All language subtitles for Moby Doc (2021) [1080p] [WEBRip] [5.1] [YTS.MX]

Downloaded from
YTS.MX

[wind howling]

Official YIFY movies site:
YTS.MX

[birds twittering]

[sounds growing louder]

[soft static buzzing]

[video equipment clattering]

So you might wonder
why I just clapped,

uh...

because I'm sitting
in my studio by myself

and am I,

am I applauding myself?

[electronica playing]

I guess a good place to start
is a simple question.

Why in the world

would I want to make
a documentary about myself?

And I think that's a pretty
legitimate question.

[upbeat electronica playing]

Thank you, thank you, thank you,
thank you, thank you, thank you.

Thank you, thank you, thank you,
thank you, thank you, thank you!

On one hand,
I've had a strange life.

I grew up very poor in
a very wealthy environment.

My strange life as a musician
has taken me

to a lot of very odd places,
literally and figuratively.

And I guess I could make
a documentary about that.

Just another biopic
about a weird musician.

What's more interesting is,
at least to me, is...

well, the why of it.

The why of everything.

The, why do we do what we do?

Our very short lives

quite possibly have
very little significance.

As far as we can tell, we're
in a universe that is vast

beyond our imagining,

ancient beyond our imagining.

But yet, all of us
generally work from a place

where we think that
our actions have meaning,

our lives have consequences.

And that if we do things
in a certain way,

if we do things in a right way,

that our lives
might somehow be better.

If I had legitimacy,
if I had some money,

if I was recognized
for what I did

and for who I was,
and if I was esteemed...

One of the most innovative
figures in the world of
electronic dance music, Moby.

...happiness,
and meaning would ensue.

And honestly, that's why
I want to make this movie,

because I think that a lot of us

still work
under those assumptions,

that if we do the right thing,

if we have the right
existential portfolio,

if we have the right people,
the right amount of money,

the right home or homes,

the right job,
the right amount of recognition,

then everything
will suddenly make sense

and we'll be happy
and we'll live for a long time

and we will die contented.

There's one huge problem
with that, though.

That's never actually been
the case for anyone.

It's almost like we assume
that it's not true
for everyone else,

but that if we figure it out,
like if I figure out my perfect
existential portfolio,

that I will find
perfect human happiness,

but I tried, and it didn't work.

[ethereal electronica playing]

This is my dream.

[ambient electronica pulsing]

[upbeat electronica playing]

- [music stops]
- [cow lowing in distance]

So we're revisiting

New York City in 1966.

So yes, I was born in Harlem.

Let's make it nighttime.

Rrrrr... There's New York City.

- [horns honking]
- Rrrr, rrrr!

My dad, we'll have him
wearing glasses

because the truth is, I don't
remember my father at all,

but in my mind he wore glasses,

and unlike me, he had hair.

My mom, because I'm not
the best drawer in the world,

I have a feeling she's
going to look...

Oh, she actually looks
almost feminine, maybe.

Little baby me.

We also need some animals.

When I was growing up in Harlem
we had a pet dog,

one or two cats,
and a bunch of rats,

because my father was,

he worked in the chemistry
department at Columbia

and he brought home
some test rats.

They were in their twenties.

They were in New York,
and they hung out in the Village

and talked about poetry
and politics.

And they had me,

and then very quickly
realized like,

"Oh, having a newborn in
a basement apartment in Harlem."

And my dad had been
a heavy drinker apparently,

but then apparently he started
drinking more and more and more,

- and my mom yelling...
- Get out of my house!

- ...him yelling back...
- Yaaaaaa!

And then him disappearing
on drunken binges.

So because I lived
with two very angry parents

who were screaming at each other
and smoking cigarettes
and drinking,

the only calm sort of stable
presence in the apartment

were the animals.

The cat, the dog,
the rescued lab rats,

represented here by chihuahuas.

At an early age, when I was
a tiny little baby,

I learned a lesson, which is
that animals are nice
and people are terrifying.

And then after a couple of years
of this, they had a huge fight,

and my mother told my father,
"I can't do this anymore.

I want a divorce, and I'm taking
your son away from you."

So, my father got drunk

and got in his car...

and drove into a wall...

at a hundred miles an hour.

[car crashes]

So my mother was a widow
at the age of 23

with her crying newborn,

a bunch of animals
in a basement apartment
in Harlem.

[ominous ambient music playing]

[somber electronica playing]

[marching band playing]

[music stops]

Hi.

So I'm Moby and I'm
the director of this scene

and we will be reenacting
some scenes from my childhood.

- I'd like to introduce
our players.
- [upbeat music playing]

Laura, would you step in?

This is Laura
and she'll be playing my mom.

Hi, I'm Laura Dawn
and I'm playing Moby's mom.

Daniel, would you like
to step in?

Who will be playing my mom's
scumbag boyfriend.

Hi, my name is Daniel Ahearn.

I'll be playing
the scumbag boyfriend.

And this is Daron,

and he'll be playing me
at about age, say three.

Hi, my name's Daron Murphy
and I'll be playing young Moby.

MOBY: Yeah. Perfect.
Life has already gone wrong.

You're only three years old,
and basically nothing good
has ever happened.

- You guys are
getting ready to go out.
- Let's go.

So you're a local motorcycle
gang member...

but you're just,
you're just scummy.

- Bye, Moby. We'll be back
in a couple of hours.
- Don't touch my stuff.

That was great.
The only thing was you were
a little too involved.

[laughing] OK.

- MOBY: And action.
- LAURA: All right, Moby,
we're taking off.

We're going to go out
to this party and we'll
be back later, okay?

Bye, Molly.

[in falsetto]
♪ Hello! Hello! Hello!

