By David DeRocco

 It’s a rare feat in any vocation to be included on a list of “the greatest of all time.” For the indie-rock collective known as Lowest of the Low, that designation was earned with the release of their classic 1991 debut Shakespeare My Butt. Acknowledged as one of the Top 10 Canadian albums of all time by multiple critics and authors, Shakespeare was at the time the fastest selling indie rock record ever released in this country, securing the Low’s place in Canadian musical history on the strength of its 17 infectiously clever punk-pop tracks.

Hawkins, however, has secured his own place in the hearts of diehard fans for not only his work with the Low, but also for mercurial projects like Ron Hawkins & The Rusty Nails and the Do Good Assassins. Add to that his 15 solo albums – including his 2016 release Spit Sputter and Sparkle – and it’s easy to make the case that Ron Hawkins is one of Canada’s most prolific and accomplished punks. With the Lowest of the Low reformed and occassionally touring -- including a December 6th gig at The Warehouse in St. Catharines --  Canada’s other famous “Ron Hawkins” took time to chat with GoBeWeekly about his last solo project, the 25^th anniversary of Shakespeare, his legacy and the reason why fans keep coming back.  

 GOBE:  I asked a friend of mine who is a huge fan of yours what’s the one question I should ask you. And the question is, “why the hell don’t you play "The Taming of Carolyn” live?

 RON:  (Laughing) Well I guess we don’t play the Taming of Carolyn at all it seems. The only time we played it in the last 20 years was at the Shakespeare (My Butt) 20^th anniversary tour we did. And I think it’s because that song – when I wrote the songs for Shakespeare, we had just transformed out of a band called Popular Front, which was Dave (Alexander) the drummer, Steve Stanley and me; so three of the four members of the Low in Popular Front. And it was just a different kind of band, different kind of songs. And that was one of the only songs that made the transition over. So I think it feels a little bit to us like another era you know. 

 GOBE: You actually made an appearance at a recent party I held when your image was put on a birthday cake for one of the people attending.  You've been touring for going on three decades – are you ever surprised by the stories and tales fans tell you about the things they’ve done, the memories they’ve created and the efforts they’ve made to enjoy your shows and music?

 RON: The thing about being in a band is that you start out hoping that you’ll be up there with Zep and Beatles and The Clash. But of course you don’t ever expect that you’ll actually have that kind of resonance with people. And certainly I’m not suggesting that we have, but on our scale we’ve resonated with people; I’ve heard amazing stories from people and about what the songs mean to them, and got them through hard times, got them through good times. There’s been a couple of completely heart wrenching stories I’ve been told and heard from people about how the songs connected with them. As a songwriter it doesn’t get any better than that.

 GOBE:  I would think that, besides any obvious financial gain or associated benefits of fame, that at the end of the day having your music impact people on a personal level is probably the greatest reward as a songwriter? 

 RON:  People don’t understand what a hard and grueling job it can be to be an indie rock musician. They see the two hours on stage or whatever and that’s incredible. But there’s so much waiting around, so much humping gear at 3am in the freezing cold, there’s so much work behind it just to keep it going, that really all you’ve got is that. You certainly wouldn’t do it for money if that was your only goal I don’t think. Maybe there’s somebody out there who became a musician because they wanted to become rich, they want to pop Cristal corks and that kind of stuff. But for most of the people I grew up with and most of the people who are my heroes it was really about, ‘we’re on this planet for a short period of time and I’d like to have some effect on it and make some real connections with people through music.’ Luckily we’ve been able to do that in some small way.

 GOBE:   It's definitely true those fans probably never think of the work involved in being a musician. And I would think even more so as a songwriter like yourself who has had such a prolific output over the years. I assume there’s never really a time that the songwriter in you is ever off the clock.

 RON:  It’s a 24-7 job. I’m also a visual artist. I paint. I come from an Irish heritage so there’s the story-telling thing. It’s kind of engrained. So it’s not even just about being a songwriter. To me it’s about being present and being alive in the world and connecting with people in a real way. I’ve kind of got the grumpy old man thing about not having a cellphone. It started out just because I didn’t want to be inconvenienced. Now it’s become a full-blown philosophy about how I want to be present in my life. When people are talking to me I want to be wholly there and not getting distracted because my phone is dinging and I’m wondering who else I could be talking to or whatever.  I see it with parents in school yards, the kid is kicking the soccer ball around by himself and the mom or dad is sitting there texting.  They’re sort of half there. It’s easy to slip into that. So I’m trying to be wholly engaged.

 GOBE: As an artist does being more present help you key into the elements that define and mark your work as a songwriter?

 RON: Yea, I think so, they talk about painters and visual artists being the same way. They just have an eye that sees things. They can look at something, a really dense scene, and pick out the four structural important parts of that scene, and the rest of it kind of gets filtered. I feel like that as a writer. Things occur to me when I see them because I’ve developed a sense of honing in on them, or at least what I think is important. Sometimes I can turn that into something bigger that lasts longer than just the moment.

 GOBE:  You’ve collected a bunch of those moments together and released a new solo CD, Spit Sputter and Sparkle.  Is the process of recording, releasing and promoting a new CD much different than it used to be for you.

