Caleb Followill on Family, Fame and Finding His Way Back to Music

Theo Von and Caleb Followill begin with a joking discussion of a drone used to wash a dog, then notice that they both dressed in denim. They share their appreciation for the autumn colors around Nashville.

Followill remembers living near Memphis before the family began moving with his father’s ministry. Von, who grew up in Louisiana, recognizes the places Followill mentions.

Von asks where Followill grew up. Followill was born in Memphis and spent his first years near the city, but his father was a traveling evangelist. The family moved between Oklahoma, Louisiana and other places for church services.

Followill remembers a Louisiana cousin who was so eager for winter that a little frost seemed enough to make a snowman. Both men joke about the state's climate and its distinctive accents, which Followill says took time to understand.

Von jokes that following a Louisiana conversation requires the listener to work hard. Followill says that after traveling more widely he came to appreciate how distinctive the state is.

As a child Followill spent summers with that cousin. They slipped out at night, broke into a swimming pool and once hid in a drainage ditch when police appeared. Later he took odd jobs, including roofing work in Louisiana.

Followill remembers annual flooding at his cousin’s home and the family eventually giving up on replacing carpet. The two joke that a concrete floor became their practical answer to the water.

Their conversation moves from flooding and family houses to religion. Followill says his father preached from town to town and could make an intimidating man laugh and then cry. To him, his father had the presence of a rock star and connected with ordinary people.

For much of childhood, the family's belongings lived in the car. Followill enjoyed seeing the country but says making friends and leaving them behind eventually hurt. Traveling with his brothers helped: they always had each other, although conventional school and dating felt foreign.

Moving so often made normal high-school experiences hard to imagine. Followill notes the irony that he later chose another career that kept him on the road.

The family arrived when a church wanted a revival and left hoping its energy would continue. The boys were expected to behave and often looked for a basketball court. Church was also where they first sang together and sometimes played drums or helped with the collection.

They talk about films involving traveling preachers, including Leap of Faith and The Apostle. Followill recalls sneaking off to rent an R-rated movie with his cousin and leaving it unreturned, leading to an enormous bill years later.

Their shared interest in movies leads to Robert Duvall and Crazy Heart. Von remembers revisiting favorite stories and wondering what happened to the characters after the credits.

Crazy Heart and its music strike a personal chord. Followill says that when he watched it on tour while feeling worn down, the story felt like a spotlight on him. Von recalls asking Jeff Bridges how the film's character was doing after the story ended.

Followill describes a friend hearing Bridges rehearse the film's songs before its release. They reflect on confusing actors with their characters and how creators can become embarrassed by early work before eventually learning to appreciate it again.

Followill says creators sometimes reject old work when they are close to it. Looking back after a long career can soften that judgment, and make a later attempt at reinvention seem more embarrassing.

Von asks about Pentecostal services. Followill remembers music throughout the gathering: he or his brother Nathan might play drums to energize the room. Their father's sermons had familiar passages the children knew by heart.

Although outsiders might pity a childhood without a stable school routine, Followill remembers it as exciting. The family was always moving, and a revival might end with the whole congregation descending on a restaurant late at night.

After a break, Von asks about speaking in tongues and the physical intensity of worship. Followill recalls services where people laid hands on others and describes recoveries he understood as miracles. The two discuss prayer as a way of directing concern and attention toward someone else.

Followill recalls a woman at church who had been seriously ill and says his father prayed for her. He presents her later survival as one of the experiences that shaped his belief.

Followill says the family's revivals were mostly in the South. He recalls a cold night after a tent meeting when his father's sweat-soaked hair froze on the way to the car. He distinguishes their services from churches that handled snakes.

He remembers that Southern tent meetings could be especially lively. Their own family did not practice snake handling, an association outsiders sometimes make with certain religious services.

The family had little money and sometimes a church could offer little cash. One gave them tickets to Disney World. Followill says the children did not fully understand what they lacked and remembers the love and laughter they shared.

Von says he felt resentment about poverty and wishes someone had explained that a family's worth is not defined by money. He and Followill recall making jokes with friends and learning to be resourceful when they had very little.

Von remembers his mother working long hours and jokes with Followill that having little can also make teasing among friends feel less intimidating. Both connect humor with getting through hardship.

Von learned practical skills early while his mother worked. Followill says his own childhood gave him thick skin and a hunger to prove his worth. Even after success, he could enter a room feeling he did not belong and want to earn people's respect.

Followill says his mother taught him to value respect. He connects the desire to be respected with the childhood feeling that he needed to prove his worth.

The two joke about childhood sleeping arrangements. Followill remembers sleeping in the moving family car, sometimes on the floor or behind the rear seat. Von recalls collecting cans and other small ways he tried to find a little money.

