Nick Drake’s Brain 

It made him a romantic storyteller and unique creative music expressionist. He lived his life like no other and died not by his hand but by careless healthcare. 

Dr. Philip Maffetone 

We all have unique brains. This is what makes each of us who we are. We all also have injured brains. It usually happens inadvertently; sometimes it can occur unnoticeably before birth or any time afterwards, and from reasons most would never consider. 

Most of us adapt in some fashion, for better or worse. Nick Drake’s brain followed both paths. He was an English singer songwriter whose work in the late 1960s and 70s influenced many more popular artists, including Peter Buck of REM, The Dream Academy, Kate Bush, and Aimee Mann. It’s important to write about Nick’s brain because it was the source of his songs. 

Nick died in 1974 at the age of 26 from an overdose of a prescription antidepressant. He never achieved great acclaim in his lifetime, but one of his songs hit the Billboard Hot 100 in 1999, and an article in The Atlantic in 2014 shed even more light on his genius. Today, he has nearly 2 million monthly listeners on Spotify. 

Brain injuries can sometimes result in wildly ranging behaviors. This can be likened to a coin—one side is ripped with various manners of mental pain and anguish, the other side with remarkable creative expression. I won’t dwell on the negative here, as I am more interested in the legacy of Nick’s music and what it means for others. 

A better understanding of how Nick’s brain worked could help all of us better understand ourselves, and literally expand our own minds. It also may allow us to experience more of his legacy, and his music, in a brighter light. It seems Nick recognized his creative talent, and the accompanying quirkiness, eclectic self-venturing, and aberrant behavior. “Helplessly strong” was how someone close described him. 

Individual brains adapt to life in different ways. Some fall outside the so-called norm in doing so and may be viewed by peers as rather odd and sometimes difficult. Many clinicians and scientists see the same situation as a neurodevelopmental disorder. Some individuals who are characterized by social difficulties and inappropriate behaviors may be considered as having a brain injury called autism spectrum of disorder. On one end are young people unable to cope with life, and who require constant intensive care, and on the other, individuals exhibit more mild features of oddness and uncomfortable social situations. 

It seems evident that Nick Drake’s brain was somewhere on this spectrum. 

Luckily, like others on the spectrum, those who find music usually find their place in life, albeit on their own terms. This typically involves divergent thinking, and out-of-the-box creativity. Their intense imagination is innovative and inspiring, and often their lone joy in life. Relationships with family, friends, and lovers can’t keep up. Many people on the spectrum become superstars in their fields. Amadeus Mozart appears to be one example. Albert Einstein used his musical passion to complement and even facilitate what he is best known for. 

Nick’s condition was treatable, and the extreme deterioration preventable; sadly, neither occurred effectively, even for the standards of the times. (Similar cases have occurred more recently with the likes of Johnny Cash, Michael Jackson, Prince, and others.) 

Fortunately, Nick Drake’s brain found a way—through music—to adapt to life’s challenges, at least for enough time to allow some of his creativity to flow out. Acclimating to verbal and non-verbal miscommunication still enabled him to write great lyrics thanks to poetic license that gave sound to words, rather than mere figures on a page. And he compensated as best as possible to behavioral and social difficulties. This process of adaptation was the opportunity to joyfully obsess on his craft—his own music therapy. 

Unfortunately, without adequate adaptation and the continued accumulation of stressors, the condition of Nick Drake’s brain would continue to worsen. 

It’s not a stretch to claim that early exposure to music, even before birth, probably extended Nick’s life. Likewise, the love his family had for him. People with brain injuries are often fraught with misdiagnoses, medication use and abuse, and psychotherapy that offers little or no success, or worse. It appeared that Nick tried to tolerate all this the best he could. I can’t help but feel that he wanted his brain to heal itself since his doctors could not do so. 

Early family music influences—a common ingredient in virtually all great musicians— was followed by further study in school and growing up during the mass music explosion of the times. This combination allowed Nick Drake’s brain to accomplish something spectacular. His songs were all his own, and more than special; today they still embody a spectrum of his many personalities creatively expressed. He seemed to ride the wave of life, grasping hold for survival before eventually drowning. 

Still, none of us will ever really know Nick Drake’s brain, save for the music he left us. His songs are all short stories, ones he may or may not have tried to interpret but left for us to elucidate. 

As Nick’s brain fell further into dysfunction, he eventually became withdrawn from everyone. Near the end, it became mentally and physically difficult for him to complete a song in the studio. He had to record the guitar and vocals separately for his last songs, unusual for him. This later music was particularly sad, perhaps calling out for help he knew could not reach him. At age 26 he struggled to sing “. . . growing old and I wanna go home…” His downward spiral spewed various symptoms of painful vicious patterns of impaired behavior until the very end. 

Thus, we are left with the relics of Nick Drake’s brain, something that resides in all of us. The person and the singer-songwriter one and the same. I’ll take it. 

Epilogue 

It’s not easy writing an article that delves into the brain of someone I never met, is no longer living, and who left almost no medical history. But it was clear how frighteningly similar Nick’s story is with familiar cases I’ve had during my career. Combined with public information from Nick’s family, friends, and colleagues, clues about his behavior and creative expressions, especially from his music, it was a process not unlike a Sherlock Holmes mystery. In addition to my healthcare experiences, as a professional singer-songwriter I can relate firsthand to the inner workings of the brain’s personal and deepest creative expressions. 

Dr. Philip Maffetone is a former clinician in the field of human performance, integrating biofeedback, exercise physiology, nutrition, and physiotherapy. He also lectures on topics such as Music and the Brain. For music-related questions or comments he can be reached at his website www.MaffetoneMusic.com or phil@maffetonemusic.com.