From Drugs and Angst to Inspirational Advocacy

Erupting from the early aughts post-grunge volcano came the band Shinedown, then a group of troubled talents, now the clean and sober record-holders for most No. 1 mainstream rock singles. The pensive Jacksonville, Florida quartet, ever distilling their lives into song, inadvertently composed seven studio albums that chart a nearly 20-year climb from the mire pits of substance abuse, wrong turns, and anguish to inspirational superstardom.

The word “rockstar” carries certain connotations, implying fast-burning hedonistic lifestyles and dangerous overindulgence that can seem anything but motivational. Rockstars, as society understands them, are less vulnerable, tender-hearted mental health advocates and more like Shinedown frontman Brent Smith’s younger self: angst-riddled individuals addicted to cocaine, OxyContin, and alcohol.

Smith confessed in an interview that, during the making of Shinedown’s debut and sophomore records—2003’s Leave a Whisper and Us and Them (2005)—he’d grappled with the aforementioned substances. So had former guitarist Jasin Todd, Smith’s “toxic twin” during Shinedown’s early days. These albums reflect a darker outlook in both artwork and songcraft.

Leave a Whisper delivers Shinedown’s grittiest work: a gloomy haze of vociferous vocals, somber, angry, and suspicious lyrics, and thunderous walls of storm cloud sound. The moody blue cover art’s focal point—an uprooted tree silhouetted against a desolate field—suggests emotional upheaval. In contrast, the two human figures in the tree might represent one clinging to life regardless of their bleak surroundings. This bruised and raw collection bleeds poetic introspection through wounds of rage, exhaustion, questioning, and despair. It’s far from an uplifter, but it’s among Shinedown’s strongest work and offers powerful glimpses into the band members’ perspectives around its conception.

Tracks like “Fly From the Inside” depict a beleaguered protagonist grimly seeking “the key to the next open chapter” despite searching “on and on” to “connect” (presumably with society). Fellow hit single “45“, one of Shinedown’s darkest pieces, sketches the story of someone whose heart is “swallowed by pain / as he slowly fell apart.” Although the chorus, “And I’m staring down the barrel of a .45”, implies suicidal ideation, Smith clarified that the .45 is really “a metaphor for the world, and ‘staring down the barrel of a 45’ was about staring down at this planet and what it throws at you…”

However, Smith’s use of a gun for lyrical imagery was partially influenced by friends who took their lives via firearms. This may have impacted him while composing Leave a Whisper. If this first record tugs listeners through the emotional mud, reflecting its creators’ weary, substance-heavy hearts, its follow-up doesn’t do much to wash the mire away.

Us and Them marks another triumphant hard rock record, delivering fresh masterpieces (“Save Me”, “Shed Some Light”, and the extended cut of “Lady So Divine” among them), but it doesn’t sonically advance from its predecessor. Perhaps this isn’t surprising, considering Smith’s then-ongoing addiction.

Us and Them confronts drug abuse in “Save Me” (“I got a candle / and I’ve got a spoon”, “How could I love this? / My life’s so dishonest”), and possibly “Lady So Divine” (“She’s here to rescue me / Stain my mind with make-believe”). It also explores vice, immorality, and conviction. “Once, I had a halo / But then it caught on fire”, Smith sings in “Atmosphere“, a cheeky ode to the various sinners the song’s protagonist has known. “I took my number, and I waited in line”, he adds after diming out preachers who abandoned their faith, leaders “born from genocide”, and good girls who have “become the whole world’s whore.”

This album, framed by another grungy cover featuring nervous-looking schoolchildren beneath a turbulent sky, administers Shinedown’s final dose of that heavy, early 2000s-style “shotgun blast” and “kick in the ass” hard rock. With life beginning to improve for the band, especially Smith, in the coming years, Shinedown’s downbeat sentiments play out their last notes and pick up an optimistic tune by the next album.

Album #3, The Sound of Madness (2008), instantly became the quintessential Shinedown record. A smash hit out the gate—singles like “Second Chance” still grace grocery store speakers today, while “Sound of Madness” and “If You Only Knew” prove rock radio mainstays over fifteen years later—the adrenalized and ballad-laced collection solidifies Shinedown’s identity. If the first two albums see the band navigating addiction minefields and tossing out troublesome guitarists, The Sound of Madness unleashes their full potential.