Von tells a childhood story about taking a dollar from his mother’s purse and saving it rather than spending it. The exchange leads him back to Followill’s idea of having to create and prove oneself.

Von asks how church singing became Kings of Leon. Followill once assumed he might become a preacher like his father. After his parents separated, he worked painting houses in Oklahoma as a teenager, but decided that work was not his future.

At the time, Followill could imagine painting or preaching because those were the occupations he knew through family. The decision to return home opened a different possibility, even though he had no clear plan.

Considering military enlistment, Followill says he heard an inner voice telling him to go home. He returned to his mother and younger brother in Jackson, Tennessee, with a vague hope of entering music and finding his way to Nashville.

Nathan soon returned and offered to help. Neither brother knew how to start, so they wrote simple rhymes and listened to artists such as Otis Redding and Sam Cooke. After hearing a few songs, their mother decided to take them to Nashville.

In Jackson, the brothers searched magazine classified pages for singers, musicians and songwriters. They began with little knowledge of the business and encouraged one another to keep writing.

Their future stepfather heard the brothers sing on a boat and lent them about $1,000 so they could leave their restaurant jobs and pursue music. They knocked on doors around Nashville and faced rejection, but one lawyer listened and helped them secure a publishing deal.

Their mother believed in the brothers’ ability. Followill remembers their stepfather giving them just enough room to stop waiting tables and knock on doors in Nashville.

Their songs did not fit neatly into country music. In New York, however, seven of nine labels they met offered record deals, and they signed with RCA. Back in Tennessee they invited their cousin to play guitar and younger brother Jared to play bass.

Jared left high school to join the band, with their mother's support. Their cousin played a Thin Lizzy solo over the phone to demonstrate his guitar skills, then arrived saying he was only visiting for a weekend—though he did not plan to go back.

The musicians’ mother allowed Jared to leave school for the band. Followill sees that decision as another example of her belief that her sons could do something special.

Followill remembers a record executive arriving in a limousine and listening to them play in a garage. The band recorded an EP while still writing the album. They were in Memphis making the record when they learned the EP had taken off in the UK.

Before flying to London, the inexperienced group played small shows in Atlanta and Birmingham. At one venue only one listener stood in front of the stage, giving them a chance to practice performing before facing a larger audience overseas.

At the Birmingham show, one attendee called for Free Bird. Followill jokes that the new band was still learning its own material and was hardly ready to play Lynyrd Skynyrd.

On the drive from the London airport they heard several of their own songs on the radio. At their first concert, they had to follow more experienced bands. Followill told his bandmates to play fast and lean into their Southern sound; the audience already knew the songs.

Playing after polished bands in London was frightening. Followill chose to emphasize the Southern quality that made his group sound different, and the crowd’s familiarity with the songs helped them through.

Success in Britain contrasted with anonymity at home. They appeared on British magazine covers but returned to Nashville restaurants where hardly anyone recognized them. British press was fascinated by their family relationship and their preacher father, sometimes questioning whether their story was real.

Back home the group kept playing bars and writers' nights to gain experience, even when Followill was too young to remain in a venue after the set. Returning to Britain was like stepping into a different world where audiences already knew the band.

They discuss artists whose popularity differs by country. Followill remembers playing table tennis with Prince Harry and performing at an event hosted by Prince William. Then Von asks about the band's early opportunity to tour with Bob Dylan.

The hosts joke about British royalty, and Followill remembers Harry as a good table-tennis player. He says he played an event associated with William but did not meet him.

Followill says Dylan had requested the band and played their music on his radio show. During the tour Dylan appeared behind him, asked about a song and praised it; on the last night he came to hug the group. Followill recalls the encouragement from an iconic American musician.

A member of Dylan’s touring party envied the opening band’s accommodation in Chicago. Followill remembers hearing that Dylan preferred hotels where he could open a window to smoke.

Von asks what fame does to brothers working together. Followill says the shared experience brought support and competition: they fought with each other but also faced the world as a family. In rooms full of accomplished people, their shared history helped keep them grounded.

Followill believes the band might not have survived without that family support. Seeing a younger brother struggling could remind him of his responsibility, even when he was struggling himself. He worries about artists who become famous while surrounded mostly by people whose income depends on them.

Shared success could still intensify sibling rivalry. Followill says the brothers checked one another, sometimes too harshly, but that accountability helped them navigate unfamiliar situations.

The family bond also shaped the music. Followill compares it with siblings singing harmonies: their connection produces something that technical skill alone cannot fully explain. He says they have always approached the band as a team, just as they once played basketball together.

