This content was first published in Golf Journal, a quarterly print publication exclusively for USGA Members. To be among the first to receive Golf Journal and to learn how you can help make golf more open for all, become a USGA Member today.
Ben Haggerty, the American rap artist known globally by his stage name, Macklemore, is Exhibit A that there’s typically more to a person than their public image suggests. Those unfamiliar with Macklemore or his music might see a photo and make a snap judgment – he’s brash, a showman, a self-promoter. Maybe true. You don’t win four Grammys, sell millions of albums and play to packed arenas without at least some of those qualities.
But just as a great golf course shows its true character the more times it is played, an extended conversation with Haggerty reveals so much more about the 40-year-old Seattle native. He is a family man – wife, three kids under age 8. He is an analyzer who talks with reverence about the process of creating music. He is forthcoming about his struggles with drug and alcohol addiction. And he loves his golf. Like, really loves it.
“Golf is a reprieve,” says Haggerty. “It’s a spiritual practice. It’s one of acceptance – wherever the ball lands, you’ve got to play it. It mirrors life beautifully.” Spoken like a true lyricist.
When did you first know that you wanted to write and produce music?
I wanted to be on a stage from the time I can remember, maybe 5 years old. The living room was my venue, the kitchen table was my stage, and family members were my audience. When I was about 15, I said to myself, I can’t breakdance, I’m getting in trouble writing graffiti. Let’s try rapping.
You grew up in Seattle, the home of grunge, but embraced hip hop and rap. What was the scene like when you were starting out?
The scene was super small, very insular. It pretty much consisted only of people who were a part of hip-hop culture. My mentor, Jonathan Moore, gave us our first show at the Sit & Spin – a legendary spot that doubled as a music venue and laundromat. We were 15 and we brought out all of our friends, maybe 75 or 100 people, which was a lot back then.
What do you point to as your first big break or the moment when you had the sense you were going to be successful?
The first one was a song that I wrote called “Welcome to MySpace.” The creator of MySpace posted the song or sent it out to his people, and all of a sudden I had, like, tens of thousands of emails. I had no idea what happened. But then it kind of stopped. Over the next five years, it was a series of different records that started to resonate. “Otherside” was one of the personal records that touched people who had firsthand knowledge of addiction. And then of course, a little record called “Thrift Shop” [which won a Grammy in 2014].
What’s the origin of your stage name?
It came in high school. I was actually going to thrift shops and buying old golf clothes – who knew? I would dress up in these crazy tartan pants and weird V-neck sweaters, and I would call myself Professor Macklemore. Then I dropped the Professor and stuck with Macklemore.
Even after all these years of touring, do you still get a thrill from performing in front of large audiences?
Oh, completely. That has never changed. It’s more than a rush, it’s a connection. We spend so many hours in the studio making these songs, so when the songs are released into the world, they’re not ours anymore – they’re the people’s. And the celebration is getting to tour around the world and have those people sing songs back to you, or with you. That’s what I find most fulfillment and meaning in.
How do your fans inspire you, and how do you think you inspire them?
The fans remind me of what’s important. It’s easy to lose sight of that when you’re rolling out content or paying attention to TikTok or stuff like that. All that distracts from the original intention, which is to make music from the heart, to be a conduit, to realize it’s bigger than myself. And the fans, when I’m in front of them and connected, they remind me of that.
You’ve won Grammys, sold millions of records, achieved worldwide fame. What keeps you motivated?
I still love writing. I still love telling stories. I love putting together the puzzle that is creativity, pulling something out of thin air, catching that inspiration. The magic still astounds me when it all connects. As long as that’s there, and as long as that music brings me and the people who listen to it meaning, then I’m going to continue.
When did you first get into golf?
Initially, back when Tiger started to win majors in the late 1990s. But my golf at that point consisted of a local par-3 muni course in Seattle, where I’d rent a wedge and putter. I got a taste of it then, but it wasn’t until four years ago that I got taken out by my manager, my best friend and his dad, and I hit a 5-iron out of a fairway bunker – and I pured it. I felt this physical sensation and this rush of dopamine, and I said I want that feeling again. I’ve been chasing it ever since.
What does golf do for you from a physical and mental health perspective?
Golf is a reprieve. It’s a spiritual practice. It’s one of acceptance – wherever the ball lands, you’ve got to play it. It’s like… quit the swing thoughts; train the mind; relax the grip. The intention is to be present. The intention is the shot that’s right in front of you. You can’t get the ones back from before. You haven’t played the holes ahead yet. You can’t predict when the breakthrough is going to happen, or the collapse. It mirrors life beautifully. And I love that process.
How is golf fashion evolving with the brand you launched, Bogey Boys? How would you describe your personal golf style?
It started with me going into a sporting goods store shortly after I got into the game and realizing that no clothing there really spoke to me. I’ve always loved fashion and design. I’ve always had my hand in all the merchandise we do under the Macklemore umbrella. And I thought, you know, there might be a lane here – a creative outlet that might resonate. The first day we dropped it, I was like, OK, I wasn’t wrong.
How do you balance your family life and work life?
It’s challenging. There are seasons where there’s been a lack of balance, and that’s when I get thrown off. I’m learning to do it as I go. It’s challenging with three kids, even coming to the U.S. Open (at The Los Angeles Country Club) for 3 days, and my daughter is crying and grabbing my leg saying, “Don’t go.” Daddy’s gone again, and that’s hard. I’m figuring it out.
You turned 40 this year. How do you approach milestones in life?
It’s important to revel in the moment and to be present in what you’ve worked so hard for. There’s not a lot of reflection time, and creating time to reflect is important. I don’t want to look back someday and think, “Man, that was really dope, and I didn’t even take it in.” I spent a lot of my early years of success in the music industry not really being able to appreciate what was right in front of me.
What is something most people don’t know about you that you’d want them to know?
I’m just like everybody else. I have a career that I never imagined was possible and a platform that I didn’t think was achievable, but at the core of it all, what I look for is the same thing that everyone else is searching for: Fulfillment. I’m better when I’m in service to others rather than thinking about myself. This isn’t a linear path. The ups and downs happen for all of us. The fear, the insecurities, the triumphs, the moments of joy, they’re all the same. It’s just a different stage. But that human connection remains the same.
What has your battle with substance abuse taught you?
I absolutely have to think about it every day. I wake up with the untreated disease of addiction, and if I don’t think about it every day it means that the disease is active. I made the choice when I first went to rehab in 2008 to be public about what it was. I don’t even think we called it a disease at that time; it definitely wasn’t a widespread topic of conversation. It was something that we as a society swept under the rug and didn’t really talk about because of the stigma attached to it. We’ve made a lot of strides since then. There’s been a lot of progress made, and there’s a long way to go. I think that when we speak about our stories and we’re open and honest, it gives others the courage to do the same. The disease grows and festers rapidly in isolation. Tell the truth, shame the devil, help someone else, tell my story, listen to others, and one day at a time we recover.