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Ted was something. I've described him as a younger brother. Like he's not me and he's sometimes annoying, but he's family. I feel like I can take him along now and there's no problem.
B
This is life in seven Songs from the San Francisco Standard. I hi, I'm Sophie Bearman. This week I'm speaking with actor and musician Josh Ratner. You might recognize him from shows like Grey's Anatomy, Six Feet under, or Kleischman Is in Trouble. He's written and directed two feature films, starred in countless plays on and off Broadway, but he's best known for his longtime role as Ted Mosby from the Emmy Award winning hit sitcom How I Met yout Mother, a legacy he's been at war with for over the last decade. Just recently, Josh has decided to stop trying to outrun Ted Mosby's shadow. He's even launched a brand new rewatch podcast called How We Made youe Mother. These days, Josh is embracing all the characters that live inside him. Josh Radner, thanks for coming on the show.
A
Thanks for having me. It's good to be here.
B
I heard a little chuckle during that intro. What were you reacting to?
A
Oh, stop being at war with Ted. I think that it's not inaccurate, but it made me laugh.
B
You played the role of Ted Mosby on How I Met yout mother for almost 10 years from 2005 to 2014. You've said it's given you a lot, but it's also taken some things from you as well. Tell me about that.
A
You know, it gave me some creative and financial freedom. It allowed me to become a musician. I don't know if I would have felt as emboldened to take these creative risks and do all these different things. But it also, it's strange from an identity perspective to be collapsed into a person. One of the reasons I wanted to be an actor was I, I wanted to kind of escape the prison of self. You know, I wanted to live other lives and experiment. Like, what would it be like to not be me and step into these other shoes and have these experiences? But then you do something for that long. Like no actor really thinks. Like, I think for a decade I'll be playing one role. Like, it's a very. For me, at least, it gave me a kind of identity vertigo. I didn't like it when people refused to let me be me or refuse to call me by my real name. Like there was something very destabilizing about it. Like when people would say, are you Ted Mosby? This might Sound jerky. But I was a little. Like, I played him. Like, I'm not him. I played him. And I was contractually obligated to say these lines. And anything you loved or disliked about the character, please don't lay it at my feet. It wasn't me. I mean, if you want to get to know me a little bit more, you should listen to my music and the films I directed, because I generated those. Those are the things. I made this. I was more of a hired gun.
B
It's like being defined by who you were in high school or something. Just frozen and not even. Right. A layer removed, because it's not even.
A
Who you were exactly. But that thing of people not wanting to honor where you are right now and wanting you to be a kind of thing where they got to know you and loved you or hated you, whatever.
B
Well, you've mentioned briefly all the different parts of yourself. Musician, director, and we want to talk about all of that, but first, I'm curious about you as a child.
A
Well, I grew up in Columbus, Ohio. I come from a Jewish family. I went to synagogue a lot of weekends, not every weekend. My parents were actively involved. It was a very bookish house in terms of my parents. Like, my dad was on the board of the library. That was kind of. Our big weekly field trip was like, go to the library and get just tons of books. I wouldn't call it, like, a highly literary house. It wasn't like we had to be reading Dickens around the fire or anything. It was just like they wanted us to be readers, so they really encouraged that. There was a lot of music in the house. My mom can sing. My dad cannot. He can't really carry a tune. Although I kind of like his voice in some strange way. But when I think about the. The music in my childhood home, there was vinyl. You know, we had a record player. My parents, years ago, just dropped off the most incredible collection of vinyl at, like, a flea market or thrift store or something without. And I was furious because it was like original sergeant Pepper's original Simon Garfunkel, like, just. It still bothers me, you know, like how they just got rid of that collection.
B
Well, that's a perfect transition to your first song, which is one that was playing a lot in your childhood home. Tell me about this one.
A
There was a broad array of music going on in my house. There was a feeling of great 60s and 70s songwriters. Bob Dylan, Jim Croce was very big in our house. But my mom just always loved John Denver. You know, Annie's song and thank God I'm a Country Boy and Rocky Mountain High, and I played all three of them to kind of, like, figure out which one lights me up the most. And for some reason, Rocky Mountain High felt like I just like where it goes. It's like a very simple song, but it also feels like you can feel the outside. Like, it almost feels like it was recorded on a mountain or something. Like, you can feel the spaciousness in it.
C
The Colorado Rocky Mountain High I've seen it raining fire in the sky.
A
A.
C
Shadow from the starlight Is softer than a lullaby Rocking down from high Next.
