WRITING
Ron Hawkins is a singer , songwriter , and painter from Toronto . His band Lowest of the Low was a fixture of the “ indie explosion ” of the early ’ 90s . Along with his solo work and bands The Rusty Nails and the Do Good Assassins , he has released 15 studio albums . For more information , visit him at www . ronhawkins . com .
By Ron Hawkins
The Blank Page
For a lot of writers , the blank page or the beckoning cursor is either an intoxicating invitation or a shrill accusation . Playground or hellscape ? It ’ s how one reacts to either iteration that determines whether or not our chosen field feels like a second childhood or a prison sentence .
I began writing songs when I was about 14 , and by “ writing songs ,” what I mean is merely recycling Beatles , Kinks , and Phil Ochs ideas until I could ( almost ) convince myself they were my own .
I was “ faking it to make it .” I was able to persevere because at that stage in life , you embody a split personality wherein you feel on one hand like you can take on the world , and on the other like someone is about to unmask you for the charlatan you truly are .
So why do we push on ? How do we dig down and find the strength to keep at it ‘ til our efforts become more graceful , less obvious , and at least a little … listenable ?
For me , it was the mystery – the fact that whether it was school , work , the four seasons , the days of the week , everything else in my life had a pattern that was knowable , even predictable .
Songwriting came from somewhere I couldn ’ t explain . The only thing I knew for sure was that if I sat down and put my nose to the grindstone , something would happen . And whatever that initial ugly slab of marble turned out to be , I could tweak it and manipulate it until I had something more refined . That alchemy was intoxicating and is still a powerful motivator for me 37 years later .
Finding a Voice For me , the hellscape looked like a playground , so I embarked on a mission to erase the Beatles , The Clash , and the The Pretenders from popular memory and replace them with my own works of staggering genius .
Easier said than done . Just because you ’ ve found a voice doesn ’ t mean you know who its rightful owner is . So out I went into the world to find out who I was musically . As a young Marxist punk I was impassioned by the idea that the music could be a gunshot heard ‘ round the world , and the lyrics a battle cry for social justice . A decade of big P political songs followed . Benefits for the Ontario Coalition Against Poverty and work with the Anti Racist Action gave me a soapbox and a chance to feel like my songs were part of an arsenal for class warfare .
But more and more those songs began to feel like David Byrne ’ s ill fitting suit in “ Stop Making Sense .” Eye catching , yes . Provocative ? For sure . But a little awkward and possibly even a bit … maudlin ?
Finding Inspiration As the ‘ 80s became the ‘ 90s , I suffered a loss of conviction , a break up , and a year of wandering in the wilderness ( of downtown Toronto ). Not only did this not defeat me as an artist – it led to an epiphany . I began to feel like the protagonist in the movie of my own life . I started seeing things around me in a new way , documenting them in a notebook that I obsessively carried around . Eventually the big P politics morphed into a kind of small p politics nestled within the stories of the people around me and the places we inhabited . Ironically , I found that this new microcosm was more universal . I started writing about the trees instead of the forest .
What this taught me about inspiration is that it ’ s not really a gift from somewhere external to you – from a higher power or a muse , as someone more spiritual than I would have you believe . It ’ s a gift you give yourself , by being present and by opening yourself up emotionally and indulging your own curiosity .
I recently wrote a song to this affect called “ Do the Right Now .” In it there ’ s a line that goes : “ Don ’ t try to tell your fortune with your telephone . Tomorrow ’ s a lie and yesterday ’ s gone . You ’ ve gotta do the right now .”
Finding Authenticity But living in the present is only one part of the equation . What do you do with the information you glean from it ?
Authenticity is a loaded word and it means something wholly unique to each individual . Still , in each of us there is usually a little voice that calls bullshit on our more extravagant transgressions .
Listen to that little voice . I ’ m not saying that the “ first thought , best thought ” ideology is always right , but usually if something is telling you that you ’ ve broken an intellectual property law , more than likely you have .
The story goes that Paul McCartney woke up one morning with the melody for the song “ Yesterday ” fully formed in his head . He walked around for a month asking his friends where it was from or if they had heard it before , convinced that it was an already existing song buried in his subconscious and that he had inadvertently stolen it . When it finally became apparent that he had written it in his sleep , he finished the lyrics and recorded it as the next Beatles single .
From time to time this may happen , but in my experience these “ gift ” songs are few and far between and even Macca was seldom to be so blessed .
One instance for me personally was when friends of mine were pregnant with their first baby . Due to complications , Saskia was born three months prematurely and was forced to begin her life in an incubator . When I heard the news I experienced a kind of fight or flight response , but as these friends live in Australia I was left with no real options to try to help or give any solace . So I did what my instincts told me : I picked up a guitar . Within 20 minutes I had written a song called “ Saskia Begins .” I recorded the song in a fever and sent it off to my friends with the intention of it being like a magic amulet they could wear to lift their spirits and give them the strength I knew they would need to ride out those first scary weeks in the hospital .
Most stars don ’ t come out ‘ til it ’ s dark But one came early guided by her little spark She smiled , starlight blazed across the sky She came and she lit up all our little lives
Ah , ah , ah , ah O ’ er the southwest sky Ah , ah , ah , ah Saskia arrived
Later , they told me they would bring the CD to the hospital each morning and play it to Saskia in her incubator .
And for me , that alone has justified 37 years of struggling with words and music . So trust your instincts , listen to that little voice inside your head , and persevere .
58 • CANADIAN MUSICIAN