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San Francisco, July 21, 2003
Singer-songwriter Jonathan Roniger is a solo artist and the front-man for San Francisco-based four-piece Still. A native of New Orleans, Roniger has grown his musical career in the fertile artistic soil that is the Bay Area since his arrival there in 1992. Still is currently completing a demo with Chris Manning (Carlos Santa’s Supernatural is just one of Manning’s many credits) that’s already getting early buzz in The City. A regular performer at local venues including Fly Bar & Restaurant, G Bar and The Cannery on Fisherman’s wharf, Roniger is also due to release a new solo album in mid-August. Freelance journalist Doug Wyllie recently sat down for a conversation with Roniger to discuss New Orleans versus San Francisco, sobriety versus intoxication, interpersonal relationships and music as an antidepressant.
Tell me a little about your youth. Where did you grow up? What was your elementary school teacher’s name?
Let’s start at the beginning, shall we? I was born in New Orleans, Louisiana. My dad was in the Army, so we traveled around quite a bit until I was about six, when we landed in Baltimore. I can’t remember my elementary school teacher’s name, but I went to so many different schools it was unbelievable. I went to three different high schools, different first and second grade schools, different nursery schools, all the way up. I finally landed back in New Orleans when I was about twelve, just in time to take up a healthy alcohol and drug regimen. Back then, in a city like New Orleans, if you weren’t drinking, something was wrong with you.
That’s when you started to live a rock & roll lifestyle. When did you begin to sing?
My singing career, as it were, actually began in Baltimore when I was in fifth, sixth and seventh grade. I was a member of an all male church choir. It was kid of my introduction to band rehearsals. We had practice every morning before school for about forty-five minutes and Thursday nights for three hours after school and we were in church every Sunday. I did that for three years. That was, of course, right before cigarettes, pot and Jack Daniels entered my life.
Those are always good for the singing voice.
Sure, if you want to sing rock and roll.
So now we know where and when you began in music. I’m curious about the why.
I just thought that my older cousin, who is about two years older than me, was a cool guy (and turns out, he is a cool guy) and he was in the choir. That’s kind of the reason I got involved. I had taken guitar lessons; I’d taken piano lessons. It was one of those things where my parents spent all this money and bought me an upright piano and then two years later I stopped playing it. It was kind of a weird situation where it seemed like the cool people in fifth sixth seventh grade were all in the choir. I don’t know why that worked that way, but it was kind of a derelict crew. These were the guys that I later started drinking with. So the only reason was just ‘cause I thought it’d be cool. I didn’t do anything again until what must have been junior year in high school.
I’m leading the conversation, but here we go. I didn’t do much except party and flirt with chicks until junior year in high school when I got in a really bad car accident the day before spring break. I spent the entire spring break in the hospital. I had this cash saved up to blow on spring break and a friend of mine went and bought me a bass with that cash so I could be in his band ‘cause he had just started playing guitar. That’s where the whole thing started. I’ve pretty much been in a band since that spring break in my junior year of high school (1985).
You got involved in music, in a sense, sort of accidentally then.
[Laughing] Yeah, literally. And it was a bad accident too. I lost like a gallon of blood out of my body and I was in intensive care for four days. It was not good.
Was that an alcohol related accident?
Well, it could have been but it wasn’t. We were actually on our way to a party with a trunk full of beer. We were in a ’65 Mustang convertible and the brakes failed. We went right through a stop sign and somebody plowed into us.
So out of tragedy comes art. Have you ever written about that experience?
You know, I haven’t really pondered that. But now that you mention it I might have to take that into consideration and see what comes out. But as you know, I didn’t really ponder much until about a year and a half ago because I was just so diluted.
Who do you think have been some of your biggest influences?
My earliest influences — the earliest music I can remember really stopping and listening to when I was two, three, four years old was like Simon & Garfunkel, Joan Baiez, Jim Croce. The folksters, you know what I mean? I feel that a lot of my writing comes out of that. When I write songs, I sit around with my acoustic guitar and just noodle around until an idea pops up, and then hopefully that leads to a lyrical idea and boom, there it is. Traditionally, I write the music first and that springs up a melody and a rhythm in my head. For me, songwriting is about a millisecond in time; an instant where something strikes you either as odd, or strikes you very deeply. I thought about this the other day. In that instant, kind of everything in that instant becomes apparently clear as to why that moment exists. From that comes a song.
Do you find that you write at any specific time of day? When do you feel most in tune with that instant or does it just take you whenever?
It kind of just takes me whenever. I think because of bartending and the nighttime aspect of music, I find that afternoons to be kind of my zone. After I’ve done my wake up time and before I have to be mentally committed to something else.
How do you feel that your San Francisco and New Orleans experience have coalesced as influences on you as a person?
