When you turn onto South Street in Philadelphia, you’re confronted with the sights and sounds of a different world than those of the old city only a few blocks before.
Punks with spiky hair walk down streets dotted with sex shops and piercing and tattoo parlors while bars blast trendy tunes and entice with the offer of cheap booze.
So the sight of John Ondrasik walking down the street, faded t-shirt and jeans and old sandals, seemingly lost in a world all his own is obviously something that sticks out.
Don’t let this image mislead you. He doesn’t appear to be crazy or poor, but rather, does not personify rock and roll.
The lead singer of the moderately successful band Five for Fighting is a guy who walks down Anystreet USA not bothered by celebrity status, but not looking for it either.
What’s more, he goes barefoot and offers bottled water before even checking press credentials.
And it’s in that moment in the artist’s lounge at the Theater of Living Arts on a warm day in June when you realize that the thirtysomething Ondrasik is more rock-guy, than rock-god.
“
I’m closer to the average guy than most,” he says, ignoring the contradiction that he’s just come from a show 100 miles away in New York’s Union Square and is quietly preparing for another that night.
I’m closer to the average guy than most,” he says, ignoring the contradiction that he’s just come from a show 100 miles away in New York’s Union Square and is quietly preparing for another that night. For all intents and purposes, Five for Fighting is John Ondrasik – lyricist and only constant member to play on all three studio albums the “band” has released since 1997.
Perhaps it’s his solitary position that keeps him from getting too bogged down with celebrity status – he simply doesn’t have enough time to take out the trash and pay the bills and pose for the paparazzi.
This, however, has not always been the case.
The band’s last album, “America Town” skyrocketed to popularity with its massive hit, “Superman (It’s Not Easy)” a song that seemed to speak to people universally after the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001.
Suddenly, the song was on every radio station and less than six weeks after the attacks, Ondrasik was on stage at Manhattan’s Madison Square Garden performing for a sold out crowd for the Concert for New York City fundraiser. People might not have recognized Ondrasik up there next to Bon Jovi and David Bowie, but they certainly knew his song.
So when he sat down to record his next album, Ondrasik was faced with more than just topping his last hit – he had to make everyone remember what was great about the last album.
“’Superman’ caused this album. Without it, this album could not have happened,” he admits.
So with that in mind, Ondrasik packed up his family and headed west to Mendocino, a “small ghost town in California” where he spent ten months writing.
“I was writing everywhere. I’d write on the back of the bus. I’d go to Lake Tahoe and write. Then I’d gamble,” he says with a smile. “I was writing sometimes till the sun came up. It was intense…intense.”
Finishing the new album, “The Battle for Everything” proved to be difficult.
“That’s how the album got its name,” he says. “Everything was a battle. They hated everything. Even the artwork was a battle.”
Nonetheless, the album possesses a sense of optimism. The two biggest changes to Ondrasik’s life since “America Town” – sudden uncontrollable attention, and the births of his two children - appear to pepper the lyrics of “Everything.”
“When you’re changed, your songs change,” he says.
The album’s first single, “100 Years” is the perfect example, with its obvious lesson to another generation to appreciate the benefits of youth.
For Ondrasik, music has been a part of his life since his childhood, but it seems more like a form of therapy than a connection to his younger days.
As a young man, he was not obsessed with music, but admits that for him, music was “cathartic.”
“It was a way to get through the day,” he recalls.
When asked about his early musical influences, he spouts off crowd pleasers like the Beatles, U2, Billy Joel, Queen and the Police.
Ask him about the name Jane which appears throughout both “America Town” and “Battle for Everything” and after flashing a smile, he says, “I’m a wannabe [Pete] Townsend. I like the idea of crafting my own ‘Tommy’. [Repeating characters] keeps my audience on their toes.”
Recently, his popularity has increased through his new gig - writing for the online hockey trade magazine, Inside Hockey.
The magazine job is just another example of the dichotomy of being “an average guy” rocker. Most musicians who contribute to publications usually write about music, not sports, and when they do, they aren’t usually as obscure as Ondrasik is.
Although, his obscurity is quickly brought into question at the show that night, as the TLA fills with fans of a wide variety of ages. They all scream at his stories and they all know his lyrics.
It therefore appears, that success has found him for a while, whether he’s been looking for it or not. In the end, he waxes poetic about celebrity and success.
“Celebs in our culture are overemphasized,” he says. “Success removes the thorns of life, but also places new ones.”
These words more than hint at the underlying truth about John Ondrasik – he is, and always will be, a suburban poet.
“It’s a dream come true,” he says. “Success is a wonderful thing, but with everything comes baggage. My goal is to maintain some semblance of effectiveness. Any day this could be over and I’ll have to get a real job.”
A battle for everything, indeed, but one that Ondrasik seems unlikely to lose.
