Jonathan Richman
The Great Hall
Toronto, ON

It’s been over 40 years since Jonathan Richman turned his back on the minimalist proto-punk approach to rock and roll that made him famous. In fact, the raunchy garage sounds of the original Modern Lovers lineup was abandoned by Richman before their one and only record was even released. This came as a baffling shock to those just discovering the next-level sounds of Richman, only to find their new favorite album to be a posthumous relic. Compiled from a 1973 recording session produced by John Cale, the album offered the world’s first glimpse into the unique, spontaneous brain of Jonathan Richman. It also provided the final sounds of his gritty electric backing. A few years before the album’s eventual release in ‘76, The Lovers accepted a residency in Bermuda where Richman became enamored with the relaxed island style of acoustic guitar. The effect on him was so profound that Richman promptly traded in his electric rock and roll for an acoustic-laden style of musical whimsy characterized by Caribbean rhythms and comically naive subject matter ranging from the ice cream man to what it might have been like to be a dinosaur. Should the mood strike him in concert, he’d even walk on all fours like a dinosaur to demonstrate the hypothetical. The new punks of the late 70’s, heavily influenced by Richman’s early output, didn’t know what to make of their hero’s drastic tonal change and rejected his comical approach as unserious. Yet far more than any punk, Richman simply could not help being himself and his shift to spontaneous acoustic songs turned out to be no passing phase. Richman’s been practicing this style for the better part of 40 years now, and whether he’s backed by alternate variations of a Modern Lovers backup band, or simply his percussionist partner in crime, Tommy Larkins, Richman has managed to stay fresh with each new album and tour.

Over the last few years, Richman has primarily been touring with just Tommy, who you may remember playing alongside Richman in There’s Something About Mary. They’re even apt to play “Let Her Go Into The Darkness” – an especially poignant song from that madcap comedy. The feel of their live show is very similar to how they appear in the film. Jonathan, the animated songsmith, is a delightful presence, who looks even more amusing when standing next to Larkins, the stoic backing drummer who coldly drums minimalist beats in dark shades. Tommy’s detached aura is the perfect contrast to the high volume of emotive character coming from Richman. The fact that it seems Larkins is having way less fun than Richman makes their odd-couple relationship wonderfully curious – especially since it seems they’ve been joined at the hip for the last 15 years.

I caught Richman and Larkins at The Great Hall in Toronto. I’ve seen the duo twice before and having been endlessly gratified by both prior performances, I didn’t need Jonathan to blow me away as he’d done twice already. I didn’t even expect it and yet it happened again. Richman at 62 years old is still one of the youngest seeming performers touring. Song after song, Richman had the audience shifting between rapt attention and hysterical laughter. Like a skilled comedian, Richman’s wit is razor sharp as are his instincts for songwriting. When someone interrupted one of his tangents with a song request causing him to lose his train of thought, he switched topics to the impoliteness of interrupting via a song written before the audience’s eyes. And it was good! When I say he’s making it up as he goes along I’m not just referring to the lyrics. He’s able to pull chords out of his endless well of ideas and literally write a song before your eyes, figuring it out with each step and giving the audience a clear window into what surely must be his songwriting process.

The set featured many favorites such as “I Was Dancing in the Lesbian Bar” and “Keith Richards” , as well as newer offerings and a great deal of improv, much of which included Richman taking dance breaks with a stone-faced Tommy providing the beat for JR’s wild movements. He even demonstrated how the boys and girls of the infamous lesbian bar were dancing all those years ago. But though you can count on Richman to sing yuks and act the dancing fool, he is anything but predictable, and to dismiss him as a comedy-artist is to miss the point entirely. While he may have you smiling in delight one minute, in the next, the great poet that he is will shine through with a lyric so wise and to the heart of a subject it’s chilling.

His understanding of rock and roll, as exhibited in those early Modern Lovers recordings, is still in evidence, only Jonathan has taken his influences to the playground, imparting his holy goof philosophy that art isn’t about rules. And neither are his concerts. For example, when the time came for his encore, rather than leaving the stage, Richman simply stated “okay, it’s encore time” . It’s always fun to see people see JR perform for the first time. His shows are full of surprises and it reads on the faces of everyone present. The crowd, full of old fans and new, still dazzled from the output of creative whimsy they’d just witnessed, were all smiles as they anticipated one last laugh or croon. What Jonathan offered for an encore that night, in keeping with his tremendous talent for bold unpredictability, was the furthest thing from whimsical. It was a truly gut wrenching lament to his deceased mother called “As My Mother Lay Lying.” It described, in painfully real poetic detail, Jonathan’s experience during his final days visiting his restless mother “just trying to get a little sleep” . And then “Goodnight” he says, leaving the crowd mouths agape to deal with the intense dichotomy of subject matter. I was blown away.