In 1996, Duncan Sheik released a song called “Barely Breathing.” It became a Top 20 hit, earned him a Grammy nomination, and established him as a pop star. But it turned out that pop stardom came at a price.
When I spoke with Duncan in 2020, he told me that “Barely Breathing” had been an outlier on his debut album. But the song became his identity, and he found himself struggling to reclaim control over how the world perceived him.
His response was to make increasingly adventurous records. One of them, Phantom Moon, featured poetry by playwright Steven Sater and elaborate woodwind arrangements.
It didn't produce another pop hit. But his collaboration with Sater did produce something else unexpected. In 2006, Sheik and Sater brought Spring Awakening to Broadway, a rock musical that challenged the conventions of the form and went on to win eight Tony Awards.
The pop star had become a Broadway composer. And somewhere along the way, Sheik began to recognize something that he'd actually studied years earlier at Brown University. The French literary theorist Roland Barthes called it the death of the author: the idea that once you release a work into the world, you no longer control what it means.
When we spoke, the pandemic had brought live theater to a standstill. Duncan was spending time with his young daughter and experimenting in his studio, making music without deadlines or any particular destination in mind.
After years of struggling with the expectations that came with success, he was rediscovering the simple pleasure of making music.
Duncan Sheik died on September 17, 2026 at the age of 56.
Revisiting our conversation now, I’m struck by the breadth of his curiosity and the thoughtfulness with which he approached both music and life. It offers a glimpse into the mind of a singular artist whose creative journey was never quite what anyone might have expected. He will be missed.
You can see and hear the full Third Story podcast conversation with Duncan Sheik here
