I remember dance moves. My god! were there dance moves!
Going to see Jonathan Richman perform is to be reminded of those times when you just LOVE music. I'm talking unbridled, child-like joy culled purely from the experience of sound. Armed only with a classical guitar and Tommy Larkins on drums, Johnathan Richman is out to entertain, plain and simple. And only a soulless person would be able to wipe the smile off their face for more than half a song during The Jonathan Richman Show.
Even in the thrall of this spectacle, I like to imagine Jonathan Richman "writing" songs in his bedroom. It's a fun game because I'm pretty sure it looks exactly like what we get to see on stage, but with him standing on his bed. His performance style is so infectiously unselfconscious, it seems pulled directly from a private moment you wouldn't dare let your friends see. Dancing, mid-song breaks to reason through the song's premise, guitar twirls, passionate singing, and a great big smile when the music stops.
Confession time: I haven't picked up Richman's last few releases. But that doesn't matter, I wouldn't have known the songs tonight even if I had. We're not supposed to know them, that's part of the deal with Jonathan Richman. He managed to tell the crowd "I'm not going to play any of your favorite songs tonight" and sound like he really knew what was best for us. Nobody even looked upset. He's just too pure in his intentions to feel slighted. New songs every time you see him, but you still get exactly what you were expecting. There was a song about hair product (no 's'), another about Italian parties, or maybe just a song about parties in Italian (there were romance languages in spades), and countless other peculiar, doe-eyed observations about life, love and music.
As Mr. Richman put it while explaining the lack of hits in his set list, "It's got to be spontaneous. It's got to be spontaneous, or we don't want it!" Damn straight.