B
On your list is Respect by Aretha Franklin. And funny enough, this song is associated with a kind of coming of age story for you. Can you tell me that story?
A
Well, first of all, I just. I think it's maybe like, the best song ever written. It's impossible, I think, to hear that song and not have your spirit lifted. Like, her voice, the urgency of it, the demand of it. I just find it to be a thrilling song. But it was a song that my older sister and I, Melanie, we just both really loved the song. And I was. I was a competitive swimmer when I was young. All my sisters and I were. And we were at the Maccabee Youth Games, which is kind of like the Jewish kid Olympics, which is not, you know, it's not like real Olympics. It was like Jewish kid Olympics. And I must have been in, like, sixth grade or something. And I really. I had. I had such eyes for this gymnast from Los Angeles. And one night we ended up kind of talking alone, and we had what I think was a kiss. But it might have been like a half kiss. It might have been like a hug where my lips caught the edge of her lips. And I went back to the dorm, and for some reason on my way back, I just started singing that song to myself because it felt like a celebratory moment. And when I got back there, I guess Melanie, my sister, and some of her friends had seen me with her or knew that I had peeled off with her, and they asked me what happened, and all I did was sing this song with this big, stupid grin on my face. You know, when you're that age, the idea that your lips would get close to another girl's lips is just, like, astonishing. But for some reason, I always associate that with my, like, first almost kiss. I think I got closer than I had ever gotten before. And that was the song that got emblazoned in my mind from it.
C
Baby, I got what you need to you know I got it, too. All I'm asking you Just a little bit hey, baby Just a little bit Just a little bit.
A
I just thought of something listening to that. There's something about her voice that is so ragged and raw and full of experience and somewhat exhaustion, but, like, indomitable spirit. Like, that's what I hear in when she sings. And there's something so funny about me appropriating that as, like, a sixth grader, using that as the song when I am. I couldn't have been more innocent and lacking in experience. But it's kind of like there was something about that song I just kind of took as, like, my initiatory song into some other world.
B
Do you know where that girl is today?
A
I don't, but she was an incredible gymnast. I do remember that.
B
I love it. I also love this image of your sister just seeing that goofy smile on your face and, like, knowing, right?
A
And we were. We were now, like, best friends, but we were pretty adversarial at that point. And I think there was something about my goofiness and my irrepressible happiness that thawed something between us, maybe.
B
So far, you've described pretty easygoing childhood. I think I read maybe on your substack some mention of tougher moments in childhood, like things where you felt misunderstood. Can you elaborate on that a little bit?
A
It was a relatively stable childhood. But I've also, as I look back and consider maybe having a family of my own. You know, you're always kind of looking at your parents going, well, I'm going to take this, but I'm letting this go. You know, my parents, in each of their own ways, had some tough things in their childhood, and they were. They wanted us to have, like, a happy house. But in some ways, they banished some of the darker things, like, anger wasn't quite permitted. They didn't want you to be sad for that long. You know, I have a joke that when my parents said, we just want you to be happy, what they really meant was, we just want you to be happy. Like, they really wanted you to not linger too long. So I had to kind of go out and get some remedial work. In feeling things. One of the reasons I think I was attracted to acting in the theater was it allowed me to experience emotions that I couldn't quite experience in my childhood home, but that were. I was applauded, you know, in a fictional context. Like, there wasn't allowed a lot of screaming in my childhood home. But if I did a David Mamet play And had to scream. Everyone stood up and cheered.
B
Were you like a theater kid, you know, in quotes?
A
I wasn't. But my friend Debbie Shell, who was in my grade, really wanted to audition for the chorus of Oklahoma. So she asked me to come sit with her and keep her company. Cause she was nervous. So I was sitting in the auditorium and I was watching all these people get up and sing a coup couple bars of a song and read some scenes. And something in me said, I think I could do this just as well, if not better than these people. And then the director or the choreographer pointed at me, said, are you gonna audition? And the next thing I knew, I was on stage and I was reading. And then I got one of the leads in Oklahoma. This part, Will Parker, this great part. And my sister got this other great part, Ann Eller. But she was like this little jerk. My little jerk brother just stumbles in and gets one of the leads. And I had to work my way up. But there's this moment where Aunt Eller and Will, he picks her up off a barrel of hay and starts dancing with her. And so when I picked my sister up and we started dancing around the stage, the whole school erupted in cheers because they knew we were brother and sister. And they thought it was really funny. I remember it as a watershed moment, like, oh, they know who I am, they know who my sister is. They know we're brother and sister. And I felt really seen in a. In a really nice way.
