Rick Springfield and Richard Marx muse on hit songs, martinis, their meet-cute and psychedelics

You may not be able to judge a man by his album cover(s), but you can deduce much by his choice in vehicles. Richard Marx and Rick Springfield are living proof. In the driveway of a lushly landscaped home just off the Malibu coast sits a luxury British automobile, rounded, elegant; a smooth-sailing land yacht. Next to it, a sporty, sleek, slightly dangerous 1963 Corvette Sting Ray, and parked on the street, a ‘55 Holden Ute.

Marx is the Bentley guy, Springfield the ‘Vette and utilitarian Australian truck. Friends since the late ’80s, they call each other Dickie (Springfield) and Richie (Marx) and might be the best-looking vaudeville team in history, their humor flow as engaging as their carefully crafted songs and easy charisma.

The pair first performed together on a music cruise in 2009. When Springfield extended the invite for Marx to join him, the latter replied, “f— no.” That said, he went. Apart from the fact that Marx described the ship as “a floating petri dish,” the duo had a blast.

Those good vibes continued — the hit-making, swoon-worthy duo never taking themselves too seriously despite serious songwriting chops and bona fides — for intimate co-headlining solo acoustic performances. As for concrete success markers, each has well over 5 million monthly listeners on Spotify, consequential numbers across wide-ranging careers that included Broadway, film and TV (Springfield) and for Marx, 14 No. 1 singles as a performer and songwriter/producer.

On an overcast Thursday in early October, Springfield’s home is socked-in under a marine layer, but in his backyard gazebo, a cozy fireplace is crackling. Springfield lights incense as the friends banter casually. Marx recently turned 61; Rick is a preternaturally youthful 75. Even in Malibu, a fitter, more talented pair would be hard to find.

Springfield noodles on a small guitar with “the unimportant bits … removed. It’s a travel guitar. A fan gave me this, and I’ve had it for years. I’ve written tons of songs on it. I take it everywhere.”

Let’s begin at the beginning. When was the first time you two met?

Richard Marx: At the Greek Theatre. The origin story is actually really great, because it is one of many examples in my life of manifestation. I’ve consistently manifested people into my path who made a significant impact on me. I moved to L.A. from Chicago in 1982. In 1983, [Springfield] put out an album called “Living in Oz.” I was on the fence about Rick Springfield. I loved “Jessie’s Girl,” like everybody else did, but he was too handsome. He was on a [freaking] soap opera [“General Hospital”]. It was like, “I can’t take this guy seriously, right? I’m a musician.”

Rick Springfield: No, I couldn’t take me seriously either.

Marx: Then I was in Tower Records, and I bought [“Living in Oz”], took it home, and it completely not only changed my opinion of him, but it turned me into a fan of his songwriting. This is way before I had a record deal or anything. I was like, “I had this guy pegged so wrong. He’s a badass.” [I’m a] super fan. Cut to five years later, I’m playing at the Greek, and I’ll never forget, after the show, my tour manager came back and said, “Hey, Rick Springfield and his wife are here. They want to say a quick ‘hi.’ ” I went, “What!?” And we have pictures of it.

Barbara [Porter] and Rick came backstage, and we spent 15 to 20 minutes talking, we exchanged numbers. I called him within a couple of days, and we just started hanging out. We tried writing. We completed a song that we laugh about today.

Am I going to hear that song?

Marx: It’s not great.

Springfield [noodling on the guitar]: No. We’re both great pop songwriters and it amazed us that we couldn’t write a song.

Marx: And we’ve been afraid to try ever since.

Rick, I read that in your native Australia you saw the Beatles. How did that impact you?

Springfield: At the time, Australia was kind of behind the times, so at the show, when the Beatles came on it was like they were from Mars. The hair and the suits, and I remember Cuban heel boots, and they had these guitars that we’d never seen before … and then they started singing. I remember my mouth opening up, and I started screaming, and I didn’t stop until the end of the show. It was totally unexpected. It just leapt out of me. I was screaming with all the girls and all the boys. It was just mind blowing. The one show they taped was the show that I was at. I keep looking for myself in the audience, but I can’t find me. My mom dropped us off, and I went with my brother, he was three years older.

You both came up in the “old school” music business, the record company model, shopping demos, big advances and of course, pre-online anything. These days you don’t even need a record label. What advice would you give a band starting out?

