Anxious Man Starts Podcast, Makes History
In 2009, Marc Maron was in a dark place. Twice divorced, with his radio show canceled and his comedy career at a dead end, he started a podcast. It wasn’t a money-making venture, but a desperate attempt to sustain his show and stay in show business by latching onto a completely new and uncertain medium.
Sixteen years and nearly 1,700 episodes later, WTF With Marc Maron ended this week and leaves quite a legacy. First, Maron stands as one of the founding “podfathers” of the medium, having pioneered a business model and a conversational format that proved perfectly suited to audio. Even as many—if not most—top podcasts embraced video, Maron resisted, arguing (correctly) that it would undermine the intimacy and depth of the conversation. Second, and perhaps more enduring, is the archive itself: a body of work that quietly became one of the most significant oral history projects in 21st-century American popular culture.
While Maron’s 2015 interview with Barack Obama put WTF on a hyper trajectory of awareness and growth (he appropriately interviewed him again in the final episode this week), the president was actually something of an off-brand outlier. From the beginning, the podcast focused less on power and celebrity than on artists, starting with Maron’s friends and peers in the comedy world. Over time, the guest list expanded, but the focus stayed consistent. Even as household names came through while promoting a new film, show, book, or album, Maron continued to feature up-and-coming comics and lesser-known creatives. And while most guests were technically “on the junket,” the projects they were there to plug generally only came up in the context of a larger, life-spanning conversation.
I’ve written before about the importance of oral histories, and that’s what drew me to WTF. Over thousands of hours, Maron developed a rare skill for coaxing out full, lived stories. He’s in the lineage of Dick Cavett or Charlie Rose, but his style was more vulnerable and more peer-to-peer. That’s likely because he never saw himself as a journalist interviewing an artist. He was a fellow human being and artist talking to another human being and artist. And over the course of its 16-year run—remarkably, WTF never missed a Monday or Thursday episode—the podcast made Maron a better human being and artist. His personal growth and maturation were evident, as was his confidence and ambition as an artist. Now in his early 60s, Maron’s career is blossoming when many have far passed their apex. He’s acted in film and television, published books, performs regularly in a band, and is preparing to direct a feature film. In many ways, he has done what most of his guests have done.
While I was drawn to WTF for its candid and distinct interviews, for many listeners, the main attraction was Marc Maron himself. Manic, anxious, intense, angry, funny, and fiercely self-aware, Maron wore his emotions on his sleeve. He spoke openly about his struggles with addiction, body dysmorphia, depression, fear, insecurity, jealousy, and panic attacks. He shared whatever was happening in his life—from new acting gigs and stand-up routines to the absurd realities of caring for his cats, to the profound grief of losing his partner, filmmaker Lynn Shelton, to cancer in 2020. I wasn’t a diehard listener, but I understood that for many in Maron’s audience, WTF wasn’t just a podcast. It was a kind of community. For some, it was something much more: a lifeline. There are listeners who credit the show—and Maron’s honesty—with helping them stay sober and alive.
For all of us, WTF leaves behind an extraordinary archive: more than 1,500 episodes of deeply human conversations with some of the most interesting artists of our time. (Maron rarely had the same guest twice.) If you’re curious and want to check them out, I’d recommend the recent episode curated by Judd Apatow, which pulls together some of his favorite moments from the show. As a cultural document, WTF is a reminder that sometimes the most lasting legacies come not from institutions, but from individuals willing to speak honestly into a microphone and try something new. And, in doing so, invented a new platform, a new business model, and a new way to connect.