Well, I find both places to be — I don’t know how you would say it, culturally enriched cities. They’re both deep in their own tradition. I feel that New Orleans is unique in the fact that it’s such an old city and so conservative that very little has changed over the course of the past couple hundred years. But I find San Francisco to be very deep in its own tradition although it seems like the people are constantly changing. It seems like the same type of people are drawn here, thereby almost keeping it the same, even though it constantly changes. That’s a good question. I’ve had, the eleven-plus years that I’ve lived here, I’ve been very focused on music, but also at the same time very heavily involved in drugs and alcohol. I feel very connected to The City in that everyone here is almost like me. It’s a very creative city and everyone kind of feels like my age, which I consider to be like 25 to 45. So it’s a good vibe and a good fit and it’s been very welcoming or friendly to me. It feels very comfortable to be yourself here.
There’s also a lot of art, and a deep appreciation for creativity, and that’s conducive to going about your own path.
I think you’ve said it perfectly; creativity and individuality, which I found actually kind of stifling in New Orleans, where it’s not necessarily the case there. But at the same time, New Orleans is soooooo deep culturally in music and in joy of life. You know, eating and enjoying other people’s company, and music of course, is a big part of that. But San Francisco is just a great town. It’s a great city, and it’s so interesting to me to be part of the Bay Area and yet so apart from the Bay Area.
How has your time in San Francisco influenced your art? Has it changed you in any way or allowed you to develop differently that you might in New Orleans?
I’ve come really full circle on that. I’ve tried to break away from what found that New Orleans was pulling me towards. New Orleans is very attached to it’s musical sound: jazz/blues based, the African rhythms and things like that. San Francisco, to quote Jefferson Airplane, built this city on rock and roll. It’s kind of like that. It’s a very rock and roll town. You look at the Grateful Dead and Jefferson Airplane and the bands that came out of here in the late sixties and the bands from here are very rock-oriented. I’ve come full circle in that now, I’m not trying to be anything that I’m not. Even in New Orleans, I’m not a blues/jazz guy. I’m more like a folk writer. I guess San Francisco has really given me the ability to be exactly what I am musically, as opposed to trying to mold to what other people might expect.
What are some of the themes or topics that inspire you and permeate your work?
I’m kind of a sap. In musical terms I’m kind of a romantic or maybe a traditionalist. I stay away from politics in my writing quite intentionally. I’m very much drawn to more of an emotional stance. I believe that for me, it’s easier to connect with people from their heart or from their soul than it is through their head. I’ve believed that for a long time. I consider the catch-phrase about my songs as light-hearted songs about love and loss. That’s kind of the way I approach it. I try not to take myself too seriously although I’m serious about certain topics. I believe that you have to be able to laugh at yourself and laugh your problems and maybe you can help other people see that there’s always a situation that could be a lot worse than the one you’re in. That you have to kind of step out of your own box to see that.
I’ve seen your acoustic cover sets a couple of dozen times. Where do you perform your original work?
Interestingly enough, I do slip in the original work even at my acoustic gigs, where I try to do a lot of covers just ‘cause it’s the happy hour scene. People aren’t so into opening up to new music. But when I play with the full band, called Still, we do nothing but original music, songs that I’ve written.
Have you guys toured?
We haven’t gone out on the road. We’re now making a demo and I have a solo record coming out and everything is going to kind of be done in the beginning of August.
What’s the name of the solo record?
I haven’t come up with a name yet. I’m thinking about calling it Reflection. That title has changed about twenty times though. From that we’ve gotten some good response from people who are recording with us and hopefully we’ll take that out and get some radio play somewhere and take it from there.
Tell me a little about Still.
Still is a four-piece band, with drums, bass, two guitars. Pete — the guitar player — and I have been playing together since college so we started playing together in about 1987. The drummer and the bass player are from another band called Box Set. They’ve been around for a while and we’ve been good friends. Here’s how the story goes: The guitar player and I moved out to San Francisco in January of ’92. We came out with the drummer from our college band to play music out here. Through a mutual friend of ours met the bass player, Chad who’s currently playing with us. We had played in another band called Slack Dog Dynamite. That band lasted about a year and a half, where Chad quit, moved back to Vermont to play with his college band, quit that band to come back here and join Box Set. I’m going to say that was ’94. When he joined Box set, Mark (our current drummer) was playing Box set, so that’s when those two started playing together and is when we met Mark. So the four of us have known each other for a long time. Only about three years ago did we start playing together as the band that’s currently called Still. We kind of did it as a “Let’s get together as friends and play music.” In December of 2001, we randomly got a gig opening for Box Set at Slim’s. We put in a bunch of time rehearsing and got a good set together and it just went off really well. We all got very excited about it and just said, “You know what, why don’t we just make this thing a band, rehearse twice a week and try and get some gigs.” That’s where we are today.
So you’ve played Slim’s and I imagine some other venues in town.