- Poor Moby.
- Yeah, yeah, mm-hmm.

I wish we could save him.
We'd be your friends, Moby.

- Oh yeah.
- Mm-hmm. Yeah, yeah.

- Mm-hmm.
- Yeah, yeah, yeah.

My mom is upset
because she's unemployed,
her boyfriend has left her,

and young me is going
to try to comfort her.

Nothing ever works out.

Dan left.

Again.

And I still haven't found a job.

So I don't know
what we're gonna do.

- Mom--
- Just leave me alone!

Well done.

A little more sadness.

Well, okay, no, dial it down,
just not quite so much sadness.

A little, little more,
just sort of like soft pathos.

[door creaking open]

That's okay.
No, come on in.

We're doing really
important stuff.

[in falsetto]
Oh, that's very sad.

- That's a big
apartment to me.
- Call Child Services!

His first experience,
if you think about your mother
being the center of your world,

the idea that
if you're the focal point
of someone's world

and all they know about love
and trust and stability
in the world,

but you are not stable,

then that produces
a cascade of effects
in a developing mind

that can really mess up
the rest of their lives.

He was left in places
and situations

that a kid that's three,
four or five, six years old,

should not be left in.

And there was a lot
of drug abuse.

There was a lot of alcoholism.

I think that he suffers
from anxious attachment.

When I hear
so much of his music,

I hear the pain and emotion
and longing that he feels
towards his mother.

That to me is a core dragon
he's been chasing
his entire life

as some kind of understanding
and resolution to that pain.

[indistinct conversations]

MOBY: When I was very, very
young, I grew up playing
in New York and Connecticut.

[crowd cheering]

And at that time,
like my only goal was
to at some point

put out a seven-inch that maybe
sold a hundred copies.

I never ever,
ever in a billion years

thought I would be playing
with one of the most
remarkable orchestras.

- [cheering and applause]
- So I just wanted to say
thank you all so much.

Such a beautiful orchestra.
Such a friendly orchestra.

♪ Oh, Lordy,
my trouble so hard ♪

♪ Oh, Lordy,
my trouble so hard ♪

♪ Don't nobody know
my troubles but God ♪

♪ Don't nobody know
my troubles but God ♪

♪ Oh, Lordy,
my trouble so hard ♪

♪ Oh, Lordy,
my trouble so hard ♪

♪ Well, don't nobody know
my troubles but God ♪

♪ Oh, don't nobody know
my troubles but God ♪

♪ Oh, Lordy,
my trouble so hard ♪

♪ Oh, Lordy,
my trouble so hard ♪

♪ Oh, don't nobody know
my troubles but God ♪

♪ Don't nobody know
my troubles but God ♪

♪ Oh, Lordy,
my trouble so hard ♪

♪ Oh, Lordy,
my trouble so hard ♪

♪ Don't nobody know
my troubles but God ♪

♪ Don't nobody know
my troubles but God ♪

♪ Oh, Lordy,
my trouble so hard ♪

♪ Oh, Lordy,
my trouble so hard ♪

♪ Don't nobody know
my troubles but God ♪

♪ Don't nobody know

♪ My trouble

♪ But God

[cheering and applause]

[a/v equipment clattering]

When a human being
truly dives within all the way,

negativity begins to lift away.

Hate, anger, fear,
all these things start to lift.

The suffocating
rubber clown suit
of negativity dissolving,

and pure gold
coming in from within.

[relaxed music playing]

MOBY: So for a while, we lived
in Darien, Connecticut,

which is one of the wealthiest
towns in the United States.

And I was certainly the poorest
person that I knew there.

I hated it.

Not being able to bring people
back to my house.

When I say "bring people,"
I mean like friends
in elementary school,

but as I had learned early on,
animals were safe,

and animals didn't judge me,

and I never had to feel
shame around animals.

[cattle lows]

So I'd found animals,
and then I found music.

And then I picked up a guitar
one of my Mom's boyfriends
had left at the house,

and I started playing around
and very quickly
I discovered punk rock.

[punk rock playing]

And I fell in love
with The Clash, Bad Brains,
Minor Threat, Black Flag.

And I also found a home.

I found this amazing community
of misfits and confused
teenagers like me,

and I felt comfortable
and at home for the first time,

and I just wanted to play
in a punk rock band.

And I guess that's
when I dedicated my life

to these two things,
animals and music.

[clock ticking]

I've been looking forward
to our session.

- It's good to see you again.
- Oh yeah.

Can I get you water
or a cup of tea?

[discordant
ambient sounds echoing]

I want to know more
about your feelings.

How have you been able
to process your feelings

and what you experienced as
a child through your music?

We've talked about this before
that sometimes you refer
to yourself

in the third person,

which is intellectualizing,

and I'm wondering if you can
connect to your feelings

and tell me about it
from that perspective.

Well, growing up,
I always felt uncomfortable
if I'm being honest

and I felt really
disconnected and unsafe.

I know this sounds
like hyperbole,

this sounds like I'm
overstating, but music saved me.

I felt connected to this bigger
world that was so much better

and more interesting than
the sad suburban world
I was inhabiting.

Can you just tell me
a little bit more about
how you felt about that?

I was able to like take
all of the things
that I was feeling...

and make sense of them,
and sort of make them

you know, take the fear
and make it interesting,

and take my confusion
and try to make it beautiful.

And so the act of making music
was almost like a form
of like self-healing,

but also in a way
that maybe other people

could relate to or understand.

[banjo playing]

♪ I know that we've been

♪ In a fairly conventional
narrative for a little while ♪

♪ But now we're gonna
go back to being weird ♪

[discordant ambience echoing
over traffic noises]

[bowl chimes]

Everyone chant!

