We all have stories. Stories about love, life, sadness, redemption, you name it. You can meet another person from your hometown and get a completely different perspective on something so familiar to you. Ronen Kauffman’s poignant new memoir New Brunswick, New Jersey, Goodbye, is an example of this for many. Kauffman’s story of growing up in New Brunswick, surrounded by some of the most powerful punk bands of the 90s, and finding himself, will inspire you to take a second look at your own settings and scene. Regardless of it’s New Jersey or not.

Late Night Wallflower recently had a chance to exchange a few words with Mr. Kauffman about his influences, if people fall away from punk and what makes New Jersey so unique.

So what were some of the main influences that led you to write the book? Was there a specific moment that convinced you to go forward with it or was it more of a gradual process?
Well, I love writing – it’s an outlet and in some ways an essential part of who I am. In this case, I realized that I had some really awesome stories to tell – not only because they were interesting stories about people and bands that really made a difference in my life and the lives of others, but because there were themes in those stories that I suspected others might find relatable. At least in my mind, there was something really special about the time and place which serve as the backdrop for my stories.As far as influences, well there are just some books I consider to be special. Glen E. Friedman’s Fuck You Heroes is a photo book, but I am deeply influenced by it. I am influenced by Karl Marx, as well as Malcom Gladwell. I love Aaron Cometbus, Howard Zinn, Alan Moore, and Noam Chomsky. I’m also affected by things that I don’t necessarily like, although my work might be described as having a positive vibe, that doesn’t mean it’s not a retort to some other idea out there. It’s just that I like to stay constructive.

How did you hook up with Hopeless?
I was actually pointed in their direction by a friend. I’d previously interviewed Hopeless’ founder Louis Posen for an article on music and philanthropy for the now-defunct magazine Law of Inertia, and already knew plenty about Hopeless and Sub City. Not to mention that I had a number of their releases in my music collection. So I’d approached another friend who owns a label, and it didn’t work for him at the time, but he suggested I approach Louis, which I did. Pretty simple. It is great, though, because I have been interested in fundraising, charity and philanthropy for a while – so releasing the book through the Sub City imprint was a really great opportunity and also jived with the book’s content and themes.

Can you explain a little further on your choice of the Mr. Holland Opus Foundation as your charity and why you felt it was an important cause from more people to be aware of?
Well for those who don’t know, MHOF refurbishes and distributes musical instruments to schools and other organizations that cannot afford to buy them. For one, I believe that music has been a powerful influence on the direction of my life and the lives of many of my friends. It’s been a gateway to a lot of great things for many people. So helping to provide any resource that helps stoke that potential in others is a privilege. I’m not a rich person, so my ability to give has constraints, and this allows me go beyond that in a way. I’m also a teacher in a place that doesn’t really have everything it needs, and I get pissed about the things many kids miss out on. A kid should be able to learn how to play music – it’s not very complicated a notion; anyone who tries to argue against arts education probably isn’t much smarter than a hot fudge sundae.

You’ve had experience writing before in the past, band-wise and with freelance journalism, but what were some of the most difficult transitions in writing the book?
The biggest challenge for me was at the beginning, in trying to figure out a process. How do you write a book when you’ve never done it before and there isn’t anyone there to show you? You have to stay organized. You have to work a lot. You have to learn when to ease off and take a break. You have to make sure it doesn’t ruin your personal life out in the real world. So I spent the first few months just trying to find and settle into a recognizable and manageable process. In a lot of ways, writing the book felt more like what I experience when I write lyrics or poetry, two distinct formats in and of themselves. I write features, record reviews, and commentary, but writing this book was so separate from all of that. It was more about feel and less about being technical.

Was there any opposition from some of your friends that didn’t want controversial sides of their past being exposed on paper?
Hah. Yeah. People are funny that way, but I think it’s good and very, very important to own your goofy past. Anyway, I did change a couple of names, and I did take out one incidental non-character because he didn’t want people knowing he was a skinhead, or something like that. Luckily he wasn’t essential so I was able to remove him altogether and not hurt the text at all. It sucks, because if you read the book, absolutely no one gets thrown under a bus. That’s not what I’m about. Still, I was accommodating to people with respect to name changes and such. Honestly, though, if anyone should be concerned about personal shit being exposed, it’s me.

Would you like to write another book?
Sure, providing I find an idea that is worthy. There are way too many books out there, so if I offer one up I want it to really be worth peoples’ time. I do have something, but haven’t developed it very much.