Marx: The good news is, to me, that you don’t need a record label anymore. The bad news is, and this is funny — I’m name-dropping — but David Coverdale texts me funny things all the time; I’ve been friends with him a long time. This morning he sent me a picture of a pair of jeans. And he said, “You know, a lot of people don’t realize what the tiny little pocket that’s inside the pocket is for. That’s where Spotify royalties go.”

I have three sons, all of whom have been trying [a career in music] and have had some tiny degrees of success. My middle son more because he got a Katy Perry cut and he’s featured on some pretty well-streamed tracks. But they can’t make a real living at it, and very few people can. Rick and I are like two of the only artists of our generation, I think, who consistently still write and record new music, because that’s what we love to do. But we know that the world isn’t out there waiting for a new record from us. They want to hear our hits, and we’re lucky enough that we both have a catalog of hits, or else we’d be [screwed].

Richard, your song ”Don’t Mean Nothing” is an indictment of the music biz. Do you dedicate that to anyone?

Springfield: The lyrics are very telling on that song. As an actor, I love the line about, “Love your work, but you’re just not right for the part,” kind of thing.

Marx: “Love your work, babe.” Look, I wrote that song when I was 22. I don’t know how I could have been that cynical at 22 but I had already experienced a year or two of empty promises and the bull— that is this business. I had a chip on my shoulder already, so it felt good to write that, and the truth is that almost 40 years later, it’s still all the same.

I’ve looked at some set lists from your past shows together, which include Richard’s hits “Right Here Waiting,” “Endless Summer Nights” and “Satisfied” and Rick’s including “Don’t Talk to Strangers,” “Affair of the Heart” and “Love Somebody.” How do you decide what to play?

Springfield: This is not the show to say, “I’d like to do my new single now.” There’s a lot of conversation, we joke around; there’s probably as much conversation as there is music. It’s a long show that sometimes goes over two hours.

What are your favorite songs of each other’s?

Springfield: Well, “Right Here Waiting” is one those songs, the “Oh, my God, that’s just perfect, the perfect ballad.” But I love “Hazard” too.

Marx: That’s tricky. I mean, my favorite Rick songs are some of my favorite songs, period. He wrote a song on “Living in Oz” called “Alyson.” It’s one of my all-time favorite songs, and he’s written several that I just hold in such high esteem. But in terms of the hits and the songs that we play, it’s a tie for me between “Jessie’s Girl,” which I just can’t get sick of it. I find myself up there going, “I’m [really] singing ‘Jessie’s Girl’ with Rick Springfield,” even though we’ve been pals like, forever. I still have that [feeling].

Springfield: … We both feel that, because the song takes on its own life. I mean, I’ll be playing, I go, “Wow, yeah, people are really reacting, this is amazing.”

Marx: … And “Affair of the Heart,” I love that.

How do you discover new music?

Springfield: I listen to albums. I go online and download the album. It’s serendipitous, really, how you hear stuff. I read an article, this guy was reviewing “Bang Bang” by Ariana Grande and Jessie J, and I love that song. He didn’t like it, but he said, “You’ve got to hear “Bang Bang Bang” by The Virginmarys. I went online, and that album is [really] unbelievable.

Marx: I’ve found more music through Shazam. One of my favorite acts in the world is this electronic duo, they go by Bob Moses. Neither is named Bob or Moses, but one of them is the son of Jim Vallance, who co-wrote all the Bryan Adams hits.

Springfield: I’ve written a bunch of songs with Jim; he co-wrote a song called “Kristina” with me…

Marx: … which is great. So five, six years ago I was in a restaurant in Aspen, and this piece of music came on, and I had heard it once before. So I Shazamed it. I was like, “Bob Moses, who [is that]?” I listened to the whole record, and then I realized it was Jimmy Vallance. Everything that they’ve put out, I’ve downloaded.

Rick, I didn’t know that Sammy Hagar had written one of my favorites of yours… “I’ve Done Everything for You,” and now you’re in the booze business together.

Springfield: It’s an angry song…

Marx: I’m very jealous that he has an alcohol company. I’m envious, but I want it to do well.

Springfield: You should do Two D— Vodka with me. It would probably limit our audience; I can’t imagine a lot of guys going up to order, saying, “Can you make that Two D—?”

Marx: [Laughs] It could just be D2 or D2D…

Gin or vodka?

Marx: Vodka, for me, Belvedere.