- [chimes]
- [group chanting]

[bowl chiming]

[chanting continues]

[discordant noise echoing
over furtive whispers]

Someone asked me
this question recently,

if I were an animal,
what would,

or how would my consciousness
be different?

And it's
a fascinating question.

So when I look at an animal
like, like, look at buffalo.

I wonder if sometimes
one of the reasons

that people kill animals,

one of the reasons that people
treat animals so badly

is because of loneliness,

is because they look at animals
and they feel rejected by them.

You know, they look at a buffalo
and buffalo are stoic

and apparently quite happy
to just hang out
with other buffalo,

and they have their own concerns
and their own priorities.

Like the desire
to not get eaten,

the desire to not be hungry,

the desire to spend time
with your family,
with your community.

But sometimes nature has
an indifference towards humans.

And the animals, like let's say
like a buffalo, they don't care.

And I think sometimes
that almost justifies

people's cruelty to animals,

is they're punishing the animals

for having their own lives
independent of us.

The animal is almost like

an emissary of
the vast existential void

that we're all so afraid of.

[static buzzing]

♪ 'Cause in my dreams
I'm dying all the time ♪

♪ Then I wake
it's kaleidoscopic mind ♪

♪ I never meant to hurt you

♪ I never meant to lie

♪ So this is goodbye

♪ This is goodbye

♪ So tell the truth

♪ You never wanted me

♪ Tell the truth

♪ You never wanted me

♪ Tell me

♪ 'Cause in my dreams
I'm jealous all the time ♪

♪ When I wake
I'm going out of my mind ♪

♪ I'm going out of my mind

♪ Going out of my mind

♪ Going out of my mind

[ominous music playing]

My friend gave me some acid.

And I thought this
was really interesting,

'cause I'd never
done acid before

and it lasted
for about 15 hours.

And then a day later
I had a panic attack,

and the panic attack lasted
for about six months.

It was so bad that I had to drop
out of school and moved home

back to my mom's house,
and it was really grim.

19 years old, unemployed, broke,
battling constant panic attacks,

going to my local bar,
getting drunk with alcoholics

just 'cause
that was the only thing
that would make the panic abate.

When friends from college
would drop me off...

[sighs]

...I would have them
drop me off here,

and for a brief minute, I would
pretend that I lived here.

Everybody I knew who grew up
like the rich people here

just felt entitled
and were kind of arrogant
and obnoxious,

but anyone who grew up
even slightly poor here,

you just felt this like stain
of inadequacy

because everybody knew exactly
how much money
everyone else had.

No matter where you went,
you just always felt,

if you're poor growing up here,
you just always felt like
a second-class citizen.

In my case,
like an 11th-class citizen.

That was my fantasy
when I was growing up,

to live in a house
like this and drink tea
and sit by a roaring fire,

and read Blake

while the golden retriever
was asleep at my feet

and my beautiful wife was,
I don't know,

writing poetry at her desk
by the leaded window panes.

And then I moved
to an abandoned factory.

[discordant electronica playing]

This huge, weird
factory complex,

I mean millions
and millions of square feet.

It had been a lock factory
in Stamford, Connecticut.

But when I moved in,
it was completely empty
and I paid $50 a month.

What I thought of
as squatter's rent.

There was a security guard,
and I'd give them $50 a month,

and I didn't have running water,
I didn't have heat,

but I had electricity.

And so I had my studio
and it, my space was tiny.

I mean, so tiny,
it was basically like
a big glorified closet.

And I worked on music.

I was DJing
just a couple days a week.

$25 to DJ for six hours.

And this whole huge factory
building was empty,

except for me
and like a few other artists
who are squatting in it.

The two years I lived here,
I think three people
got murdered.

My friend Jamie
got stabbed to death here.

I loved it, because I had free
electricity and my space,

even though it was
very small, was sunny
and I didn't have heat,

but I had space heaters
that I borrowed
from my girlfriend's mom.

Now, Moby, did you grow up
in your punk rock days,

did you live in factories?

As a matter of fact, I did.

Um, but old factories,
the desolation

and like the entropy of them,

'cause they're such
sturdy structures.

Normally things when they're
abandoned collapse,

but what's great about factories
is they're abandoned
and they stick around,

you know, and the bricks become
interesting and the floors
get dusty and interesting.

And especially when the old
machinery is too heavy
to move, you know?

So they're just like,
we're just going to leave it.

- You're talking my type.
- [laughs]

[electronica playing]

And that's when I started making

my own almost exclusively
electronic music.

And then I started working
at a record store,

so I was able to buy
more records and DJ more.

And then I started DJing Friday
nights and Saturday nights.

And then there was
this magic day when I learned
how to mix two records together.

And all of a sudden I realized
like, "Oh, that sounded okay."

Like, "I guess I'm a DJ now."

I had the worst sampler
in the world and a little
four-track,

and so I made my idea
of what hip-hop
should sound like

and my idea
of what house music
and techno should be.

I mean, keep in mind,
house music had just
been invented

and techno had
just been invented,

but with my little
Casio keyboard

and my cheap Roland drum machine
and my little sequencer,

I tried to make electronic music

and I had no idea what was
going on with me

or my life or my future,
but I had some really
good friends,

and I was surprisingly happy.

And I remember trying to explain
that to my family,

how in hindsight it was
one of the happiest times
of my life.

[electronica continues]

[wind whistling]

[electronic
ambient music surging]

- [music fades, resumes]
- [wind howling]

- [in falsetto] Ah!
- Run for your lives!

Let's go to space!

[upbeat electronica playing]

There, 205 East 14th Street,

that was my first apartment
in New York City.

Uh...

And I'm pretty sure,
I had a bunch of roommates,

but my rent was around $150
a month, $160 a month.