B
So that was your first foray into acting and you continued to act in school. And I was surprised to read that your school actually did a production of Cabaret.
A
Yeah.
B
Which is quite risque. And you got the role of the emcee, which is a huge role. Why was that role so formative for you?
A
Something about that role lit something up in me and turned some light on inside me that said, oh, I want to keep doing this. I want to keep doing this. And I took out the CD from the Bexley Library. And whenever my house was empty, I had like a rehearsal cane. And I was just like a 16 year old madman just dancing around the house, singing at the top of my lungs, figuring out how my body worked in this kind of show busy way. And my whole performance was basically just a ripoff of Joel Gray. I don't know that I did anything all that original, but I did the opening song called Vilkomen, where the MC welcomes the audience, the fake audience in the Kit Kat Club, and the real audience sitting in the theater. It's one of the great opening numbers in any musical, I think there's a sinister undertone to it because it promises lightness and not a care in the world, but underneath is this encroaching fascism. And when I think about doing that play all those years ago, this is the song that, for some reason, looms largest.
B
Do you remember any of the words or lyrics off the top of your head?
A
Sure. Vilkomen, bienvenue welcome, stranger Glucklich zusean Je suis en chante Happy to see you Bleibe reste stay.
C
Welcome Im cabaret au.
B
Cabaret du cabaret.
A
My guidance counselor, she came up to me after the Saturday show, and she said, you need to see me first thing in the morning on Monday. So I came in before homeroom. We're sitting there, and she said, I'm going to say something to you, and I really wanted to hear me. She said, you are never to stop acting. And even if you become a lawyer, I want you to do community theater. Will you promise me you're never going to stop? And I said, okay. And she died very tragically about a year later. And I think about her a lot because I heeded her advice. You know, I never stopped.
B
How did your parents feel about you getting more and more into theater?
A
I think they knew that I was lit up by it, and they knew I wanted to do more of it. And then when I was applying to college, my dad's only rule was, he said, you got to get a liberal arts education. I don't want you just studying theater. I don't want you to get a bfa. And I ended up going to this school, Kenyon College, where he actually went. But they happened to have a really great theater department. Paul Newman went there. Allison Janney went there. Like, so I kind of got to please my father while also charting my own course in this thing that I was really drawn to. And midway or towards the end of my sophomore year, I declared a drama major.
B
And by that point, parents were okay with it.
A
No, I wouldn't say that. I mean, I think my mom was quietly in my corner. It was an ongoing, protracted negotiation with my dad especially. I think he just kept realizing, like, oh, he's taking this incredibly seriously. This is not a hobby he's flirting with and is going to lose interest in.
B
What does your dad have to say now?
A
You know, my dad said something to me years ago that was really meaningful to me. He said, we're different. Like, you're an artist. You know, my dad's actually. He's artistic He's a great sculptor, but I don't think he'd call himself an artist, like in his bloodstream or DNA. I think he recognizes that I'm an artist and I was going to be miserable if I didn't live a creative life. And there was something very meaningful about that to me because it. I think I was always worried that he was alarmed that I didn't choose his life. But he's thrilled. He knows that for me, I made the right choice. And it wouldn't have been the right choice for him, but for me it was. And I think he's really pleased.
B
Your next song is tied to those college years. It's All I Want from Joni Mitchell's album Blue.
A
Yeah.
B
So tell me why you picked this particular song.
A
I remember my senior year. It was one of those albums that got so entirely under my skin, it felt like I was constitutionally incapable of not hearing it. So I carried the CD around with me, and whoever room I was in, I would demand that they play the album. Luckily, it's genius and it's always stayed with me as, like an all timer. That album. I chose the first track, All I Want, which is just a song I adore, but it feels like my senior year of college to me.
C
I am on a lonely road and I am traveling traveling, traveling, traveling Looking for something what can it be? Oh, I hate you some I hate you some I love you some oh.
A
I love you I just love the idea of I hate you some I hate you some I love you some Even the line about, like, I want to shampoo you. The whole thing felt like what? Like. Like just insanely cool. Just like being invited into the VIP section of Human Emotion.
B
That's the perfect song for being on this precipice of so much change.
A
Yeah. I was very scared of adulthood. I was very scared of what do I do without a dining hall? What do I do without all my friends on this little hilltop in Ohio? And I think Joni Mitchell was saying something that felt more complicated. That album, it felt like a kind of Rosetta Stone about adulthood. Like a sneak peek at what adulthood might feel like. That there was something like scary and heartbreaking and triumphant and fun.