Our two best gigs were Slim’s and Great American Music Hall. We have a gig coming up at Bottom of the Hill in mid-August. We’ve played Tounge-n-Groove, Velvet Lounge, Last Day Saloon, Sweetwater and those kind of places.
Here’s one from left field. Tell me something about yourself that would surprise people that even already now know you well.
Huh. Something about myself that would surprise people that kind of already know me well. That’s a good question. Um… Hmmmm.
Perhaps I’ll put it this way. One of your closest confidants would tell me ‘X’ about you.
[Long silence]
We just stumped the band!
[Laughing] I think it’s a great question. I’m trying to think of what the answer would be that my closest friends might not even know about me. That I have, like, low self-esteem in almost everything I do…Why do I go on stage? Because I used to get nervous about it.
What are the best and worst things about being a musician?
The very best thing about it is that I feel like I’m never truly stressed or truly depressed because I get that release on a daily basis form music. I feel bad that more people can’t do that. My girlfriend the other day after listening to a bunch of my lyrics — we played a bunch of songs the other night — said, “Man are you depressed?” I said, “No, I’m not depressed. The reason I’m not is because I can write about things that make me sad and I get it out.” That’s like why people started playing the blues.
That’s the best, what’s the worst?
The worst thing about being a musician for me right now is that it’s just a giant money pit. It’s where all of my spare cash and spare time go that might otherwise go to more, I don’t know, more Earthly things.
So it’s an expensive anti-depressant.
[Laughing] Exactly!
You’ve kind of begun to touch on this but let’s take it on directly. How would you describe your style? You’re not flashy. But you’re also not shy.
What you see is what you get. People like Lenny Kravitz, right? I love his style musically, but he’s just a little too cocky. And I would like him more if he wasn’t so full of himself. My goal really in life, and this comes through in my music I hope, is to simply be exactly what I am, and the best of what I am. I’m hoping that come through.
Comparisons are odious, but they happen a lot. To what other artists are you most frequently compared, if any?
Let’s see. The one I appreciated the most the other day came from my voice instructor, my vocal coach that I’ve recently started working with for about two months now. He said, “You remind me of John Hiatt meets Mick Jagger with a little bit of Steven Tyler thrown in there.” I thought that was pretty cool. And then songwriting, I’ve heard things like songs in the vein of Tom Petty with the whine of Neil Young. I dig that. I love all of those artists.
Yeah, that’s really great company.
Exactly, I take it as a complement to be compared with anyone who’s well known. I think that’s just a natural tendency. And if you’re being compared to someone who’s successful, then hey, even better. I have no problem about comparisons. I wrote a song a long time ago and my girlfriend was like, “Oh, very Eric Clapton-esque.” I’m like, “Yeah, sweet! Thanks!”
What are some of the strangest or funniest experiences you’ve had on stage or on the road?
Well, being the drunk that I now am not but used to be, I’ve been kicked off stage by members of my own band in the middle of a gig. I would say that was the most — not strange of course because I’m sure it happens all the time — not pleasant for me. Of course at the time I thought it was hysterical ‘cause I was so drunk. I had a girl ask me one time what I’d most like to see when I walk out on stage and look out across the crowd. I said, “A bunch of V-neck tank tops ‘cause I’m lookin’ down.” Nothing completely out of the ordinary has happened that you might expect at a rock and roll show.
You’ve never accidentally had your pyrotechnics torch the club then.
[Laughing] Killing hundreds. No, thank God nothing like that has happened. Mostly it’s been my own debauchery that’s brought me down.
What musician, living or dead, would you like most to do a duet with?
Wow. I think it would be awesome to do a duet with Bonnie Raitt. She’s just so smooth. And I would love to be able to play a song with Eric Clapton. Those are just some classics.
If you were to do a duet with Bonnie Raitt, what song would you want to do?
I might get the title of the song wrong, but I think it’s Angel from Montgomery. [Singing] Send me an angel… send me a post card from an old rodeo. I can’t remember the title of that song right now.
Do you name your guitars?
I don’t. I might — should — name my guitars but I’m torn between the idea of treating them as just tools of the trade. You see bands that trash their instruments and they’re like “It’s just a tool, you buy another one,” as opposed to getting so attached to them. But I’ve become quite attached to my guitars. I love them, you know? But I haven’t named them yet.
What is — in the best of all possible worlds — your long-term musical goal?
Well, I’ll tell you straight up. I want to be an award-winning songwriter and I’d like to be in a world-renowned, successful band. I’d like to sell millions and millions of records. I’d like to get into songwriting for movies and television. I mean, long-term goal, I’d like to make music my livelihood. I want to be good at it and I want to make a lot of money at it. Some people might have a problem talking about making a ton of money. I don’t.
Either do I, my man. Either do I.
Buy Jon's CD, "Addicted," today. |