New Jersey has, and continues to be, a hotbed for truly inspired punk and hardcore bands; specifically New Brunswick. What are some of the main differences, if any, you see with N.B. now as compared to the time period the book focuses on?
Oh, man. It’s kind of hard for me to say because I haven’t lived there in a good number of years. And even though I do go there sometimes, I’m not involved in the day-to-day fun or misery of whatever is going on there. I will say that in the general area there are a lot of newer bands doing interesting things. The Ergs! and The Gaslight Anthem are on a lot of radars, and rightfully so. There is a great band called For Science who play a sort-of 90s-style, anxious pop-punk. Another band called Hellhole. I also know that there are people doing basement shows there, and doing it in true guerilla fashion, as the cops have not been so cool lately.

What do you think makes New Jersey unique?
Every place is unique. Maybe Jersey is a little more vibrant than a lot of places in terms of human activity. That’s probably got something to do with how many people we have crammed into such a small place. I also think that there is something in the psychology of existing in the shadow of large cities, like Philly and especially New York. New Jersey is actually considered the center of the megalopolis that stretches from D.C. to Boston. In terms of culture, well who knows? It does seem like a disproportionate number of creative people come from New Jersey, but I don’t know the statistics on that so it’s not much more than an anecdotal observation. And I’m probably biased. I will say this, among many others, we can claim Bruce Springsteen, Parliament Funkadelic, The Misfits, Patti Smith and the somewhat dodgy but undeniably essential Frank Sinatra. That’s pretty good.

Scene vets are always talking about growing away from the punk rock lifestyle or ethos. Seeing how the Degenerics are back, as well as Lifetime, among others that never really left, do you still feel like most of your friends are involved with the scene?
I think a lot of people from ten and twenty years ago have stuck around and remained involved with music and its periphery, like management or audio engineering or whatever. And that’s cool. I’m not sure how much of a scene it is, though, once you go beyond your local and regional communities. A lot of the adult music activities are really just the same as any other retail or commercial enterprise. There’s nothing rebellious about merchandising. But what makes something a scene, really? It is nice to see that continued involvement, though. Makes me feel like less of a loser for still caring, too. Ha.

What were your main goals for the book? In other words, what do you hope a young kid from the Midwest, who may not have any preconceived notions about New Brunswick or the bands that come from there, will retain from their reading of the book?
Well, although the book does take place in a certain location and in a particular timeframe, and it does deal with punk, hardcore and bands, I really tried to make it something anyone, anywhere can relate to. Really, to me that should be the goal of a memoir, no matter how specific it’s content or context might be; to be as universal as possible. I think that’s a big reason people write , to try collectively to capture a picture of society or civilization. But beyond all that cosmic mumbo-jumbo, I think anyone who feels that music has influenced the direction of their life will connect with this book. Especially if they have an interest in punk rock and hardcore. Finally, I just hope that people remember some of the amazing music and individuals that came from this particular time and place, and that they do their best to make their own time and place equally or more amazing.

Since you have always been a proponent of zines and other paper-print sources, what are your feelings on the shift towards online publishing, e-zines and the blogsphere in general?
I love online publishing, but it does lack certain attributes that have made print feel so special to me in the past. But c’mon, the DIY-happy 90s kids would have gone bonkers for podcasting. Blogs are awesome, too, just because I think it’s good for people to write. And webzines definitely allow for dimensions print publications could never offer. Obviously, where that’s most obvious is in broadcast ability. The world is now able to see you instantly, and that’s powerful compared to the pre-social network days. That said, there are downsides. Fanzines are great artifacts and one of the things I used to really love was tracking them down. Zines weren’t always so easy to find, which made them feel special and cool. I write about that a lot in my book. Still, my biggest gripe is that some new mediums allow people to express themselves very structured and pre-determined ways. How fucking obvious is it to list your favorite movies? I’d much rather hear a song you wrote or see a painting you did. So when online profiles satiate the need to express oneself, I really wonder what else that person might have accomplished if they hadn’t been spoon-fed a completely innocuous way to tell the world what they think.

Any final shout-outs?
If you’re in Jersey City and you want sick tats, go see Adam Paterson at Body & Soul Tattoo. Also, Zombie Apocalypse is still a band.

Also be sure to check out Ronen’s awesome podcast, Issue Oriented, here.

Ronen Kaufman

Tags: Interview, Ronen Kauffman //