John Ondrasik – better known by his musical moniker, Five for Fighting – has built a career around songs that seem to grow alongside the people who listen to them. Whether it’s the vulnerability of songs like “Superman (It’s Not Easy),” to the inward reflection of “100 Years,” Ondrasik’s songs have explored time, mortality, family and the fleeting nature of life.
Now in his early 60s, the artist continues to find new ways of breathing life into his catalog. His latest tour finds him performing with a string quartet, giving familiar songs new arrangements and emotional weight. His shows often feature a family connection, as the duo Lace and Lee—featuring Ondrasik’s daughter, aspiring singer/songwriter Olivia, joins him on the road.
I recently spoke with Ondrasik about revisiting his music, the unlikely story behind “Superman,” the possibility of another Five for Fighting album, and the song he’s still chasing.
In addition to the traditional rock band, you’ve been performing your songs with a string quartet. Do they take on a different meaning for you when you hear them presented this way?
John Ondrasik: It’s another dimension. Certain songs have built-in arrangements, and one reason I like doing the rock band in the summer and the string quartet in the spring and fall is that it gives me the chance to pull different songs from the catalog for each permutation.
There are obvious songs that fit the quartet, like “Two Lights” and “The Devil in the Wishing Well.” But even songs like “100 Years” and “Superman” have strings that are more like pads — they’re there for feel. Then you take something like “Easy Tonight,” which has no strings at all, and add them. We’ll do “Hope” a cappella with the quartet and songs like “If God Made You.”
I don’t want to call it a rebirth of the songs, but it really is another dimension. I’m blessed to play with some of the best players in the world, and that’s not an exaggeration. Every night there’s something where I’m like, “Wow. Where did that come from?” And I’ve also asked my arranger to do a string arrangement for “’65 Mustang,” so we’ll be playing that on this tour.
Your songs frequently deal with time and appreciating what we have. Was that something you consciously set out to write about?
Ondrasik: Not really. If you look back at “Superman,” I was a young songwriter facing rejection from the music business. Everybody experiences that sometime in their life. Frankly, I couldn’t write that song now. I’ve learned it’s pretty easy to be me. With “100 Years,” the sentiment is to appreciate the moment. I had some success, and I was dwelling on the past and future-tripping. Then I had this moment with my two little kids sitting on my lap, and I thought, “Look what you have right here. Can you just enjoy it for two seconds?” That turned into the song.
A lot of my themes are things people feel every day. Maybe that’s why they relate to them. Maybe I just say them a little differently.
“Superman” recently marked its 25th anniversary. Has your relationship with that song changed?
Ondrasik: Yes and no. Obviously, we’re at the 25th anniversary of 9/11, and every time September rolls around it gets a little heavier and brings us back to that. But the song has also resonated with Jewish people around the world because I did a new version for the hostages. It has this completely new life that I never could have imagined. “100 Years” is a song you can grow with. I’m actually in the middle of that now. “Superman” is a little different, but it’s been used in so many different ways. The fact that it still resonates almost as much as it did twenty-five years ago is pretty wild. It was just a little song we almost didn’t put on the record, and here we are, all these years later.
How does a song that almost didn’t make the album become the song that changed everything?
Ondrasik: Back then, I fancied myself a rocker. I listened to Zeppelin, The Who and Journey, and most of my songs were rock songs. When I wrote “Superman,” I played it for my producer at the time. We both thought it was kind of cool, but I was like, “It’s a ballad. Maybe I should pitch it to someone else.” But as we went through the recording process, we kept coming back to it and thought, maybe there was something there. We used to call it “that little song.” That little song keeps on trucking.
After having that kind of breakthrough, did you feel pressure to repeat it?
Ondrasik: I think the challenge was understanding that to follow “Superman,” I needed a song that lived in that world without regurgitating it. There are so many examples of one-hit wonders who have a hit and then basically put out the same song again. It took about two and a half years to write “100 Years.”
When I wrote it, I thought, “I don’t know if this is going to be a hit, but this is a song that can exist without ‘Superman.’” It’s the same guy, the same voice, the same register, but the concept has nothing to do with “Superman.”
What does your songwriting process look like? Melody first? Lyrics? An idea?
Ondrasik: Most of my songs probably started with melody at the piano, but not all of them. Sometimes I’d write a full lyric and do the Elton John/Bernie Taupin thing — write the lyric and then put music to it. Other songs start as concepts. “100 Years” was a concept. It started with appreciating that moment, and then I thought maybe the verses should represent stages of our lives.
Sometimes something inspires, frustrates or angers you. But a lot of it is sitting at the piano and saying here’s a melody, or here’s a phrase. You do hundreds of hours of that, listen back and pick something out. A lot of it isn’t romantic. It’s work ethic and grinding and hoping the stars align once in a while.
You’ve also written songs that make people think about how quickly life moves. At this point in your own life, what are you still chasing?
Ondrasik: I’m still chasing my best song. I’d like to think my best one is still ahead of me. I’m also looking to appreciate life beyond music. I’m in my early 60s, at a time where I can still do a lot physically and see the world. My wife and I want to do things we’ve talked about doing for a long time. That said, I do think another Five for Fighting record is in my future. My daughter Olivia is an aspiring songwriter, and I’ve been in the studio with her. She’s gotten me excited about recording, arranging and production — all the stuff that goes into making a record. Even though nobody really makes records anymore, I will.
In a way, the circle has come full. When I was young, I wrote songs because I loved doing it. There wasn’t an agenda or pressure to have a hit. I’m back at that place.
When you look back, what career moment stands above the others?
Ondrasik: The most significant thing I’ll ever do was The Concert for New York, performing for the nation and with the firefighters. There are others, like performing at Hostages Square. Then, as a sports fan, I’ve gotten to play Monday Night Football, Dodger Stadium, The Daytona 500. Those things have given me a lot of joy, pride… and nerves.
Twenty-five years from now, when someone hears the name Five for Fighting, what do you hope they remember?
Ondrasik: I hope people felt this guy was authentic and left us a couple of songs that made us shed a tear or smile — or maybe both. I’ve been incredibly blessed to still be doing this and to have people buying tickets and singing these songs back to me. I definitely don’t take it for granted. And on this tour, having my daughter opening for me and being out on the road together? What else could a dad ask for?
The Seventh Echo is available now from
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© 2026 James Wood
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