Here, the music swerves into softer territory in sound and subject. High-octane heavy hitters like “Devour” and “Sound of Madness” fuel Shinedown’s aggressive hard rock energy, while pieces like “Call Me”, “Breaking Inside”, and “The Crow & the Butterfly” develop the band’s gentler sensibilities. Shinedown also looks outward here. “Devour” is a political piece critical of American troops’ protracted endangerment and separation from loved ones in Iraq; “Cry for Help” and “Sound of Madness” call out users, abusers, and self-defeatists (“You’ve been affected by a social disease? / “Well, then, take your medicine!” Smith shouts in the latter).

The Sound of Madness embodies maturity. Musically, the tracks are tighter, more consciously designed and produced; Smith’s vocals tread that terrific balance between polished and natural. Emotional burdens also lighten, as reflected by the songs’ relatively measured responses to grief, relationship damage, etc. Even the angry tracks strike a “pull yourself up by your bootstraps and take some accountability” tone that differs from the prior albums’ doom-and-gloom perspective of hardship.

Smith, current guitarist Zach Myers recounted, finally kicked his drug habit before The Sound of Madness despite continuing to drink during the touring period, which may account for the album’s shifted tone. Unfortunately, Smith hadn’t rescued his health just yet. “The coke and Oxy kept my weight down,” Smith shared, “but for the third album, I quit opiates and started to crave sugar. I was still drinking a lot of alcohol and started to pack on the pounds.”

Smith’s psyche no longer slogged through the drug abuse haze, but the alcohol recognizably affected his body, causing former Today show host Kathie Lee Gifford to mistake Smith for the singer Meat Loaf. “It really stung,” Smith confessed. “I’m a fan of Meat Loaf, but she wasn’t talking about a musical comparison. It was national television and my heart kind of fell on the ground… It was like the performance didn’t even matter.”

Smith cited this moment as a wake-up call to iron out the remaining kinks in his lifestyle. By 2011/2012, before the fourth studio album Amaryllis (2012) was released, Smith, encouraged by his girlfriend and a rigorous trainer, dropped over 70 pounds, regained his vocal stamina, and whipped himself into shape. “I felt like I’d been in a death spiral, and I realized I needed to be healthy and strong for my family,” Smith told the Los Angeles Times in 2013. “I have a 4-year-old boy, and he was a huge motivation, and so were the [Shinedown] fans.” By the time the first Amaryllis music videos appeared, the world saw a very different Brent Smith.

Leaned down and toned up, a healthier Smith influenced Shinedown’s new softest collection. Amaryllis steered away from The Sound of Madness‘s sensitive but hard-nosed tone and leaned heavily into ballads, soothing self-reflection pieces, and humanitarian, outward-facing music. In “Unity“, Shinedown comforts listeners and tells them their moment of truth is when they say, “I’m not scared.” “Bully” swings out with a rousing anti-bullying message. Breezy love songs like “Amaryllis” and made-for-the-altar hit “I’ll Follow You” expand upon Shinedown’s tender tendencies.

While The Sound of Madness laid the groundwork for less angsty music, Amaryllis completed the pivot onto Inspiration Lane. “During the recording, the vision of what Shinedown is and where it’s going became completely clear. Amaryllis is the manifestation of that vision, the centerpiece of what Shinedown is. It reflects on everything we’ve done and where we’re heading. It’s a message of empowerment, perseverance, and inspiration,” Smith shared.

That message continued in 2015’s Threat to Survival. Smith titled the album after his addictions and, together with his bandmates, produced another spirited collection. “I always say that I write songs because it’s therapy, and that very much held true on the writing of this album,” said Smith.

Threat to Survival is like a response to “Save Me” from Us and Them, countering that song’s rueful sorrow with a persistent “rise above” message bursting from many of its tracks. Smith explained that the hit single “Cut the Cord” is about breaking free of not only drugs but “anything that might wrap itself around you and keep you from becoming the person you truly want to be.”