Both men recognize the temptation to believe they could succeed alone. Followill says outside voices can encourage a performer to separate from the group, while celebrity culture rewards flattery. He has always wanted the band to continue together.

Followill is wary of people who surround celebrities with praise while trying to draw them away from established relationships. Von recognizes how appealing the promise of going it alone can become.

As a father, Followill wants his children to see him as a dependable dad rather than through the public's eyes. He admits that being the singer with the microphone sometimes fed his ego and may have distanced him from the rest of the band.

Followill describes periods of heavy drinking and feeling isolated on tour. He felt uncomfortable with the person he was becoming and sensed that his band and crew avoided him. During soundchecks he sometimes started playing alone until the other instruments gradually joined in.

At soundcheck, Followill wanted someone to make him feel either that things were all right or that they were not. Making music together could briefly restore a sense that the band was connected.

Von relates to feeling unable to perform without drinking. Followill says routines can become traps: he felt expected to repeat the same persona on stage. He recalls years when anger drew cheers from the audience even though he was hurting himself and losing inspiration.

His habits have improved, and he now enjoys the work and connecting with audiences. For around ten years he barely spoke between songs; today he wants to engage with the crowd. He feels the music they make now helps make up for years when he could not enjoy performing.

The new album, O My Beloved, prompted Followill to look back at the journey. He describes its songs as carrying gratitude for their upbringing, the difficult road and the men they became. What matters to him now includes being present for their families as well as the band's success.

Followill says the band originally would have been thrilled to sell enough records to play for 10,000 people. Looking back, he values the fact that the members survived and became present fathers.

The band never completely stopped working, he says, though at times they kept a lower profile and felt uninspired. Von points to the extraordinary success of the 2008 album Only by the Night, which brought a new level of attention at home and abroad.

After Only by the Night, songs such as Sex on Fire and Use Somebody became familiar to crowds almost everywhere. Followill says the dramatic jump in attention was difficult for the band to absorb.

Followill says that sudden scale brought pressure and some dark years. At different times they tried to escape the success or recreate it, but repeating a past moment can produce a diluted version. He now feels they have regained confidence and the competitive spirit they had when starting out.

The band sometimes tried to recapture the earlier peak, then learned that forcing a repeat did not work. Followill says their experience now gives them confidence on stage alongside any other band.

Von compares musicians and comedians trying to evolve while giving audiences what they remember. Followill reflects on the danger of being expected to remain the same public character. They discuss how artists and fans alike age, even when a beloved song brings back an earlier moment.

They reflect on the tension between a fan’s image of an artist and the real person who keeps changing. Both recognize how easy it is to cling to work or a persona that once felt safe.

Von recalls meeting 311 singer Nick Hexum at an airport and feeling a rush of childhood joy. He reflects on how changing destructive habits can allow a musician to keep performing. Followill similarly speaks about the sadness of watching a favorite artist struggle late in life.

A favorite song can return listeners to a specific childhood moment, Followill says, but it cannot keep the performer or audience from aging. The pair joke about old posters and music magazines.

Asked about his bandmates, Followill says Nathan often took the protective older-brother role, Jared brings humor and a big heart, and cousin Matthew became part of the brothers' shared world. Their teasing moved around the group rather than belonging to only one person.

Followill says cousin Matthew joined a group of brothers with established inside jokes. Looking back, he can imagine that the teasing sometimes felt different to the person outside that immediate sibling bond.

Von asks how Followill's relationship with religion changed. Followill says he was bitter for a time because he felt his father was judged against an impossible standard of perfection. His relationship with God is now personal: he prays, reads the Bible and continues to question what he believes.

Followill does not claim to have all the answers. He says the search itself has value, and he hopes to raise his children to be kind and considerate. The men talk about helping others even when one is still struggling personally.

He says his upbringing emphasized kindness and consideration beyond religious practice. He wants his children to learn to value people for who they are.

Von describes hearing someone speak at a recovery meeting and suddenly feeling less alone, as if he could finally exhale. Followill suggests that support and concern from others can reach a person in unexpected ways. They return to their shared belief in the power of prayer.

Followill imagines the band someday accompanying their father at a small revival, like the intimate churches he remembers, rather than a grand production. The conversation wanders through an online preacher clip and then returns to the band's upcoming festival appearances.

The two briefly react to an online clip of a young preacher. They move on to upcoming festival dates and recognize a musician they had first encountered at their early London concert.

Followill notes that Empire of the Sun shares a festival bill with them; its member had played in Sleepy Jackson at the London show that once frightened the young band. He says his father is well and still occasionally preaches at his local church. Von thanks him and wishes the band well on tour.