B
It's time for a quick break. When we come back, Josh heads into the real world of acting with all of its highs and lows. Stay with us. So eventually you graduate and go on to study theater at nyu, but what happens after that? I imagine you start auditioning.
A
Yeah. Yeah. I always found something disheartening about walking into an audition room, and there's just like 12 guys dressed the same as you, same hair color, same build. And you think, like, I just never liked that feeling of being fungible or just like one of many. I think that was impetus to distinguish myself. You know, I didn't want to give up, but I needed to get through that period where I felt like just another actor. Like, I really worked hard. You'd get close to things. You'd have some humiliating auditions where you were like, I can't believe that's the best I had that day. And also, there's a lot of heartbreak because some things you really want, you don't get. I think a lot of actors, like, no matter what your theology, you end up having somewhat of a spiritual belief around it because you realize the roles that are yours, you're gonna get, and the roles that aren't yours, you're not gonna get. And you just have to make peace with that.
B
Did you choose any music for this era of your life?
A
Yeah, actually. So this would be late 20s. This is pre how I met your mother. Like, this is. This is kind of on the doorstep of how I met your mother. I had my first very serious relationship in my twenties with an actress who I'm still friends with. She's lovely. But we were together for about three years. We had gone back and forth between New York and Ellis. She's the one who really introduced me to Los Angeles. And at the time, on kcrw, the NPR outlet out in Los Angeles, there was a great morning program called Morning Becomes Eclectic, hosted by this guy, Nick Harcourt. And he would have these incredible live sets in the 11 o' clock hour of any artists or bands coming through town. And I heard Damian Rice do a live set that was maybe in the early spring. But then we broke up and I went back to New York and I went into a bit of a depression. And I found the import of Damien Rice's O, this album that was not available in the States yet. It was something like $38 at Virgin Megastore on Union Square. It was really expensive at the. But I bought it. And for some reason, the opening track, delicate, is the one I probably return to the most. And I actually really like playing it myself. It's just a really simple, but a heartbreaking opener from the only.
C
Place you've known.
B
How would you listen to that album? Like Walking around or.
A
Yeah, I'd listen to it Walking Around. I mean, I had it on all the time. Like, truly all the time. And I also had, like, a first generation iPod. So I have very strong memories of walking around New York City, walking by the river. And it was just like Joni Mitchell. It was just the only music I could bear listening to. And I listened to this music so much. I would approach anyone on the street and be like, you gotta hear this. Like, I was. I became an evangelist for this record. I just thought it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever heard. And I was also going through my first legitimate heartbreak. So it was soundtracking my life in a sentimental and possibly annoying way. But for the time at least, I needed it.
B
So you mentioned that that music is kind of on the precipice of How I Met yout Mother. So let's go there. Huge role. Did a lot for your career.
A
Of course, I've talked quite a bit about this, but I think that the first two seasons of How I Met yout Mother were incredibly destabilizing and strange. And I was excited that all this stuff was happening. But I also had some imposter syndrome. And beyond that, I was uncomfortable with the erosion of my anonymity. The rest of the cast was a little more acclimated to it. A lot of them had had big shows on before, but this was really my first experience with that. So I was really looking for something that felt very meaningful and deep. And it had nothing to do with show business or Hollywood or television. And I ended up, through a series of twists and turns, going to South America a bunch and starting to work with ayahuasca, which is this plant medicine teacher liquid thing, which a lot of people probably know about it now. But this was 2007, so this was early. And I ended up kind of pairing How I Met your Mother with this psychedelic journey that I was on in my 30s. I was never like a druggie person. I did mushrooms once or twice in my 20s and had really powerful experiences with it. But I was trying to get into an almost bigger cosmic space than just show business, which was starting to feel claustrophobic. So I did a lot of ayahuasca while I was on How I Met yout Mother. And it was a very strange but also, like, balancing act for me. It actually helped me stay centered and not be so rocked by the currents of fame and visibility and who's up, who's down, all that nonsense that was really hard for my ego to bear. At least. The first time that I re engaged with psychedelics was in Santa Cruz with some friends from this community. And we did two nights of mushroom ceremonies. My friend John Made this incredible playlist and I think I had actually turned him onto this song. There's an album of songs about Tara, who's a Buddhist goddess. And the final song is this gorgeous song. It's just called Tara. That song came on kind of towards the end of one of these journeys, but it wasn't like the end. The medicine was really strong and it was really beautiful. But I remember dancing around to this song and I had this image of myself in front of people sharing songs that felt very real. It felt like half prophetic or something. Like you can do this, you can write songs, you can play them in front of people. And this song has a. It's kind of a three act structure and it's very long. So if you can sit with it and listen to it all the way through, it's got. It starts very slow and it erupts in the third act into something I think is really thrilling and triumphant. And it's just an important song to me.