Springfield: Vodka. I’ve cut way back. I don’t drink most of the time during the week. I used to drink all the time. I wouldn’t say I never drink; when we’re on stage, I’ll have a martini and I’ll loosen it up. But at home, I don’t drink anymore. I started drinking early and often but I loved it. I made some bad decisions under alcohol, so that was one of the reasons. … I used to drink way too much, you know? There’d be times when I’d have like, four glasses of wine before I even went on stage.

Marx: I only started drinking at 50, so…

Springfield: He’s got some time to go.

Dirty martinis; yes or no?

Springfield: No, I don’t like it dirty…

Marx: He likes olives, I like a twist. My go-to is lemon. The other day, did I tell you this [to Rick]? Talk about a rebel! I was like, “What if I put orange in my martini?” Bro!!

Springfield: Really?

Marx: Then I was like, “What if I put both?” So I did a little slice of lemon and a little slice of orange, and I gave it to [wife] Daisy Fuentes, and she went, “I just fell more in love with you. Somehow you made the best thing in the world better.”

Both of you have written memoirs. [Rick’s 2010 “Late, Late at Night” and Richard’s “Stories to Tell: A Memoir,” 2021] You laid bare some hard truths. Rick, you speak about suicide attempts and depression.

Springfield: I wrote it in the book because it was part of my life. To leave it out, there would be people going, “Why’d you react like that to that [a situation]?” So I included it, but I made it into a third-person so that I could remove it from myself and talk about what it did to me. And how that depression made me feel as a person that is like an a— who hates me. I thought everyone would talk about all the sex [stuff] in the book. But nobody did. They all talked about the depression because I guess I was one of the first people to really put it out there. It starts out with me trying to commit suicide, which I did at 16. My mom would not accept that. She said, “Oh, that’s not true.” I said, “Mom, it is.” I have to deal with [depression] all the time.

It’s an ongoing struggle.

Springfield: I actually did ketamine recently, which didn’t do anything. But I did psilocybin. Actually, two days ago right here [in the gazebo], and it was amazing. I used to do acid as a kid, but this is different. I’m gonna look into doing microdosing, because it was incredible. It’s not a false thing; a lot of the medicines make you feel kind of false.

It’s more of an “opening” rather than a changing or masking.

Springfield: Exactly. [Excuses himself to take a phone call]

Marx: I can’t recommend it enough. It was transforming for me too. I would add to that, I had similar experience in 2020… [Rick and I] talked about this, we’ve had shared some similar history with [depression]. I was just sort of curious about what that experience [psilocybin] might be like. I’ve only done it once, but I’d like to do it again. I was kind of in a little bit of a dark place, compounded by COVID-19. But what I found, and the reason I recommend it to everyone, is because the overwhelming emotion is gratitude. It’s just grace. Just so much beautiful grace where I can still call on it.

I became newly aware of you thanks to Twitter a few years ago… one journalist commented on how profane you were, in a positive way. But you don’t engage any more.

Marx: Oh yeah. I don’t go near it ever since Elon [Musk] took over. It’s just not anything I want to participate in. Once in a great while somebody reposts like a gig announcement, but in terms of any kind of interaction or personal tweeting, not since he took over. I remember that week, I was like, “Oh, I’m out.”

Social media can be somewhat of an addiction; was it easy for you to quit?

Marx: It was. Well, it’s interesting. I quit that platform because I had an inkling that what has happened was about to happen. I’m so not a fan of Musk. I think he’s just awful, and I really firmly believe that he will end up going to prison. But when I made the decision that I was going to not support that platform because of the ownership, within a week or two, I noticed a slight difference in my temperament and in my peace.

Even though Daisy would make jokes about it, saying, “You know, on Twitter, Richard could literally tell somebody in 11 different creative ways to f— themselves. And then go, “So where are we gonna have dinner?” I didn’t ever get too wrapped up in it. I tried to be clever with the sarcasm. I never went after anybody. I would only respond. I did get a little addicted to the praise. I got a little addicted to people coming up to me on the street or in a restaurant: “Oh, my God, I live for your Twitter! I love when you burn people when you respond to them.” There was a sense of weird pride in it. But since I quit that platform, it’s just much more peaceful.

Springfield and Marx play Nov. 13 in Thousand Oaks; Nov. 14 in Temecula; Nov. 15 in Cerritos; and Nov. 16 in Palm Desert. Tickets: