Addicted To Noise Philadelphia correspondent Chris Nelson reports: The last time Jonathan Richman played the Theatre of the Living Arts in Philadelphia, he left the stage for intermission, only to return a few minutes later. Squinting into the spotlight, he asked, "Would anybody mind if we moved these chairs?"
That night was the first time Jonathan had been booked in the TLA, a former movie theater that holds 800 people standing, or 400 when temporary chairs are set up. Since Jojo used to play a Philly room that held just a hundred people, it must have seemed natural to arrange the TLA for its smaller, seated capacity.
It didn't, however, seem natural to Jonathan. "You see," he explained, "I need to see people dance,and you can't dance with all these chairs on the floor." Now, rock stars are known for encouraging people to rip up their seats, but Jonathan was politely asking for the management's permission to do so. "I'll help move 'em if you want. We can all pitch in, and stack 'em in an orderly fashion on the side. What do you say?" he asked the crowd. Five minutes later the floor was cleared, the chairs were stacked, and both Jojo and the audience were much happier.
When the Modern Lovers founder returned to the TLA on Tues. night (April 9), almost a year to the day from the collective chair-piling gig, the management made sure that the chairs were not set up. They know Jonathan now.
For his part, Jonathan seems to know his loyal audience wherever he goes. He certainly sensed that Philadelphians, aghast at a snowy evening this late in the year, would love nothing more than to see him to start the show with "That Summer Feeling."
Jonathan's onstage relationship with his fans rivals that of artists like Springsteen or the Grateful Dead, although his is on a much more intimate and human scale (in contrast to the dramatic, often larger than life, scale of Springsteen's shows, or to the communal nature of Dead concerts).
For example, three songs into the set, Jonathan knelt down at stage right to tune his guitar. Breaking the silence, someone a few feet back on the floor asked quite graciously, "Hey, Jonathan...?"
Jonathan: "Yeah?"
Fan: "Will you play 'When Harpo Played His Harp' sometime tonight?"
Jonathan: "OK."
When he was finished with his guitar, Jonathan stood up, walked over to the microphone, and immediately began a delicate, and then eventually rocking, delivery of "Harpo."
This is a standard transaction at a Jonathan Richman performance. That's not to say that Jonathan strictly caters to his fans. Several songs later, someone asked as politely as the first request maker for "Dodge Veg-O-Matic." Jonathan smiled broadly, but shook his head before beginning "Fender Stratocaster" instead.
Without question, Jonathan's biggest assets as a performer are his honesty and sincerity. That's especially true for the latest stage of his career, largely defined by his string of releases since the late '80s on Rounder Records. Contrary to the first phase, which gave us Jonathan the proto-punk, or to the middle years, which saw him turn to child-like themes, this current period finds Jonathan examining ever more adult, and sometimes dark, subject matter.
Take his second number of the show, "Let Her Go Into the Darkness." With its title refrain cautioning against protection, and followed by the difficult advice to "Let her learn from all the things there," the song pricks the listener under the skin to explore very intimate, real life moral decisions. "To Hide a Little Thought," from the same album (last year's You Must Ask the Heart), delves into similar territory. Because of the honesty and intimacy of both Jonathan's writing and delivery, these songs have the potential to strike the listener's heart in darker places than the work of more sinister sounding bands such as Ministry or Korn. Indeed, Jonathan Richman has the skill to probe ethical dark sides as well as Springsteen did with his Tunnel of Love material, although Jonathan's explorations may be even scarier because his performances are more intimate and less dramatic than Bruce's.
Of course, Jonathan can rock out in his own way, too, as evidenced by his inclusion of songs like "Vampire Girl," "Fender Stratocaster," and "I Was Dancing in the Lesbian Bar" at the TLA. Watching Jojo step away from the microphone to ditch his guitar, than shake his hips and belt lyrics a cappella, is one of the prime reasons to go to his shows.
And while Jonathan's long been known for traveling by himself, lately he's been bringing drummer Tommy Larkins on the road with him. Larkins, a master of understated and attentive playing, superbly complements Jonathan's presence. At the TLA, even his drum solo was subtle.
The pair's last song before a single encore was a tender new number called "Surrender." You'll be able to find it on Surrender To Jonathan, Jojo's upcoming release for Neil Young's Vapor label. If you've never caught Jonathan's show before, catch it now. And if you bone up on the Jojo songbook ahead of time, feel free to make polite requests. There's a good chance he'll indulge you.
-- Music News of the World Addicted to Noise 10 April 1996
No comments:
Post a Comment