Quiet is the new loud. First struck by Richman’s constantly dopey expression, with the eyes of a cult-member and a mouth that is always slightly open. I like some of his songs just fine and I love his early Modern Lovers work, but the last time I saw him, I was bored stiff. The music was the same tonight—Spanish guitar, tribal drums, jazzy singer/songwriter, kind of jammy, mostly anti-pop—but the vibe with the crowd was all different. It was an intimate setting, and his lyrics were allowed to shine. Jonathan to the crowd: “Don’t just stare! What’s the point?” It was a poetry slam with a Sesame Street sensibility. He managed to pull off a performance that approached The Mountain Goats brilliance at live shows, giving off the feeling that we were privy to personal revelations. The first time he started dancing like a painfully white boy, it was hilarious. Jonathan on growing up weird: “My parents trusted me on the way to bohemia…” Jonathan on the tactlessness of ‘picking up’ a girl: “Hey, let’s pick up a 6-pack, 2 tires, and 2 girls…” Jonathan on your girlfriend leaving you for her old boyfriend: “Well, she’s back with her old boyfriend… Just let her go into the darkness… You want to tell her, her boyfriend’s no friend…Just take them sheets to the Laundromat!” Jonathan on building walls around yourself: “When we refuse to suffer, we refuse to feel, we can’t fall in love, … but we can have sexual relations.” Jonathan on his pretentious adolescence: “I talked with an accent I didn’t even have… in my affected accent [Jonathan as the crowd’s response: his affected accent]… such a brat… I should have been bullied more than I was.” The thing is, he’s still that adolescent. He sang Pablo Picasso with a fake little accent. He loves to slip into singing in different languages. The kooky dancing wasn’t funny after the first few times. All of his overt attempts to be eccentric just create distance. Still really enjoyed the show.