Marc Maron Retiring Means Podcasting’s Golden Era Is Officially Over

This is an edition of the newsletter Pulling Weeds With Chris Black, in which the columnist weighs in on hot topics in culture. Sign up here to get it in your inbox every Thursday.

Last week, Marc Maron announced that he would be ending WTF with Marc Maron, the long-running and wildly popular podcast he’s been hosting since 2009. Podcasting has become an insufferable minefield of conspiracy-theorist protein bros, self-appointed self-help gurus, celebrities trying to cash in, true-crime schlock, and dry-as-toast news shows. The landscape has changed, and as the man himself pointed out earlier this week, these days the medium is frequently not a force for good. But Maron—who has been doing it the right way, even if that means making less money—should be walking away from the garage with his head held high.

I have clear memories of being addicted to OxyContin and listening to hours and hours of podcasts every day. They kept me company as I melted into the beige couch on the fourth floor in my TriBeCa living room. I would sit in my purple NYU basketball shorts, wired headphones in, bottled water within reach, and just let them play. It was the golden age of the medium. The Champs (groundbreaking and underrated), Reply All, the Bret Easton Ellis Podcast, and Bill Burr’s Monday Morning Podcast were all in heavy rotation. It felt better than turning on the television in the early afternoon and required less effort than reading a book or magazine; it was the perfect way to stay engaged (while nodding off) between sending emails and using Twitter.

Maron played a big part in this time in my life. Incredibly, his boomer attitudes and love of cats didn’t rub me the wrong way, and I only had to fast forward through the intros occasionally. I realize now that this was some of the first real public talk I had heard about sobriety; it was a massive part of his story, and it often came up with his guests. Of course, they traded war stories, but they also normalized it and got pretty open, an approach that stuck with me, even if subconsciously.

Sure, he got a sitting U.S. President, Barack Obama, to come to his garage. But when I think about this show’s greatest interviews I think of Maron and Louis CK unpacking why their friendship dissolved, or David Spade telling an insane story about his personal assistant attacking him in his own home. The through line of Saturday Night Live and Maron’s fascination (slash obsession) with Lorne Michaels, Norm MacDonald’s earnestness, Mavis Staples, Larry King, Paul Thomas Anderson, Courtney Love, and William Shatner were all memorable for different reasons. I could go on; the list of episodes worth listening to is quite long.

Podcasting is a format that people latch on to; you become part of their lives. Speaking freely about your own life, relationships, addiction issues, and grocery store preferences are what people stick around for. We joke about Maron on How Long Gone all the time (“Who were your guys?”), and anyone who has listened for one second knows about his strained family dynamic, and as grating as that becomes, it’s why he has been so popular for so long. He changed on the mic; he went through real trials and tribulations and shared them with all of us.

I haven’t listened to the show seriously in years, but Maron undoubtedly paved the way for people like me, and anyone else who fires up the mic to talk to a buddy or someone you really respect and puts it out for people to love or hate. I am happy never to hear “Lock the gates!” or one of his tasty pre-interview blues licks ever again, but Maron was a pro, and I have to respect it. I’m not sure if I would embarrass myself on the mic three times a week if I didn’t clock those formative hours listening to WTF.