By this point in the band’s career, their intentions are obvious: Shinedown won’t glorify vice and misery but the opposite. The Threat to Survival period saw Smith emphasizing that anything jeopardizing a flourishing existence must be banished… or else. It was the lesson he had to learn, and he was finally ready to share it with others fully.

Sharing truly becomes caring three years later. Though Threat to Survival’s poppy, electronic-heavy sound disappointed many Shinedown fans, 2018’s Attention Attention took the hard rock world by storm with a satisfying blend of gritty tracks, inspirational hits, and crowd-pleasers. True to Shinedown’s established form, the album touched hearts as it fearlessly forayed into the strongholds of depression, substance abuse, mental “monsters,” and other obstacles encountered during a journey of necessary change.

“It’s a record about not being afraid to fail,” Smith explained. “It’s a record that showcases empathy and humanity, brilliance at times, and devastation at other times. The album is about addressing and understanding failures… We believe that people aren’t defined by their failures.”

Attention Attention‘s all-in inspirational messaging didn’t spawn from nowhere—this was the first album for which Brent Smith didn’t touch a single drink or drug during the writing, recording, and touring processes. Smith confessed, “I was always afraid that I couldn’t write a record clean, you gotta be messed up to write messed up stuff. But I didn’t need it.”

Smith not only didn’t need “it” – he wrote better songs without it. “MONSTERS” poignantly exposes different afflictions we face, from the plunging lows of depression to anxiety’s suffocating highs; “GET UP”, a love letter from Smith to bassist Eric Bass, encourages people trapped in negative cycles to not “sell yourself short”, and to “get a move on” toward recovery; “CREATURES” acknowledges we’re all “creatures of habit”, and “special” reminds us we’re not that different from each other at the end of the day.

With Smith’s addiction finally controlled and Eric Bass’s depression openly acknowledged, Shinedown shifted its gaze to society during the COVID-19 pandemic. The lockdown, a dark and contentious time for many, troubled Shinedown and ignited Planet Zero (2022), their latest album. Horrified by social media’s corruption, government overreach, and America’s ever-widening political schism, Shinedown served a scorching and sympathetic collection aimed at awakening the individual in everyone.

“We’re starting to see society slip into an unknown, and [“No Sleep Tonight”] asks the question: ‘How would you feel if your freedom of speech was completely taken away from you?’” shared Brent Smith. Eric Bass explained that the satirical zinger “The Saints of Violence and Innuendo” swipes at “all the tech companies that have taken it upon themselves to be the arbiters of the First Amendment and what you can and can’t say, what you can and can’t do.”

Planet Zero, both convicting and lovely, blazes new artistic territory for Shinedown. It represents a natural progression for individuals with improved personal lives to begin observing and critiquing external affairs. If the saying, “You can’t love anyone else until you love yourself” holds true, might the same be said of this phrase? “You can’t point out the wrongs around you until addressing what’s wrong within.”

Planet Zero is a firestorm, but it doesn’t fixate solely on negativity. It’s the latest empathetic feather in Shinedown’s cap, balming chapped spirits as “Dysfunctional You” scoops listeners into a hug and “A Symptom of Being Human” assures them that being “slightly awkward, kinda weird” is perfectly normal. As if to confirm Shinedown’s angle all along, Smith said of Planet Zero, “We’ve been discussing mental health for the better part of 20 years; we were talking about it when it wasn’t something that was ever talked about.”

Although Smith admits he’ll always be an addict, his band’s music illustrates an evolving story of resilience and rejecting what harms us in favor of what heals. As members like Smith and Bass traverse the jagged landscapes of their minds, transcribing their findings into song, they continue topping charts, increasing their reach, and—most importantly—stirring hearts and hopes.

Shinedown’s mantra could be, “Do as I sing and do as I do.” Smith wants others to experience what he and his bandmates must remember: “You don’t need to feel embarrassed or ashamed if you need to reach out to someone who can help you. If you can tell something is off, the worst thing you can do is be quiet and not listen to the person. And if you are having those emotions, we don’t want you to be quiet, either.”

Shinedown have never been quiet about their struggles, and they won’t be piping down about them anytime soon. Perhaps, like this emotionally brilliant band, it’s time for everyone else to get loud, too.