Growing up in Connecticut,
I fetishized New York City.

New York was 30,
40 miles away,

and it was easy
to get to on the train.

And so my friends and I
growing up went to New York
every chance we could.

It's where the best record
stores were, it's where we saw
all our first punk rock shows.

And we were amazed
that we could just get
on the train

and hide in the bathroom
and 40 minutes later
be in Grand Central.

Not to overstate it,
but this train saved my life
and made me who I am.

I would make the tapes
in my abandoned factory,

get off in Grand Central,
jump the turnstile, and then
just go around giving out tapes.

Years of doing this.

My first record label
came from that,

other DJing jobs came from that,
being introduced to all
the producers of the day.

I heard about this club called
Mars that was opening.

It was going to be
the coolest nightclub
in the world.

Somehow the man
who was booking Mars

listened to it
and gave me a job.

My first record label
came from that,

so it all started
with that one job at Mars.

♪ Go, go, go...

♪ Well, I came here to rock,
turn it on and on ♪

♪ Keep it going
till the break of dawn ♪

[funky electronica playing]

♪ Yeah!

[cheering]

[muffled shouting
over rhythmic percussion]

In 1990, I put out
a song called "Go."

And this came out
and did nothing.

It sold maybe 1500 copies.

And then after it was released,

a record label guy in the UK
heard it

and wanted to release it,
but needed a remix.

And at this time I was obsessed
with Twin Peaks,

and somehow
I had this weird idea

of adding the strings
from Laura Palmer's theme
from Twin Peaks

to this remix
I was working on for "Go."

So I came up with this remix,

and then I played the chords
to Laura Palmer's theme

on top of the remix.

DAVID LYNCH: Yes. Well, Moby
did that song "Go,"

and that was based on pieces
of Angelo's music
in Twin Peaks.

I thought it was fantastic,
and a lot of other people
thought that too.

♪ Go!

And it became a top-ten record
throughout Europe
and it sold a million copies.

♪ Go!

So my first single
sold 1500 copies,

and my next single sold
a million copies.

That's a big turning point,

and it was so profoundly
unexpected.

So the fact that it became
this weird, weird hit single,

where I was going back and forth
to the UK every two weeks
and DJing in raves

and playing at raves
and being on all sorts
of different TV shows

and being on Top of the Pops,
like none of this was expected.

I had never thought
that I would live in New York.

I had never thought that
I would have a record deal.

I never thought that I would
leave the United States.

I never thought that anyone
would make an effort

to listen to the music
that I was making.

And then all of a sudden I was
doing interviews for magazines.

And then I was on the cover
of dance magazines,
and I was on TV shows,

Spin'salbum of the year,
the Village Voice's
album of the year.

And I had a big hit single
in Europe, I had music
in a Michael Mann movie,

and I went on tour with
the Red Hot Chili Peppers
and the Flaming Lips.

Like by the end of 1995,
things were kind of magical.

All that had happened,
and I had expected none of it.

And I was financially stable
for the first time in my life.

And I bought an apartment,
my very own apartment,

with a real studio
with soundproof walls
and a skylight.

♪ I see the stars...

♪ I see the stars

I still remember,
I was on British Airways

flying to the UK
to do Top of the Pops,

and I saw in the newspaper
my song "Go" in the charts

in between Michael Jackson
and Phil Collins.

♪ I see the stars

Can you talk to me
about how that felt?

Not just intellectualizing
that time,

but really unpack your feelings
around that for me?

It felt baffling, confusing,

dislocating,
but it felt wonderful.

I'd been playing music
for 15 years

and every day of those
15 years thinking like,

how can I have an audience?

How can I finally,
like at some point,

even like get a record deal
and make records?

But I never really expected
that that would happen.

♪ These open doors

♪ These open doors

♪ These open doors

♪ These open doors

♪ These open

♪ These open

♪ These open doors

♪ These open

♪ These open

♪ Open doors

♪ These...

♪ Open doors

♪ These open

♪ These open

♪ These open doors

[bell chiming hour
over rattling ambience]

How many people right now
are beating themselves up

because they think they're
not successful enough,
they're not famous enough,

they're not young enough,
they're not beautiful enough,
and like...

But then the people who are
super young, super attractive,

super famous,
they're miserable, you know?

So it's this, it's this
horrifying, I don't know...

Like I don't have to pretend
to be younger than I am.

I don't have to pretend
to be more attractive than I am.

- I don't have to wear a toupee.
- Yeah.

I don't have to pretend
that I'm still young

and relevant in the same way
that I was 20 years ago
or 15 years ago.

One of the hardest things,
at least for me,
and I assume for you,

for lots of people,
is the reason we overcompensate,

the reason we try
to get people to see us
in like exalted lights

is because deep down
we don't like ourselves.

- Like we're ashamed
of ourselves.
- Yeah.

Um, we assume that if anyone
looks too closely,
they'll be repelled.

Especially if they look at me
at this angle.
Something like that.

And like looking at it
yourself,

but then like being
that in the presence
of other people

for as potentially unattractive
and uncomfortable
as that might be.

[electronica playing]

[camera shutter clicks]

So in the mid-'90s,
I shaved my head,

and after a long period
of sobriety,
I started drinking again.

♪ It's hard to let you go!

And I became a complete
rock-and-roll cliché.

I was living on tour buses,
hanging out in the strip clubs,

dating strippers.

♪ It's hard to let you go!

And I fully
foolishly stupidly embraced

the complete rock-and-roll
degenerate lifestyle.

Ah, yay, yah... drinking!

Ah, yay. Raaaah!

[mumbling] ...glug glug glug.

I don't know,
it made sense to me at the time.

Oh, Hi.
My name is Dr. Richard,

and I'd like to talk
to you today about alcoholism.

