CONCERT REVIEW: Jonathan Richman @ Union Transfer, 6/8

POSTED: Monday, June 11, 2012, 12:00 PM

Filed Under: Music Concert Review

When a singer is still performing after four decades, you have to wonder if the audience knows about the the artistry and pizzazz of his former days, or if the show will be a pity party with murmurings of “it's so great he can still stand on stage ...” At 62, Jonathan Richman certainly ran the risk of falling into that latter category, yet his performance at Union Transfer possessed all the energy and wit that has earned him a cult following since his days with the Modern Lovers. In a loose green linen shirt and his signature goofy smile, he looked the part of an improv dance instructor; a dorky but likeable sage whose eager stare dares you to loosen up and get far outside your element.

His booming, elegant voice suggests he's avoided the pitfalls of many in the rockstar life, providing the youthful sound to match his equally vibrant delivery. Beyond his voice, Richman's timelessness can be attributed to the off-the-wall style he's always brought to his songwriting. Whereas most singers stick to the tried-and-true topics of heartbreak, love and longing, these topics grow old, particularly from the voice of an older man. Richman stands apart in that he's always known that the human experience offers a far wider variety of song material. With titles like “Lonely Little Thrift Store,” “Salvador Dali” and “Weeds Breaking Through the Concrete,” Richman's songs can feel like children's stories, appealing to the full scope of human imagination.

These stories come alive on stage, where he strings them together in a cabaret style, taking the audience on a journey through various emotions and confessions of self-growth. With the suitable backdrop of his Spanish-twanged guitar and Tommy Larkin's light percussions, he chronicles a life of joy and missteps, proudly retelling how his childhood urge to ditch the Boston 'burbs led him on a search for “Bohemia.” He sings of the affected accent he adopted during high school, attempting to make it big among the scenesters of the early '70s. Indeed, his teenage infatuation with the Velvet Underground once led him to New York, where he slept on their manager's couch, trying and failing to “make it” as a musician before returning to Boston. Although he recounts those years with a heavy dose of sarcasm, the voice with which he speaks and sings reflects that yearning: While he rambles like a philosopher, his blue-collar Boston accent keeps his feet planted firmly on the ground.

If there was a theme connecting the night's musical stories of humor and honesty, it would probably be the general desire to have fun. At various points between songs, Richman would explain “If the next song has a lot of Italian/Arabic/Hebrew, don't worry it's all just different ways of saying 'come to my party.” This diversion into various langauges effectively drove home the universality of our communal need to be social. As he delivered his Boston-tinged take on singing in any number of foreign languages, it became clear that the message remains the same despite the language. Undeniably impressive, the multililingualism worked to highlight an underlying truism in all of Richman's music: It's about the ideas over the complexity of the rhythms, the stories over their melodies. Like a child with a discovery too big for words language offers him, Richman's enthusiasm takes you over and beyond his own music. Standing in his presence, it's difficult to resist a world where growing old is simply having more conviction in your own passion.

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