For “Routine Excellence,” GQ asks creative, successful people about the practices and habits that get them through their day.
On any given day, Zane Lowe is making music, listening to music, sharing music, or talking about music. As Apple Music’s global creative director and co-head of artist relations, he’s at the center of the music universe—a position whose respect among musicians is reflected in the soul-bearing and unusually candid conversations artists like Harry Styles, Lizzo, and Post Malone have granted him on The Zane Lowe Show. Before coming to Apple Music in 2015, he was at BBC Radio 1 for more than a decade, and has spent more than three decades making music. In other words, the 49-year-old has a lot to do, and has spent a lot of time thinking about—and talking to other wildly successful people about—the creative process, mental health, and how to get it all done.
GQ: On any given day, what are the activities or practices that you consider non-negotiable, that must happen every day?
Zane Lowe: Exercise has become non-negotiable. I’ve always had a begrudging relationship with exercise. I felt like I needed it, but I never really wanted it, because I was focusing on exercise as physical self-improvement. Once I made the discovery that exercise was far better for me mentally, and that the physical would follow, it changed the whole outlook for me. I started to recognize the difference in myself when I did it versus when I didn't do it, and I didn't want to live my life without it. I ride the bike, I do jump rope, I do some free weight work, yoga, and I do shadow boxing. All of those are centered around allowing me to be in the moment and not getting caught up in that never-ending loop of whatever requires my attention. Exercise demands my attention—and that is very good for me.
How does focusing on the mental instead of the physical change your approach to the workout?
If you don't recognize why you're really truly doing the exercise, it's just another test. That’s the way I used to relate to it when I was younger. I would fail that test and I would turn my back on exercise cause I didn't like the feeling of failure. I wasn't good enough. [When I started focusing on the mental,] the metric of value became something different. It was “how do you feel” versus “how do you look”? It became about how I was spending my time versus how much weight I was lifting, or how far I was running. When I was doing that, I would never live up to my own expectations. When I do it for my inner self, there's less risk of failure. Sometimes I'll just do a 10-minute yoga session, which, if I was doing that for my physical well being, would barely scratch the surface. But what I get mentally out of it is really useful.
What's the first thing you do every morning and the last thing you do at night?
The first thing I do every morning now is drink water. I'll have like 10 or 12 large mouthfuls. I don't know if this is factual, but I imagine that it's clearing out whatever is leftover from sleep. I don't go for my phone straight away. I have to consciously do that and just let it be and allow myself the time just to lie. It may be for a minute, it may be for five minutes, maybe for 10. I'm probably 25-30 steps away from coffee and I take those steps, and I start with family, with my wife, with the dog. For me, it’s really just trying to have a human experience in the morning, rather than just waking up and getting straight into the work. What’s most important is that there are really beautiful, living, breathing creatures in my house, and I really want to connect with them.
Do you have any hard and fast rules around when and how you'll use social media?
I tried hard and fast rules. It’s not realistic for me. I recognize the signs now of when I need to put the phone down. Also, socially, if I go to a restaurant and I'm waiting for somebody, or even if I'm in the car, waiting for my kids to come out of school, I set myself a task of not drawing on my phone to distract me. It's just small tasks that I set for myself rather than grand sweeping rules.
You spend your day job talking to some of the most interesting creative people on the planet. What is something you've picked up that you find yourself thinking about a lot?
The one thing on my mind right now is the importance and the art of execution. Because I think everybody on this planet is a creative spirit and thinks about things creatively, or allows themselves to twist or change the shape of something—but we don't execute on it. So what drives the artist to want to execute on that vision rather than just let it be a thought? There are people who probably didn't make the best art when they first started, but they put it out and they got better and better.
Legacy's a funny thing. It changes shape. Over time, your worst album can become your best. That only happens if you continue to execute and be in that moment and not be beholden to what you did before, or what has yet to happen. One of the many definitions of anxiety is that you spend a lot of time either in what has happened or a lot of time in what has yet to happen. I think that's the enemy of execution. I'm fascinated by the people who stay in the moment as much as possible and trust that moment and let it all play out in the long run. The things I think are gonna work, often don't—and the things that I think are just throw away often work. The only thing that you can ultimately control—although I don't like that word necessary as I get older—is whether or not you actually put it out there.