A lot of people,
many of you who are watching,

might've had a few bad
experiences with drinking,

you know, a few too many drinks
at the office Christmas party.

Well, one of my worst
experiences, I was on a tour bus

and we were driving
from London to Manchester,

and I had 15 or 20 drinks
and took a whole bunch of drugs

and ended up having, I guess,
a sexual encounter
with a few different people.

And when I woke up
in the morning,

I was sick and hung over
and alone and cold.

And I had poop
all over my body.

I was covered with poop,

but I didn't know
whose poop it was.

And to this day,
I don't know whose poop it was.

[bell jingles]

[crowd noises echoing]

Things started to go wrong.

I broke up with my girlfriend.

I started hanging out
in strip clubs,

and also I decided
to make a punk rock record.

[singing indistinct punk lyrics]

I'd put out the album
Animal Rights
and it had failed.

MAN: No one wanted
to listen to it.

He was considered to be
past it, a bit of a loser.

They were just making fun of him
and he took it badly.

He wanted to be liked.

He wanted to be respected.

MOBY: I was convinced it was
going to be my last record.

That I'd move back
to Connecticut,

and I thought I'd go be
a community school teacher.

[punk song resumes]

Then I learned
my Mom had cancer.

And then she died.

[somber guitar music playing]

And I missed her funeral because
I was in bed drunk, passed out.

[guitar continues
over muffled traffic noises]

[distant thunder rumbling]

I'm really, really sorry.

[muffled announcements
echoing over loudspeaker]

WOMAN: Oh, I think that's Moby.

WOMAN 2: That's Moby.

LYNCH: Well, I always
talk about ideas.

And I always say we don't do
anything without first an idea.

So ideas are precious things
and we all want ideas.

There's trillions of ideas,
you know.

They're thoughts in a way,
thoughts go through our heads.

And... but I picture it
out in the ether.

There's trillions and trillions
of fantastic ideas.

And the deeper you can think,

the bigger the ideas are
that you can catch.

So, it's very important

for any line of work
to catch ideas.

And once in a while,
you catch an idea
that you fall in love with,

and then the idea tells you
everything, pretty
much everything.

So if it's like a musical idea,

you catch something that gets
you going to the guitar
or the piano or whatever.

And it fires you up.

Ideas come with inspiration,

a certain amount of information,
and off you go.

[exotic sci-fi
sound effects playing]

I had lost
my American record deal.

My last album, Animal Rights,
had been a complete failure.

My last tour had been a failure
that no one came to,

and I was working
on this album Play,

and I took the music
I was working on,
which was like "Porcelain"

and "Why Does My Heart
Feel So Bad"
and "Natural Blues,"

and I walked around this
neighborhood and it just
sounded terrible to me.

[Moby playing "Honey"]

♪ Get my honey come back

♪ Get my honey come back

And I stopped on this bench,

convinced that my career
was over...

♪ Get my honey come back

...convinced I was working
on a record that no one
was ever going to hear...

[wind whistling]

...and pretty sure that I
was going to sell my apartment

and move back to Connecticut
and have to get a real job.

CONTROLLER:
Five... vehicle's armed...

Three, two, one, fire!

Thrust fired.

[ethereal electronica playing]

And I thought Play
was going to be a complete,
complete failure,

you know because it was a weird,
badly mixed,

badly produced record
that I made in my bedroom.

Mainly involving vocals
from people who've been dead

for 40 or 50 years,
but then things changed a lot.

DAVID LETTERMAN: Our next guest
is a Grammy-nominated musician

whose CD right here was named
one of the top albums
of the year

by nearly every
major publication.

If you don't have one of
these boys now, you ought to,

seriously, tomorrow you ought
to call in sick and go get one.
It's called Play.

Here's Moby.

MOBY: It started off so small.

I mean, when it started,
it was selling

like 2,000 or 3,000 copies
a week, you know,

barely doing anything... oops.

And, uh...

and then it
just kept selling more.

CONAN: My next guest tonight is
acknowledged as one of the most
innovative figures

in the world
of electronic dance music,

and he's here to perform
a song from his most
recent album, Play.

ERIC: Slowly but surely,
everybody who discovered
the music

felt like there was
something special there.

[relaxed electronica playing]

♪ In my dreams I'm dying
all the time ♪

♪ Then I wake
it's kaleidoscopic mind ♪

♪ I never meant to hurt you

♪ I never meant to lie

♪ So this is goodbye

♪ This is goodbye

And it was so surprising
and every time it sold more,

I thought,
"Great, now it's done."

And then it started selling
10,000 copies a week,

and then it started selling
100,000 copies a week.

And then at one point it was
selling almost 200,000 copies
worldwide a week.

And it went number one
in the UK and it went
number one in France

and Australia and Germany.

And suddenly, you know,

I went from playing to
a couple hundred people a night

to a couple thousand people
a night to...

Oh wow, cricket bats.

Do you need a cricket bat?

Um...

Do I need a cricket bat?

ERIC: So different tracks
in different countries

sort of brought
this album forward.

And at that point I just looked
at Moby and said,

"Who the fuck are these people?
How does this even happen?"

MOBY: It was like magic.

♪ Here we are now
going to the East Side ♪

♪ I pick up my friends
and we start to ride ♪

♪ Ride all night,
yeah, we ride all day ♪

♪ Some may come
and some may stay... ♪

[muffled music playing]

- MOBY: Hello?
- DAVID BOWIE: Hi, guy.
How are you doing?

- Hello?
- Hiya.

Hi, David.

Yeah, I know this voice.

Um...

Go on, keep talking, will ya?

- Hello?
- Hello. You sound
incredibly tall.

Am I right?
Are you a tall person?

