Jonathan Richman interview, 1984
“There's something I want to happen in the audience, and it's hard to put into words, feeling is as close as I can get."
Happy birthday to Jonathan Richman (for this week).
I first saw Jonathan Richman at Hammersmith Odeon in the summer of 1977. It was one of the two shows recorded for the Modern Lovers Live LP. No-one knew what to expect: we’d only heard his single Roadrunner, already a proto-punk classic. The show was nothing like that, but it was brilliant all the same. It was the first time I’d heard Morning of Our Lives, which became one of my favourite songs.
I first met Jonathan after one of his two gigs at Eric’s in Liverpool in June 1978. By then I’d already written him a fan letter, got a friendly reply and bought all the available records. He took the time to sit and chat to me when I asked, and I was even more of a fan after that.
I saw him four times on that tour: twice in Liverpool, once in Manchester and once in London. The video below, recorded for Dutch TV in September 1978, gives you a flavour of what he and his band were like at the time.
I interviewed him in 1984, when he was playing at the Hacienda in Manchester. He knew I was a fan, but it wasn’t the easiest interview I’ve ever done. He was, understandably, cautious with journalists because he’d been stitched up a few times. But he did write afterwards and say “I saw the interview. It came out nice! Thank you.”
Here’s the article. I didn’t write the snarky strapline, obviously. That was a Melody Maker subeditor.
If I were a Richman
Melody Maker, August 18, 1984
The... er... eccentric JONATHAN RICHMAN finally stands still long enough to talk to Penny Kiley. Photo: Gary Lornie
THEY were only supposed to be the support group. I wasn't looking at my watch but the ovation that followed the Modern Lovers at Hammersmith Palais a few weeks ago could have gone on all night.
Orange Juice, the ostensible headliners, though they acquitted themselves magnificently, will probably never be the same again. It must have been the most alarming demonstration of appreciation that's ever been seen for a half-hour set from an obscure American support act whose last British hit was five years ago.
Jonathan Richman, though, is the cult figure to put all cult figures to shame. His fans have a tenacious loyalty that makes everyone else seem indifferent (I confess - I've been waiting five years for this interview!), and a fervour that can be frightening.
The man's first appearance on these shores, heralded by the punks' favourite "Roadrunner" in 1977, amazed a lot of people. This summer, with "Roadrunner", "Egyptian Reggae" and "Morning Of Our Lives" relegated to the golden oldie section of the general public's memory, Jonathan Richman returned to Britain - his first appearance here for two years - and, calmly, took London by storm once again.
How did he do it? He sang a handful of songs, about a beach and a city, a painter and an ice cream man, music and dancing, affection, oh, and Martian tourists. He was accompanied by a small group. The three musicians who make up the current Modern Lovers are Curly Keranen on bass, who's been a Modern Lover on and off since the second LP; sweet-voiced singer Ellie Marshall, from Jonathan's home town of Boston, who's been with the group for five years; and drummer Michael Gardabascio, playing just a small hand drum, who joined in 1980.
"For rock 'n' roll, really simple kind of rock 'n' roll, you don't need many instruments or anything," Jonathan will tell you. For him, the simplest things work best: "The simplest things with me and the audience and the less in between the better".
Jonathan once recorded the old Showmen song "It Will Stand" - one of the most potent testimonies of the power of rock 'n' roll - and now he's written his own version of that statement. It's called "This Kind Of Music" and it's on the latest Modern Lovers LP. That's "Jonathan Sings", brought to you courtesy of Rough Trade, the only record company with the wisdom to release it over here.
It was recorded two years ago (and released in the US and elsewhere) for Sire, who have since dropped the group. Jonathan Richman never had much luck with record companies.
His last Berserkely LP, in 1979, was called "Back In Your Life", and after a series of ups and downs here he is back in ours again. A month after the triumph at Hammersmith, the Modern Lovers returned from a trek round Europe for a full-scale British tour. They've temporarily lost their drummer due to illness - that just means Jonathan has to stamp his feet a bit more on stage -but the shows are just as good. I catch up with their magic minimalism in Manchester, and it's marvellous.
A MODERN Lovers show is an irresistible mixture of romance, nostalgia, idiocy, spontaneity, and celebration, bound together with one man's personality. Jonathan Richman has the ability to command warmth, even love, from an audience in a way that's rare and unusual, but which he seems to take for granted.
How does he explain such adulation? "I'm straightforward," he says, straightforwardly, "I think that's why. In other words, I look the audience in the eye. It's something that most performers don't do nowadays, it seems to me." Do people need that so much, then? "Maybe, and also it's fun sometimes!"
There's an extraordinary chemistry in Jonathan Richman's best shows - I call it charisma, though he won't - but it doesn't do to analyse it too much, because if you do you will forget the fun. I've laughed more - and more healthily - in a Modern Lovers show than in any other. Not for nothing were those 1977 gigs billed as "the most fun you can have with your clothes on".
So how does he want his audience to feel?
"That's it. I want them to feel! I don't want them to think, I want them to feel after they've seen me play. Happy and sad, but to feel."
Modern Lovers songs in fact do tend to fall into two types, the humorous (Jonathan isn't ashamed to call them "novelty songs") and the love songs (the balance in one show depends only on what Jonathan feels like at the time) - "and sometimes," he reminds me, "the two are the same thing."
Jonathan doesn't like explanations, any more than he likes interviews.
Offstage he's reserved, though not uncooperative, and certainly lacks that facility to oil the wheels of communication that most of his countrymen seem born with. Paradoxically though, there are songs of his — remember "Morning Of Our Lives" - that are extraordinarily, even embarrassingly, open, and on stage he gives away more than most people would dare to (this is probably why he gets laughed at sometimes - though he gets laughed with a lot more).
I ask him if there's a contradiction there: "It's like a balance, cos I've thought of that too. I think that's why I'm so private that way - I tell on stage so - it's kind of like a rest, you know."
There's an uncompromising individuality there that may be childlike but is certainly not childish. And there's a lot of moral courage in his songs - he's been accused of being naive (or, worse, mock-naive) - but his stance is just too unconventional for the conventional rebels to handle.
From the legendary "I'm Straight" of the youthful Richman, through "Respect" and "Affection" (still a stage favourite) on "Back In Your Life" to "The Neighbours" on "Jonathan Sings", there's a thread - something to do with honesty.
The offstage Jonathan, though, will deny it. There's only one message he'll agree to. "Feeling. That's it. There's something I want to happen in the audience, and it's hard to put into words, feeling is as close as I can get."
There's nothing more specific that he'll admit to: "I don't want that. I don't like it. I want this magic to happen."
It sounds so simple.
"It is simple. Isn't it?"
Watch Jonathan on TV
This TopPop Special recorded for Dutch TV in September 1978 gives you a flavour of what Jonathan was like at the time. Sorry about the ads.
Never seen Richman live, regrettably!