 RON: Well there’s an aspect that’s still the same because I’m on Pheromone Records. They still hold onto the template of get the publicist going, talk to Now magazine, talk to Exclaim!, call the CBC. They have this old template still happening and I feel there’s a place for that. But there’s a whole other side; because of the way the internet has democratized everything, I feel that  you really have to set a bomb off to get people’s attention these days. So you’re looking at ways to connect with people that just doesn’t feel like you’re selling them shoes again.

 GOBE:  So what was the bomb you set off to promote the release, and where did you set it off

 RON:  I’ve been making my own videos.  Videos are an old template, but I made this video for the first single “Beautiful Girl.” It’s about my daughter Ruby Bea who’s 10. And for $75 we rented a room in this place called ArtScape which is a sort of co-op run arts collective. There was a bit of story line to it. We shot it all ourselves. Basically Ruby Bea is the star of the video. And when it wasn’t her, all the rest of it was shot by her. She was moving around with the camera; she’s 10, she had all these great angles and everything. It was completely in the family. We got another friend involved and my wife and then I edited together in iMovie. It just felt like when I was a 17 year old punk – how do you throw things together. Certainly you can tell that it’s not a $50,000 video. But not in the way you’d think; it still has impact and resonates. So that’s what I’m trying to capture; lets share things with each other. They don’t have to be so glossy.

 GOBE:  As a father of three daughters, I loved the line in “Beautiful Girl” about the “immutable girl.” There are a lot of women reflected in your songs; were any of them ever mutable? 

 RON:  Not really. One of the badges of honour that I hold up as an artist is that I certainly come from this punk rock world. I used to play hockey as a kid. I come from a male world.  But my personal world was pretty much dominated by strong women. So I feel as though I kind of squeaked out of that easily. I got a good education on how to respect women, and just treat people like human beings. In a way some of my friends didn’t get to do. I feel like I had a leg up, having a good education on how to move in the world, especially around women.

 GOBE:  What are your expectations or goals when releasing new music these days? Is it still just a natural exercise as a songwriter to continue that creative purging? Is it the hope radio picks it up and fans buy it. Is it just having something new to play? Or a little all the above.  

 RON: All the above. This is my 15^th record so I’m kind of way in. And I’ve been told repeatedly, and I only say this because I’ve been told it over and over, that I’m the most under-appreciated singer-songwriter in Canada. And I don’t feel like that. I feel like I have a cottage industry and I have a pretty hard-core – albeit smaller – audience than my audience was with Lowest of the Low. That’s a weird mystery to me and a kind of a puzzle to unravel as to why the writer and main singer songwriter of that band – if there are 100,000 Lowest of the Lows fans – why as a solo artist do I have 10,000 of them you know (laughs). I’ve seen that happen with other people and I know what it is. But at the same time none of that really matters because the process is pretty front loaded for me. Most of the joy I get  is probably writing the songs, demoing them myself, recording them with the band, then the first few shows we play with the band. That’s sort of pay-off for me. After that playing the song for the 5,000^th time in Kelowna or something – I love it, I still love playing live – but it’s sort of a diminishing return.  All the joy is front loaded which is great. It may not be a motivator for me to try and become super famous because that just involves a lot more selling yourself all the time. It’s good for me as an artist, because it leaves my priorities all where they need to be.

 GOBE:  That tag of being “underappreciated” seems odd considering the reverence for you as a songwriter. In the song “Dark Horse” you deliver the line “I don’t believe in things if they believe in me.”  What’s it mean to you, then, to pick up a fan-voted award like Songwriter of the Year as you did last year with NOW Magazine?

 RON:  There is a little bit of acting going on of course. Because on one level it can’t not impress me and make me feel good to get affirmation. But then the punk in me goes, ‘Pizza Pizza won best pizza.’ So I guess I’m the Pizza Pizza of songwriters. I say things like that, kind of self-deprecating things to show I’m really not that comfortable with that kind of accolade, but of course it means something to me. I have to say that, maybe it was last year, there was an organization called City Signs, and they took lyrics from artists from all across Toronto and they made signs that went up that had a link to your website and a link to their site where you could find out more about the artist. And I had one with Lowest of the Low, we had one outside of Sneaky D’s at Bathurst and College, and I as a solo artist had one for “Peace and Quiet” in Kensington Market. I have to say, the “Peace and Quiet” one in Kensington Market, because I lived there for so long, that sort of meant more to me than the induction into the Indie Rock Hall of Fame or the Songwriter of the Year award. It sort of is more in line with the reason I do it.  It really touched me and I was kind of welling up when I heard about it. That neighbourhood, Kensington, may be designated a heritage site. That’s a real neighbourhood.

 GOBE: You’ve worked solo; you’ve worked with the Rusty Nails, the Do-Good Assassins, now out with The Low again. Does it ever seem schizophrenic as a performer, or  does that variety simply satisfy all your tastes – like having multiple girlfriends might, each catering to a different need?