I can't, unfortunately
I can't hear you very well.

You're a tall person
with really long hair, yeah?

I'm a tall person
with really long hair.

- I weigh about 300 pounds.
- Yeah, it's Moby, isn't it?

One of the sexiest men...

[cheering and applause]

MOBY: David Bowie
was my favorite musician
of all time.

- [camera shutter clicks]
- Maybe 2000, 2001...

He moved across the street to me
and I couldn't believe it.

Like I became friends
with David Bowie.

Some of the moments that
he and I had together,

I almost feel like
there was maybe like

a quasi older brother quality
to his friendship with me.

And we had barbecues together.
We went to the deli together.

We got tea together and we
worked on music together,

and we had holidays together
and dinners together.

And we got to go
on tour together.

David Bowie and Moby!

[band playing]

♪ Sitting here wishing
on a cement floor ♪

♪ Just wishing that I had
just something you wore ♪

♪ I put it on
when I grow lonely ♪

♪ Won't you take off your dress
and send it to me? ♪

♪ I miss your kiss
and then I miss your head ♪

♪ And a letter in your writing
doesn't mean you're not dead ♪

♪ Just run outside
in the desert heat ♪

♪ Make your dress all wet
then send it to me ♪

Here I was, this panicking,
alcoholic, bald musician

who thought his career was over.

And then all of a sudden
my career wasn't just over,

but it had become
like actual rock stardom.

♪ And I miss your breath

♪ And a little bit of writing
doesn't mean you're dead ♪

I'd walk down the street
and people knew who I was,

and I would go to parties
and women I'd never met
would flirt with me

and then headlining
my own festival, you know,
with New Order and Outkast

and these big bands
opening up for me.

ERIC: I mean
an album like Play
transcends the music industry

because it became
a mainstream phenomenon.

MOBY: It ultimately completely
corrupted and ruined me,

but at the time
it was so much fun

to go from being
kind of a washed-up has-been

to dating movie stars
and going to these parties
and making a lot of money

and touring and playing in front
of tens of thousands of people.

Like maybe I should pretend
it wasn't great, but for
a minute it was really great.

And it was mind boggling.

And every day I drank more.

I started doing
a lot of drugs, and...

it was amazing,
but terrible at the same time.

I mean like my narcissism,
my entitlement,
just were really out of control.

Yeah. Um...

Do you want me
to pick you up anything here?

Yeah. It's an Indian grocery.

[ethereal ambience playing]

Hi. So we're here
talking to Moby,

and, uh, I want to ask him
some questions about fame.

So, Moby, what are your thoughts
about the world of fame?

How did you buy into fame?

And why would you think it was
so important to you?

It's confusing to me.

I think that you're not
a stupid person.

So why do you think you bought
into the cold culture of fame?

I think I just saw it as a way
of, I dunno, very simply
it made me feel better.

It made me feel like I had
legitimacy, and meaning,
that my life had worth.

So you keep saying that, not
having worth and legitimacy,
and how do you feel now?

I mean, how do you think
you got out of that pattern?

How do you measure yourself?
Playwas your
biggest hit, right?

- MOBY: Mm-hmm.
- You've never topped that
since.

- No.
- Why?

Uh...
That's a good question.

You keep saying that,
that's what I'm here to do.

- Yeah.
- [falsetto characters warbling]

And I'm, I don't know.

Like I desperately wanted them
to be as successful as Play

and it would make me sad
that each record was
sort of like

successively less successful...

- [falsetto character warbles]
- And...

Do you analyze it?

We've talked about this,
when Playbecame
successful, I loved it.

I pretended
I didn't really care.

I tried really hard
to pretend when I talked
to journalists or people

that fame didn't matter to me,
but I loved it.

Were you anxious?
Depressed?

What were you going through?

I was angry.
I was like an addict, you know.

Like a baby who was being weaned
from his mother's breast.

Like an addict who like,
the crack pipe
was being taken away from me.

And I was angry,
and I was scared, and I was sad,

and I just wanted anything
that would bring
the fame back to me.

As your therapist,

it's my professional
and personal opinion

that you are a sad
and broken human being.

I mean, you know what I'm
talking about, right?

♪ Ooh-ooh

♪ Beneath the sorrow tree

♪ Ooh-ooh

♪ Beneath the sorrow tree

♪ Ooh-ooh

♪ Beneath the sorrow tree

♪ Ooh-ooh

[cheering and applause]

[discordant
ambient music playing]

♪ Beneath the sorrow tree

[discordant electronica echoing]

[electronica growing louder]

[electronica buzzing,
clattering]

[somber orchestral chords
over clattering]

Oh, hey.

I didn't expect
to see you down here.

Wow, I haven't seen you
in a while.

Ha.

I never really understood
what you were.

You're an alien,
but are you an alien bug?

'Cause you have antenna.

You're sort of a self-portrait.

You're bald except for antenna.

I'm bald.

You come from another planet.
I come from another planet.

- [chimes jingling]
- Do you want to
go for one more,

do you want to go for a ride?

Is your, your ship is here?

Okay. Let's go for one,
you want to?
Yeah, let's go.

The status quo wasn't going
to last, I didn't want
to admit that to myself.

And then I started getting
really bad reviews.

Like I remember
The New York Timesgave
one of my records a review

where they said it was so bad,
it represented the end of music.

- Really?
- Yeah. It was on the homepage
of The New York Times

- for a week.
- The end of music.

And there were people
writing in comments about

not just that they didn't
like me, but they wanted
to stab me to death.

They wanted to kick me
to death on the street.

- They wanted to hang me.
- Where is this?

Just like where people like
write crazy ass stuff.

And it was, it really started
to freak me out.

'Cause I was like,
oh, this is the media.

