Jonathan Richman comes from another world. His songs tell us about his experiences on the “astral plane” and a girl he knew in some “ancient long ago” time. So when he steps up onto the stage of Paris’ Fleche D’Or (Golden Arrow), an old train station turned music venue, with long time drummer Tommy Larkins, you know you’re in for something unusual. After a brief introduction Richman explains to the sweaty mass of people before him that he asked the venue to turn off the air conditioner earlier in the evening because he’s just “like that.” He holds his guitar close to his face and begins to strum, as my boyfriend leans down and whispers, “He has crazy eyes!” I nod my head. He does.
Richman is now bilingual and seems quite comfortable with his command of French. He asks the crowd how it’s going, tells stories, changes his voice, and translates lyrics originally written in English to something more suitable for the European crowd. At one point he asks for a lesson on the gender of the noun “mystère” (it’s masculine) before using it in a song. As a recent ex-pat, I’m still learning French myself, but I could tell from the reactions amongst the crown that even in another language Jonathan Richman is as charming and hilarious as ever.
He begins with “Vermeer” and barely takes breaks between the next hour of songs, often using various Spanish-style guitar solos to segue from one song to the next. The set-list is comprised of almost exclusively his foreign language songs, which draw primarily from the more recent portion of his catalogue. The oldest song he plays is “Old World” but with changed lyrics and a new playing style that make it almost unrecognizable. While the fans seem happy to be there, nothing really gets them going until his second to last song, which has the entire room chanting about dancing in the lesbian bar, ah-oh ah-oh. Earlier in the set he played “Let Her Go Into the Darkness.” Both classic and much adored, but perhaps two songs those of us who’ve been to a Richman show before have seen performed too many times.
Throughout the night, Richman steps aside to shimmy and shake with sleigh bells in hand. His lack of self-consciousness about looking so ridiculous makes you realize just how cool he is. Richman’s song-writing and performance style have changed much over his several-decade-long career but his simple arrangements and lyrics still remind us of a simpler time – a time of valuing our local corner store over the new corporate retail mall or taking the time to celebrate “that summer feeling.” As I watch Richman move around on the stage and stare out over the crowd, I know he is far away in a place most of us are still trying desperately to get back to.