B
This is Tara by. I might butcher the name.
A
I don't know how to pronounce it either.
B
Great. Dechen Shak Dagsay. Well, I'll look into that.
A
Dechen Shak Dagsay, I think is good.
B
Does it just take you right back to dancing in Santa Cruz?
A
It totally does, yeah. Yeah, it was quite profound. It's hard to explain. I've never really told that story publicly because it. I. I sometimes feel like talking about something that happens on psychedelics is a little like talking about what happened in a dream. And it's really most interesting to you. But it was profound for me and I was attracted to meditation and psychedelics, I think, because I wanted to touch those parts of me that were more patient and more spacious and more capable of love and intimacy. All of which I think scared me as a young man. But I did a lot of work because I knew that a life without those things would have felt impoverished.
B
So you had this kind of psychedelic vision of yourself performing music for people, which you're doing now. But how did you first start pursuing music after that experience?
A
Yeah, it's so interesting. I don't know that I would have been a musician without How I Met yout Mother. Because one day one of the co creators of the show said, do you know the musician Ben Lee? And I said, yeah, yeah, I like him a lot. I think his music is great. And he said he's coming to set. So I got very excited. I was like the musical guy on set. Like I was always making playlists for everyone and CDs and stuff. So Ben and I connected and I remember we just stayed after we were done shooting, we just stayed and talked for a really long time and we just were friends for about a decade. He liked my writing and he said, I think you'd be a great lyricist and let's write a song. And he taught me all about song structure and chord voicings and rhythm and lyric writing. We toured a ton and I was really thrown into the fire. And it was such a thrill because I was such a music fan, but I thought songwriting was some weird superpower. And I thought you had to start when you were super young and I thought you had to have a band in your parents garage when you were 15 or you weren't a legitimate musician. But I just really love storytelling, but I love telling a story atop beautiful music. I still think of it as storytelling. It's just like a three minute story or a four minute story versus a 90 minute story or a nine year story.
B
I guess as we're talking about all this, a bigger question that comes to mind is what are you trying to say with your music?
A
I don't know that I have an overarching message. I mean, I guess if I was to take a swing at it. I have a song on my first record, first volume of eulogy, called Joshua 45:46. And it's about me turning 46 years old. And I say I started writing songs when I was just north of 40. I try to write some every day. I wish that I had started sometime in the 90s, but I'm not sure I have much to say. It used to drive me crazy when older people, especially my parents, say, well, when you're our age you'll understand. But there's real truth to it. There are things you understand at 40, at 50, that you simply are not accessible to at 16 or 21. I think my songwriting is a little bit of a pep talk to myself and whoever cares to pull up a seat around the campfire, that aging is okay and it's good. And I'm interested in second half of life wisdom. My wife Jordana, who's a psychologist, one thing she'll say to her patients sometimes is, what would your 85 year old self say to you? She says. Often it says, don't worry about it. This is not a big deal, you know, because when you, when you have that vantage point, your concerns at 35, 45, like they're not going to be as big a deal. When you, when you have the larger.
B
Perspective, I'M curious, how did you meet your wife?
A
Well, I'm going to sound like a real druggie, but we met at a psychedelic sound ceremony.
B
Great.
A
I was in Nashville recording eulogy and my friend Jacob said, I really want you to come up to upstate New York for this ceremony. There's gonna be a lot of people I love there. And I went up to upstate New York and there was my wife. I mean, I didn't know at the time, although I had a sense that she was someone that was gonna be in my life. But we met that weekend and we've just kind of been together ever since.
B
You got married in 2024 and I assume you were planning a winter wedding but not like a blizzard wedding, right? Like this?