- Right.
- This is the thing that I love.

This is the thing that I need
to feel good about myself.

And not only are they paying
less attention to me,

but the attention they're paying
to me is so hurtful.

- Right.
- You know?

And so, and it...
it really was disconcerting.

- WOMAN: You suck!
- [crowd booing]

Nobody listens to techno!

Nobody listens to techno!

Nobody listens to techno!

You suck!

MAN: [drunkenly] You suuuuck!

[distorted booing]

You suuuuck!

[booing continues]

[slowing down, echoing]
Nobody listens to techno!

I was in Barcelona
for the MTV Music Awards,

and I'd been told beforehand
that I was going to be winning
an MTV Music Award.

And it was going to be
my third or fourth

or fifth MTV Music Award
that I was winning.

And I got to my hotel
in Barcelona the night before
the MTV Music Awards.

And I was at the top of one
of the most elegant hotels
I've ever been to.

It's called the Arts Hotel.

And there were four huge
apartments at the top
of this hotel,

and my neighbors were P. Diddy,
Bon Jovi, and Madonna.

So the four of us
were sharing this floor.

It's overlooking Barcelona
and the Mediterranean.

And that night I ended up
getting very drunk...

and everything was perfect.

You know,
everything I'd ever wanted had
been given to me, even more so.

You know, like I just wanted
to make a few obscure records

and all of a sudden, like I'm
at the top of this crazy hotel

and I've sold 10
or 20 million records.

And everything had been given
to me that I'd ever wanted
times a million.

And I was so despondent.

How strange it was that
I've been given everything

and I'd never been more
depressed.

And one of the only things
that kept me from killing myself
was the fact

that the windows in the hotel
didn't open wide enough.

And I was even annoyed at that.

I was like, wow,
I can't even kill myself.

Even that somehow is denied me.

It was such an odd moment

to be at what was ostensibly
the pinnacle of my career

and the pinnacle of my life

and to have never been
more depressed.

[choral music echoing
in background]

I went back to New York,
and I just started
drinking more,

and I started doing cocaine.

I'd always avoided cocaine
because of all the drugs,

that was the one
that scared me the most.

So I was having 15 drinks
a night,

a couple hundred dollars' worth
of cocaine every night,

and then every morning
at like 7:00,

I would try to go to sleep
and I would take Xanax

and Vicodin and I would wake up
so disappointed

that I was still alive.

And it got to the point where
when I went to sleep,

all I wanted
was to never wake up.

But somehow, and maybe I'm like
part cockroach or part rat,

I just kept waking up, you know,
at 4 or 5 in the afternoon

so disappointed
I was still alive.

And I was physically,
I was starting to turn gray,

and I was all puffy,
and I had this like
alcoholic bloatedness.

There were complete strangers
in my apartment.

People were smoking
crystal meth in my bathroom.

There are people I'd never met
having sex in my bed.

Finally in 2008, I think
I just bottomed out,

you know, in every way,
like physically,
emotionally, spiritually.

Yeah. And then 2008,
October, 2008, I finally
stopped drinking.

[muffled music pounding,
liquid burbling]

♪ I would stand
in line for this ♪

♪ There's always room
in life for this ♪

♪ Oh babe, oh babe

♪ Then it fell apart

♪ It fell apart

♪ Oh babe

♪ Oh babe

♪ Then it fell apart

♪ It fell apart

♪ I had to close down
everything ♪

♪ I had to
close down my mind ♪

♪ Too many things
could cut me ♪

♪ Too much can
make me blind ♪

♪ I've seen so much
in so many places ♪

♪ So many heartaches,
so many faces ♪

♪ So many dirty things

♪ You couldn't even believe

♪ I would stand
in line for this ♪

♪ There's always room
in life for this ♪

♪ What you say my name was?

♪ Say it

♪ What you say my name was?

♪ Ah, say it when

♪ I know I can

♪ But I know I can

♪ Well, I know
I can't find no... ♪

♪ Oh babe

♪ Oh babe

♪ Then it fell apart

♪ It fell apart

♪ Oh babe

♪ Oh babe

♪ Then it fell apart

♪ It fell apart

♪ Oh babe

♪ Oh babe

♪ Then it fell apart

♪ It fell apart

♪ Oh babe

♪ Oh babe

♪ Like it always does

♪ Always does

[cheering and applause]

In the crack neighborhood
in Stamford, I was happier.

Making $3,000 a year,
I was happier.

Paying $50 a month
so I could squat,

I was happier than when I was
living overlooking Central Park.

Felt like such a confused...

'cause I had thought
that living in this perfect home
was going to fix everything.

Like, how couldn't it?
When I found the perfect home,
I would be perfectly happy.

When you set your sights,
you know you spend your entire
life working towards something

and you achieve it
and you're less happy

than before you even started
working to achieve it,

you don't know what else to do.

- [horn beeps]
- [animals squawking]

Give up the familiar,
even if it's killing you,

and you have to figure out
then what works.

[cow moos]

90% of rainforest deforestation,

probably 75% of erectile
dysfunction...

[audience laughing]

40% of California's water use,

50% of cancer, diabetes,
heart disease,

close to 100% of famine,

'cause all the food that they're
feeding the cows, et cetera,

could be fed to people.

50% of ocean acidification.

So in one fell swoop,
you address all these
environmental issues

just by stopping subsidizing
animal agriculture.

That's my quick spiel.

[crowd murmuring]

I think people should speak up
about what they believe in.

So, Moby, more power to him,
you know.

What he's speaking about
all the time is,
are positive things.

And... but he's known for,
you know, great music.

And I think Moby really does,
you know, love, you know,
what he does

and more power to him.

Just keep on making
that great music, Mo.