Since you brought up control—what has doing interviews for so long taught you about control, and letting go of control?
Early in the process, my instinct was to try to control the environment. A lot of times, I was trying to protect the subject or trying to deviate away from awkwardness or comfortability. There were a lot of reasons why I was getting in between what was happening naturally and trying to guide it in a different direction. I went and I spoke to a performance coach who hyper focuses on communication. The first thing she said to me was, “You don't really let silence happen, huh? You're not a fan of silence.” It all made sense. So I started to just let it happen. And then what that unlocked, in being unafraid of the silence and unafraid of where the conversation can go, I started to listen very differently. Then I started to do away with architecture altogether. I would allow myself to listen to the music, and then just begin and trust that every question I need is in the answer that came before it.
When you travel, is there something you do, or a habit you have, to help keep you consistent?
Well, I have OCD and I'm pretty open about that. It really comes out with my traveling. I always used to be a bad flier and used to get nervous, but I've learned to really enjoy it. Talk to me the night before a long haul flight and I'm like a kid. What documentary am I going to watch?! Is there a new 30 for 30?! What music am I gonna listen to? I really don't take it for granted. I also think you've just gotta respect the process. It's taxing on the body. It's taxing on the mind. It separates you from your routine and it requires a lot of you in a short amount of time. Just being aware of that allows you the time to mentally prepare. Cause I never did, I just threw myself into it, then I'd come back and wonder why I had a stress disorder.
What is your process of consuming new music?
When I was working at the BBC, a lot of the time music was distributed in demo form and big mail sacks, and that felt like work. You want to take it seriously, to be respectful of the time it’s taken to share those. But after a while it's like, I don't even know what my taste is anymore. So I started to take some control back in that moment about how I actually appreciated and enjoyed music. I leaned into other people—my friends, colleagues, people whose taste I admired—and created this pace where it was safe to be able to say, this is really good, check it out. Once I did that, things just started to arrive in the right order. I just trusted the process. And then I was able to reconnect with being a fan again. Now I listen to the car, at home, at work, on my phone when I'm walking down the street, on planes. I make playlists, I share playlists. I get playlists. It’s this constant flow of music in my life. It doesn't feel like a job and it doesn't feel like I have to make time to listen to it.
That’s the other thing in my morning routine. Once I've had the water, I take a look at the agenda of who's coming in the studio that day. Even if I've heard the album in advance, I start listening to the music again. It's one of the first things I do: go straight to music that I'm about to talk to somebody about. I get familiar with it straight away in the morning when my mind is fresh and my ears open to what the artist is trying to say, I'm just not distracted by what's gone on through the day. I'm not tired. I'm not exhausted. I'm not fast forwarding it. I'm into it.
If you could go back 10 years, what's something you'd spend less time on, and something you'd spend more time on?
If you'd asked me 20 years, you're talking about somebody who probably wishes he'd spent more time making music and less time kind of avoiding that part of my life. Being more proactively creative. But 10 years ago, I was trying to figure that out. I was getting back in the studio again, I was writing and recording with people. I was making music. So I can't really say I wish that I'd done more of anything then, because I was starting to order things the right way. If you're talking about over the course of my life, there's always gonna be a little part of me that wishes I'd been a bit more committed to the creative process rather than perfecting it.
If you wait for perfection, you never put anything out. You're constantly gonna be trying to perfect. I'm in that right now. I've been working on something for a few years, and we were close and then we weren't, and then we were, and we weren't, and I'm still doing that. And it's taking another artist friend of mine who texts me every day like, where's the music? It's awesome that he's doing that. He genuinely wants to hear it and because he's like, dude, I know you, you're not gonna finish. It's just a fear mechanism for me and I don't wanna be afraid. I just don't wanna be afraid anymore. My gosh, I can't waste any more time with that word.
This interview was edited and condensed.