A
Yes, we were planning a winter wedding and we got married at this beautiful place called Cedar Lakes Estate. And we said, is it crazy to get married outside? And they said, no, everyone who gets married in the winter here gets married outside. We do hot chocolate, we'll do hot toddies. It's going to be great. And then there was snow forecasted for the weekend. And they said, we can pivot inside if you let us know by 1pm but at 1pm there was no snow. So we said, you know what, if it's a light dusting of snow, it'll probably be so beautiful. Let's just go for it. At 2:30 it starts snowing. And it is not a light dusting. Like, it is like. It's like a proper snow fall dump. And it kept coming down. And by the time we got married at like 4:30 or 5, it was just. But it was, you know, it was beautiful. Like the lights, the magical. It was magical, but it was also like the guests were sitting out in the snow for 20 minutes and then everyone got to go in around this big fire and have hors d' oeuvres with jazz. So people have told us, you know, it's hard to have a wedding that's memorable because they hit a lot of the similar notes and they said, no one who was at your wedding will forget it. But considering the extraordinary circumstances we met under, we said, well, it was a pretty psychedelic wedding.
B
So you described your last song as eternally yoked to your wedding.
A
It's from Fred again and Brian Eno's record that they put out like a year or two ago, two years ago, three or two. I don't remember when it came out, but this track come on in particular, my wife and I just fell in love with it. We were listening to it a lot in the run up to the wedding. And when I hear it, I can't not see images of us and all our friends and family. You know, that week, you know, I didn't get married until now because I was waiting for her. And it's true, you know, that I think there's something. There's our timing, and then there's the universe's timing. And that's kind of a How I Met yout Mother theme, right? Like, Ted had an idea about how his life was supposed to go, and the universe was like, hold it, kid. Not so fast. I wasn't like Ted. I wasn't furiously looking around for my wife at all. In fact, I was maybe the opposite, but. But I was ready. And the right person came along at the right time.
B
And I guess my very last question is, has Ted Mosby taught you anything?
A
Yeah. I mean, there's many ways to answer that question. I think globally, the show teaches one, and me included, something about timing, that life is a negotiation with you and the universe, your own desires, and the probably better timing that the universe has in mind. I think what we're doing here is something like school on some level, that there are lessons to be learned, and we keep getting the same thing thrown at us until we, like, learn a lesson and dissolve it. Ted was something I. It was still irritating me up until recently, but something about it has just really softened. And I. I've described him as a younger brother. Like, he's. He's not me, and he's sometimes annoying, but he's family, so I. I feel like I can take him along now, and there's no problem. I now look back and say, wow, it's a part of something that really influence, like, generations of people. And how cool is that?
B
Well, Josh, thank you so much for sharing your seven songs and your story.
A
It was great to be here, and I love this idea for a podcast. It's. It's challenging to come up with these songs, but it was really fun to walk through all this with you. So thanks for having me.
B
Life in Seven Songs is a production from the San Francisco Standard. If you liked this episode, check out our conversation with the singer songwriter Rufus Wainwright, who, kind of like Josh, is known for one big thing, but has many more sides of himself to share. And if you haven't already, please subscribe. And like the show. It makes a big difference for us. Our senior producer is Jasmine Morris. Our producers are Michelle Lands. She also mixes the show, and Tessa Kramer. Our theme music is by Kate Davis and Zubin Hensler. Clark Miller created our show art and our music consultant is Sarah Tambekschian. Executive producers are Griffin Gaffney, John Steinberg and me. As always, you can find this guest's full playlist at SF News Spotify. You can listen to the full songs there. I'm Sophie Berman. Thank you for listening and see you next time.
Episode: Presenting: Life in Seven Songs with special guest Josh Radnor
Date: September 26, 2025
Host: Josh Radnor and Craig Thomas (featuring interview by Sophie Bearman)
Special Guest: Josh Radnor
This special crossover episode features How I Met Your Mother's Josh Radnor on the podcast "Life in Seven Songs," where he maps out his life story through seven formative tracks. The discussion uses these songs as touchpoints to explore his evolving identity, from growing up in Ohio to the heights (and shadows) of TV stardom, creative experimentation, love, and acceptance—anchored in the enduring legacy and lessons of playing “Ted Mosby.” The episode is reflective, candid, and interwoven with humor, nostalgia, and honest self-appraisal.
This episode offers a moving portrait of Josh Radnor: at once self-aware, appreciative, and honest about his struggles with identity, fame, and creativity. Through seven pivotal songs, he traces not only a history but the inner logic of his life—a search for meaning, authenticity, and connection both on stage and within himself. It’s a celebration of growth, second acts, and the wisdom—the show’s and Radnor’s own—that life happens on its own timeline, and that peace comes from embracing every strange, memorable chapter.