Two Feet Talks Growth, Sobriety, and His New EP
For years, platinum recording artist and producer Two Feet, born Bill Dess, was a quiet fixture of alt-pop: a No. 1 Billboard hit with “I Feel Like I’m Drowning,” billions of streams, sold-out rooms, and a following that showed up because the songs felt intimate and, in some instances, extremely raw. Though behind the scenes, things were much heavier than anyone realized.
Success hit quickly, bringing money, attention, and access to things he hadn’t grown up with. In the middle of all that, he’s since shared, addiction started to take over his life, to the point where doctors warned he had only months to live if he didn’t stop. Even with that hanging over him, he kept putting out music and walking onstage.
Nine months ago, Dess chose to live differently and committed to sobriety. His latest project, which dropped on November 14, marks a clean break with the chaos and a return to intention. He describes it as a reset, the sound of a writer-producer clear-headed and working with focus, which you can hear in the way he talks about process now. The release also lands alongside news of a 40-plus date North American headline tour in early 2026 (his first since getting clean), and an opportunity to experience what it means to bring recovery on the road.
Before the official drop, we caught up with Two Feet to talk rebuilding, writing sober, and shaping an evolved second act.
You’ve said this project represents a reset. What did you change about your writing and production habits to earn that feeling?
Two Feet: Well, it’s mostly because I’ve been all messed up since 2018/2019—I recovered a bit from ‘19-‘21 but then fell back into it. But I’ve also totally re-done how I produce. All the percussion is real and recorded from home, real drums, all real instruments. I’m leaving flaws I didn’t use to, I’m not pitch correcting anything whatsoever. I want the records to feel alive. I’m changing the type of chords I use and leaning more into rock/band-oriented sound. I think with AI music now blowing up. It’s important to sound as human as possible.
Early success came fast and loud. When the pace accelerated, what’s something that shifted in your life that you only recognized later?
Two Feet: Everything. A lot of kids had been doing “music” professionally since age 10 with their parents involved, and when they finally pop at 18, they’re basically pros. I truly, absolutely came out of nowhere from the internet and had no idea how anything worked, the business. I’m about as caught up now, at 30-ish years old, as a 20-year-old musical nepo baby who grew up in or around the industry is. We’re tied. My life blew up in front of my eyes, and I think I had to destroy it to grow or learn. To me, my career starts now; that was just a foot in the door.
Nine months in, how has sobriety shifted your relationship to music—and is there a track that captures it?
Two Feet: The easiest way to put that is this: music gives me the chills again. It didn’t while I was drunk. No track captures it on this EP. I’m already done with the second EP out early next year, that gets a bit closer. I’m re-learning to write, I’m regaining the skill wicked fast, but I plan on releasing more music next year than any year in my career. I think by the fall of next year, I’ll randomly write something wonderful that captures it all and sums it up and tells me and all my fans I’m back.
You’ve shared that you kept touring and releasing music while struggling. Looking back, what was something you worked hardest to keep offstage?
Two Feet: This is a crazy question, I love. I was dying. Truly dying. We did shows, propping me up. We did shows where I needed a cane. Where I was super bloated and overweight and shaking. I guess we could hide some things, but not all. The fans could all feel it, I’m sure. In a weird way if you went to any of those shows, you saw something truly beautiful. Human and raw and fucked up and stared into death’s eyes.
Many of the shows were probably awful, but at least they were honest. I forced myself to keep touring despite often having to check into ERs between shows. I needed to remind myself why I should try and stay alive. I needed the shows. My crew all wanted to quit and were so worried, and even felt like they were complicit in me killing myself. That if I died on tour that they would be blamed. I kept journals, indicating it was my decision. I wanted to keep going. Maybe I was hoping I’d collapse. Maybe I wanted fans to see me in pain to punish myself. Maybe I wanted to be forced to get help and was putting myself on stage to force myself into it.
For listeners who identify with where you were a year ago, what’s one practical step they can take today that might help tomorrow?
Two Feet: Listen to recovery stories. Over and over. I listened to so many even as I was blasted drunk and couldn’t walk. I’d crawl to the door to get the alcohol delivery while listening to recovery stories. That’s why I’m being so honest here. Maybe it’ll help
As you plan your 2026 headline run, what aspect of that stage are you most excited about?
Two Feet: Literally to just be with my crew, who are all my friends, and to play music sober. To feel everything. To make someone’s day or night better. To be honest.