 RON: It keeps me interested for sure, but again it’s one of those things. I never use the words underappreciated. I keep hearing it from other people. But all I keep feeling from this is blessed because if you told me when I was 16 years old that I would have been able to have this career and that I would be able to step into Lowest of the Low and go play two nights at Lee’s Palace and then go step on stage with the Do Good Assassins and do my most recent solo projects; I’m producing records for other people, I’m doing things that would have been my dream come true. And I think some people in this business get to 50 years old and they forget that that was their dream when they were 16 and they’re living it. And if you can’t know that and be in it and feel it than what has this giant journey – sometimes painful, sometimes amazing journey – been for if not reaping the benefits.

 GOBE: It’s been more than 25 years since Shakespeare My Butt came out. What are your thoughts on that album a quarter century later? Is it a curse or a blessing, simply a snapshot in time or the right album for the times, or was it ultimately just a great beginning?

 RON: Certainly a snap shot for sure. As I said, I can remember (The Taming of) Carolyn might have been one of the hangover songs form Popular Front. But I think I wrote the other 15 songs or whatever my contribution was to that record in about six months. I had an eight year relationship break up, I moved from my house with my then-partner into this real shitty punk rock apartment with four other guys who were in bands and comedians and punk rock guys. I had to sell all my stuff and move into this little room. I had decided then no more day jobs, I’m a fulltime musician period. I did the classic thing; I struggled a lot. I starved alot. I lived in this world where my life was kind of a movie. I was kind of the protagonist in my own movie. The city factored into it big time. I just spent my days walking around, trying to be a live wire, trying to be very attentive to what I saw. I couldn’t replicate that now if you asked me to because its snapshot.  And now when I listen to it I can hear all the strengths in it; I can also hear all the weaknesses in it. I sound so naïve to myself now. My voice sounds undeveloped.  I could hit the notes but I don’t sound like I have the kind of character I have in my voice now.  We recorded it as demos and I listen to it and go, wow, the most popular record in my entire cannon is the shittiest sounding record I’ve made. Some people go ‘that adds to it, like Billy Bragg or something.’ It’s kind of the underdog sound of that record that has part of the charm. But I think I see it sort of as a music fan. I certainly don’t see it as the person who made that record because I don’t recognize that person so much.

 GOBE: What is it about that collection of songs that continues to resonate with people? You’ve put out so much material, with so many gems. Have you figured out what is so special about that creation?

 RON: The one thing I do have a clear perspective on is that when we released Shakespeare My Butt  we did so when we were 25, when the audience that came to see us were between 18 and 30. And they were in a part of their life when they were free and unattached for the most part, out living the same kind of ‘protagonist in your own film’ life that I was living. So there’s some kind of romantic feel; it’s impossible to recreate that for people my age who come to see my new songs. They’ve gotten a babysitter, and they’re going home to their jobs, their mortgage and their responsibilities in a way they weren’t back them.  My songs were part of it. Their complete lust for life and their desire were another part of it. And I can’t recreate that scenario.  I could maybe do it if I was playing for 18 year old kids now. The environment for that has changed. Recently I heard the student council at Western was getting shit for their local radio still kind of playing indie rock; the students want to hear mostly hip hop, dub step and stuff like that. Even if I was playing to kids like that they probably wouldn’t be into the kind of stuff I’m writing, although I’m moving into some of that stuff. I like to think I’m evolving as a songwriter. It’s really hard to compete with the nostalgia of that record.

 GOBE:   You’re back on the road with The Lowest of the Low, coming to Springlicious in Niagara Falls. What’s the genuine feeling when you step back on stage to perform with that band.

RON: There has always been a certain dynamic with Lowest of the Low that’s partially exciting and partially terrifying, because they’re kind of hanging onto this roller coaster that at any moment could fall apart. I can’t even explain what it is. It’s not a different level of musicianship than other bands I’ve been in. It’s kind of this sham-bolic, freight train. Sometimes songs are played too fast, there’s kind of these crazy harmonics flying all over the place. I’ve noticed that we could clean those things up, but it would be less of a Lowest of the Low experience than when we let them happen. That’s how the band grew, and that’s what people have come to expect from our live shows. This kind of ‘who knows if it's going to hold together tonight.’ That’s an exciting thing to be a part of. I’m glad that all these guys, guys in their  late 40s early 50s have managed to get that happening.

 GOBE:  You’re well into a long and successful career as a musician. Looking back, what are the moments that stand out most for you.

 RON:     I guess there are a handful of them. I remember the first tour when Lowest of the Low opened up for a band from England called the Jazz Butchers. That tour set us up in Canada. I remember the disbelief and the euphoria on the cross-Canada tour back. I remember playing Massey Hall on the 20^th anniversary of Shakespeare. We started off in Kingston, ended up at Massey. All this stuff; the induction into the Indie Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, the time spent with the Rusty Nails, touring China and Australia by myself with an acoustic guitar. I never expected to be standing on a stage in Melbourne with an acoustic guitar playing Bob Dylan and having people listen.

 GOBE:  And as a final highlight, winding up on my friend’s birthday cake.

 RON: No, I couldn’t have imagined that either.

 **THIS INTERVIEW WAS PREVIOUSLY PUBLISHED ON GOBEWEEKLY