Fernando Jaramillo shared their story and experiences with us recently and you can find our conversation below.
Fernando, so good to connect and we’re excited to share your story and insights with our audience. There’s a ton to learn from your story, but let’s start with a warm up before we get into the heart of the interview. What is something outside of work that is bringing you joy lately?
Fatherhood has been the most rewarding journey of my life. I became a father three and a half years ago, and while it comes with immense responsibility, it’s also filled with unmatched joy and wonder.
Every moment with my son is a gift — full of laughter, inspiration, and growth. I’m his teacher, yes, but more often than not, I’m also his student. Through him, I’ve learned the true value of being present, of connecting deeply without distractions. It’s in those simple, shared moments that I’ve found the purest form of happiness.
Being a dad means guiding, nurturing, and protecting — but it also gives me permission to be a kid again. I get to be silly, playful, and totally myself, free of judgment. It’s a beautiful reminder that joy often lives in the little things, and that being present is sometimes the most powerful thing we can offer.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I’m a Grammy Award-winning drummer, originally from Santiago, Chile, and I’ve proudly called California home since 2007.
Over the years, I’ve had the privilege of touring and recording with a wide range of artists, including Nick Carter, Beto Cuevas, and several prominent Persian performers such as Sami Beigi, Kamran & Hooman, and Shahram Shabpareh, to name a few.
Before moving to the U.S., I played in Chile with the bands Alter Ego and the progressive rock group Exsimio — both of which shaped my early musical identity.
Most recently, I signed with Desert View Records, where I’ve taken on a multi-faceted role as their in-house drummer, songwriter, and solo artist. One of the greatest perks of this chapter is being able to create and collaborate from my own home studio — blending professional work with personal freedom.
Thanks for sharing that. Would love to go back in time and hear about how your past might have impacted who you are today. What was your earliest memory of feeling powerful?
That’s a great question — and it takes me back to a defining moment in my late teens.
I had just started playing with the band Alter Ego in Chile, and we were invited to perform a couple of songs at a massive festival held at the Santiago train station. There were around 30,000 people in the crowd. At the time, we were still an unknown band, so we didn’t get a soundcheck — just waited stage-side, instruments in hand, hoping for our moment.
I remember standing there, not nervous — just electric with excitement. When we finally got the cue to go on, we stepped onto that huge stage and gave it everything we had for 15 straight minutes. And the crowd? They were with us. We felt the energy hit like a wave.
That performance was pure adrenaline, connection, and validation. Seeing people moved by what we created — and feeling equally inspired by their reaction — was incredibly powerful.
That moment confirmed it for me: this is what I was meant to do with my life.
Was there ever a time you almost gave up?
I’ve never truly thought about giving up — but there was a moment when a lot of people told me I should.
In 2007, I moved to the U.S. from Chile to pursue a full-time career in music. I had no connections, no roadmap — just determination and a dream. The first few months were all about grinding: networking, playing every gig I could, and doing whatever it took to get my name out there.
Eventually, one opportunity led to another, and I got the call for an audition that felt surreal — it was for Serj Tankian, the lead singer of System of a Down, a band I’d admired since their first album.
I prepared like crazy and went to his studio to audition. I played two songs, poured everything I had into those moments, and walked out feeling like I had left it all on the table.
It was a Monday. I was told callbacks would be announced Wednesday, with rehearsals starting Thursday and the tour kicking off that Sunday — it was all happening fast.
That Wednesday, I got a call from Serj’s manager. He told me I’d made a strong impression and that it came down to a vote between me and one other drummer. I lost — by a single vote. The wild part? Serj himself had voted for me.
They asked me to be on standby for a week in case things didn’t work out with the other drummer.
They did, of course.
Word got back to my friends in Chile, and I remember one of them saying, “Just come back. It’s over. You only get an opportunity like that once in a lifetime.”
But I didn’t go back. Because I don’t believe in “once in a lifetime.” I believe in showing up — again and again — with passion, consistency, and faith in the process.
So a lot of these questions go deep, but if you are open to it, we’ve got a few more questions that we’d love to get your take on. Is the public version of you the real you?
The version of me that people see publicly is mostly tied to my work — and while that reflects part of who I am, it’s not the full picture.
It’s true that your art reveals a lot about you. I believe that deeply. There’s no filter when it comes to creating — the way I approach the drums and music in general says a lot about my personality, my discipline, my emotions, and how I see the world.
But beyond that, I’m a pretty private person. Only a handful of close friends really know the struggles I’ve faced and continue to face. I don’t put that side of myself out there much.
We live in a time where social media is saturated with success stories — or at least, the appearance of success. What we rarely see is the struggle behind it. And yet, it’s the struggle that shapes you. Without failure, there’s no growth. If you’re not failing, you’re probably not pushing hard enough.
So, to answer the question: What I share publicly is a part of me — an authentic part — but it’s not the complete version. The full story includes the setbacks, the doubts, the work behind the work… and most of that stays offline.
Thank you so much for all of your openness so far. Maybe we can close with a future oriented question. When do you feel most at peace?
A few things come to mind when I think about peace.
Spending time with my son is definitely one of them. Those moments bring a deep sense of calm — I lose track of time and just feel present. It’s a kind of peace that’s both grounding and joyful.
Other times, it’s the simple things — like having a quiet coffee while staring out the window. No noise, no rush — just being still.
But if I had to choose the place where I feel most at peace, it’s behind the drum kit. That’s where everything else fades away. It feels like complete freedom — almost like an out-of-body experience. I’m fully in the moment, fully myself. It’s more than just playing; it’s where I feel most alive and at peace all at once.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://jaradrums.com
- Instagram: @jaradrums
- Youtube: @jaradrums
