of his own, who in turn would go on to influence others. In the Lives and Opinions of Eminent Philosophers, the biographer Diogenes Laertius quotes Zeno as saying, “I suffered a most prosperous voyage when I suffered that shipwreck.”
You will find that this is a common thread with Stoicism — those who have lost something or gone through some great upheaval at some point in their lives, and used this experience to grow stronger. Seneca is one of the most famous examples, and his Consolations consist of three letters he wrote to as many friends while in exile. After being charged with adultery, Seneca was exiled to Corsica. Writing to his mother, he thought of his exile as a “change of pace” and encouraged her not to mourn his absence. He’s consistent here, since Stoicism is largely based on the idea that one should not be disturbed by events beyond their control. “I am joyous and cheerful, as if under the best of circumstances,” he wrote. “And indeed, now they are the best, since my spirit, devoid of all other preoccupations, has room for its own activities, and either delights in easier studies or rises up eager for the truth, to the consideration of its own nature as well as that of the universe…” He almost seems happy about his life in exile, or at least he tolerates it.
Other letters exhibit the same ideal, that of living one’s life in peace without mourning, even while Seneca shows sympathy for what they’re feeling. Acknowledgement, and then his proposed way forward. This is the difference between Stoicism and stoicism. The former being the acceptance of what’s beyond one’s control, while the latter is simply the cliche of suppressing one’s emotions for no reason other than the appearance of mental toughness (for more on this, see Jordan Peterson and other salesmen).
Seneca’s philosophy has not only endured, it informs people of all walks of life. In 2016, Gawker Media founder Nick Denton lost his entire publishing empire after a staggering verdict in a Florida courthouse. When Ryan Holiday met Denton in his Manhattan loft, he spotted a copy of Seneca’s works. “Seneca is the author you read when your life’s work has been destroyed, as Denton’s undeniably has,” Holiday writes in Conspiracy. “Over the last few years, he has gone from owning one of the most valuable independent websites in the world to being on the wrong side of a $140 million judgement.” What do you do in that situation? I honestly don’t know, but Denton at least managed to find some kind of solace. “He’d come to have a certain fatalism about it, that if the end had not come here, it would have come soon enough elsewhere.” Holiday would also describe Denton as “more introspective, fairer, more compassionate.”
My experience would be walking away from my last job, feeling like I had hit a wall. With staff shortages, resources dwindling, and morale at an all-time low, every day was simply a “maintenance day” as they called it, which to me equalled regression. I could have luxuriated in resentment of this situation, of the place and the people, but I couldn’t. So, I acknowledged my limitations in my role, learned from the experience, and moved on.
Really, we all lose something at some point in our lives. Relationships and friendships that have run their course. You’ve known each other for a long time and things just aren’t working anymore. The loss of a family member, or a loved one, anything important.
All of this calls to mind another quote from Fight Club — “It’s only after you’ve lost everything that you’re free to do anything.” Which is objectively true, but personally, I hope that this isn’t always the case, that people can just plod along and learn as they go. It would be nicer that way, but life’s not that simple.
I wonder what someone like Zeno or Seneca would say to Jonathan Davis or myself, or anyone feeling the sting of loss or uncertainty. It would be an interesting (if not bizarre) series of dialogues for sure. And, I’d be interested to know what Davis and the rest of Korn think of the music industry today. As I’ve said elsewhere, some things are better for artists, while in other ways, things have gotten worse. Trent Reznor — the principal artist of Nine Inch Nails and one of Korn’s greatest influences — has recently made music news, saying that streaming services have “mortally wounded a whole tier of artists that make being an artist unsustainable.” Referring to the payment terms of these services, including Apple Music and Spotify, he continued, “And it’s great if you’re Drake, and it’s not great if you’re Grizzly Bear. And the reality is: Take a look around. We’ve had enough time for the whole ‘All the boats rise’ argument to see they don’t all rise. Those boats rise. These boats don’t. They can’t make money in any means. And I think that’s bad for art.”
I don’t know what the solution to all of this would be, or what might be built in the future, but I imagine artists and consumers will play a key role in creating any meaningful, lasting change. It won’t be a weekend retreat or a seminar, that’s for fucking sure.
Declining industries, relationships deteriorating, boats not rising, projects fizzling out, shipwrecks, exile, stagnation… you name it, people throughout history have lost something fundamental. Losing everything in situations so far out of their control that one can’t help but feel crushed by the weight of it all. There are those who don’t bounce back; things need to be in place for that to happen. It’s always worth keeping that in mind.
And yet, there are those who get back up and keep moving, putting their time and experience to good use. Personally, I see it as feedback. Which sucks in the moment, but works for me in the long term.