Dicking Around With A Proto-Punk Legend

The original modern lover

I’ve been told by people who know such things that Jonathan Richman is still a boy in a man’s body, and one – no less – who spends his latter days prolonging youth with an elemental attraction to college campuses.

Having just spent an hour dicking around with Jonathan Richman, I can say in full faith that both these things are absolutely true, though I would add that he seems to have a healthy appetite for “substances” as well.

He called me “John” and then explained through circuitous alphabet-hopping – they both have an “o”, for instance – how “John” is like “Robbie”.

Whatever. I asked him what a Kookenhaken was… and got an answer. A word he heard when he was six – it has a Dutch tie-in.

Jonathan Richman sings me a song. This happened in a dream once.

Richman is a singer-songwriter who writes stunningly beautiful pieces of pure bullshit. In this way, he is something of a genius. He is also a genius in the way of penning one of the greatest rock ‘n roll albums of all-time, the 1973 proto-punk masterwork, The Modern Lovers.

On Monday, in advance of a gig in Gainesville, he was playing Tommy James and the Shondells records in-studio at Grow Radio… when I was supposed to be prepping for my show. Ten people were listening. I ran into a punk hero. These things happen. I guess.

I wanted to ask him if he’s ever seen Cameron Diaz’s tits. Instead we talked about his tour and kookenhakens. I told him Pitchfork gave his last solo record a really nice review. He seemed more impressed with the kookenhaken question. I think he was tripping.

He has the voice of a hundred Lou Reeds. The Sex Pistols covered one of his songs. He appeared in There’s Something About Mary. His first record changed the course of popular music. The Strokes ape his sound. He wrote one of my favorite songs. And right now – on a warm winter day in Gainesville – Jonathan Richman seems pretty seriously fucked up.

- Robbie