Just as an aside, not to take up
too much time,

but like, have you
looked around recently?

This is real.

- Like, you know?
- [applause]

I mean,
you look at the space,

and you look at the people,
this is real.

Like I've been a vegan
for 30 years.

30 years ago,
this didn't exist.

[applause]

So let's just take a moment.

I mean,
we have a long way to go,

but boy, we've come so far.

[applause]

Moby and I are super excited
to present this evening's
incredible news.

In just a few weeks,
we will be launching

the world's first ever
vegan music festival
right here in Los Angeles.

[cheering]

[indistinct introduction,
crowd cheering]

First off just once again,
thank you to everyone.

- And...
- [applause]

...one last thing before
we play this song.

Maybe this is
smug of me to say this,

but we're on the right side
of history.

- Whoo!
- [cheering and applause]

It was just a given
that at some point

people will look
at animal agriculture
in the past

the way we now look at slavery,

or the way that we look
at like women not being
allowed to vote,

or the way we look
at African-Americans
and Caucasians

not being allowed
to use the same drinking
fountain.

Like as
Martin Luther King Jr. said,
and we often paraphrase,

the moral arc of the universe
is long and it bends
towards justice.

It also bends towards
the pragmatic reason.

And there's so many reasons
to consider veganism.

Like using animals for food is
the dumbest, cruelest thing

that we have ever done
collectively as a species.

- [cheering and applause]
- And to that end,

I know it's going to stop,

especially because everybody
here and people around the world

are working so hard on it.

So I would like to dedicate
this song to all the ravers

and all the animal rights
activists, and everyone.

Thanks.

[electronica playing]

♪ I'm feeling so real

♪ Love that you feel it now

♪ I'm feeling so real

♪ Love that you feel it

♪ I'm feeling so real

♪ I'm...
[voice electronically
distorted]

♪ I'm feeling so real

♪ Love that you feel now

♪ I'm feeling so real

♪ Love that we're
feeling now! ♪

♪ I'm feeling so real

♪ Love that you feel now

♪ I'm feeling so real

♪ Love that you feel now

[crowd whistling and applauding]

Thank you, thank you, thank you,
thank you, thank you...

[thunder crashing]

[wind whistling]

As I've gotten older,
the world of people just
doesn't interest me as much.

[eagle screeching]

Nothing that humans make
ever compares

to what I can find in nature.

There are no signs.

There's no advertisements.

There's this wonderful,
still indifference to us.

As humans, we love feeling
a sense of significance

and we spend our whole lives
pursuing significance

and trying
to maintain the fiction
that we have great significance,

but there's something really
refreshing and nice

about giving up
any sense of significance

and just remembering our place
in the order of things.

And even though I'm still crazy,

I think I've hopefully
figured out

how to avoid looking
for like big, giant things

to fix more like small
internal problems, but...

Where am, where am I?

[geese honking]

[techno chords playing,
liquid burbling]

[static buzzing]

[somber orchestral chords
playing]

[piano playing somber arpeggios]

[techno chords playing]

[fireworks whistling, popping]

[electronica buzzing]

[percussion pounding]

[wind whistling]

[birds squawking, singing]

[bees droning]

[crows cawing]

[background rumbling,
growing louder]

[ominous echoes droning]

[exotic birds trilling]

[rumbling growing louder]

- [ambient music stops]
- MOBY: Hey, Hey.

Hey. Hey.

Death. Hey!

[footsteps crunching ground]

Hey.

Hey.

Whoa.

[clears throat]

Hey, Death.

Ugh!

Hey, Death.

Hey.

What are you doing out here?

[static feedback squealing]

No.

I mean, it's a beautiful day.
You want to go for a walk?

[static feedback squealing]

Nah, come on. It's...
It's a nice day.

So it might sound weird,

but I could almost,
in an odd way,

say that I'm sort of a fan
of your work...

- [static feedback squealing]
- ...because...

Yeah, I know,
I think a lot of people have

some weird opinions about you,

but I'm also
an animal rights activist,

and for most animals,
especially the ones
on factory farms, like,

who experience nothing
in their entire lives
but sickness and suffering,

like without you, there's
no end to their suffering.

I mean think of all the sick
and suffering people.

You know, without you,

there is quite literally
no end to their suffering.

I mean, you are merciful.

And I think it's also a little
strange that people
are afraid of you

and have such negative opinions
about you because

you're the only, literally,
the only guarantee
in people's lives.

Yeah, I'm really,
I mean, look, I mean,

I meet a lot of public figures

and I really don't want
to be some fan weirdo,

but yeah, I...

I, I...

But I am wondering,

and I hear... you probably
hear this all the time,

but like what happens
after we die?

[static feedback squealing]

[electronica playing]

[muffled echoes,
liquid burbling]

♪ Oh...

♪ We close our eyes

♪ The perfect life

♪ Life

♪ Is all we need

Everybody! Come on.

- ♪ Ah, ah...
- Make some noise!

♪ Oh

♪ We close our eyes

♪ The perfect life

♪ Life

♪ Is all we need

- One more, come on.
- A cappella.

♪ Oh!

♪ We close our eyes

♪ The perfect life

♪ Life

♪ Is all we need

Whoo!

♪ Oh

♪ We close our eyes

♪ The perfect life

♪ Life

♪ Is all we need

[falsetto] ♪ Oh

♪ We close our eyes

♪ The perfect life

♪ Life

♪ Is all we need

♪ Oh

♪ We close our eyes

♪ The perfect life

♪ Life

♪ Is all we need

♪ Oh

♪ We close our eyes

♪ The perfect life

♪ Life

♪ Is all we need

♪ Oh

♪ We close our eyes

♪ The perfect life

♪ Life

♪ Is all we need