Jonathan Richman stands as a pivotal figure in music history, often heralded as a progenitor of punk and indie rock, despite mainstream recognition eluding him. His band, The Modern Lovers, though commercially underrated in their time, has exerted an outsized influence on generations of musicians. Ernie Brooks, a founding member of The Modern Lovers, alongside Richman, provides a unique window into the formation and ethos of this groundbreaking band, offering insights into the singular vision of Jonathan Richman.
Encounters in Cambridge: The Genesis of a Unique Sound
Brooks recounts his initial exposure to Jonathan Richman through Jerry Harrison, his Harvard roommate and future Talking Heads keyboardist. Harrison, captivated by Richman’s performances on the Cambridge Commons, urged Brooks to witness “this weird guy” whose music was undeniably “cool.” Richman’s early stage presence was distinctive – conservative suits, white shirts, ties, and short hair – a stark contrast to the burgeoning counter-culture, yet intriguingly confrontational.
(Alt text: Jonathan Richman passionately sings and plays guitar on stage, embodying his unique performance style.)
Richman’s band at the time, featuring David Robinson on drums and another musician named Rolf on bass, delivered free shows on the Commons. His instrument of choice, a blue Jazzmaster guitar adorned with Howard Johnson’s decals, and his minimalist approach – primarily playing in E minor – were as unconventional as his lyrics. Brooks recalls the line “I see the restaurant. It is my friend,” illustrating Richman’s poetic ability to find profundity in the everyday.
Brooks, a Harvard student immersed in poetry under the tutelage of Elizabeth Bishop and Robert Creeley, immediately recognized the “visionary poetry” in Richman’s work. This connection between profound poetic roots and mundane subject matter was a key element that drew Brooks into Richman’s orbit.
“I’m Straight”: Authenticity and Unconventionality
The song “I’m Straight” encapsulates a core aspect of Jonathan Richman’s persona: his unwavering commitment to a drug-free, authentic existence. Brooks narrates an anecdote where Jerry Harrison’s attempt to introduce Richman to marijuana resulted in Richman’s comical yet earnest declaration of needing to “hurt somebody” to understand the altered state. This incident underscored Richman’s genuine, almost defiant, straight-edge lifestyle, making “I’m Straight” a truthful anthem reflecting his personal ethos.
Before their Cambridge encounters, Jonathan Richman’s deep dive into the New York music scene included sleeping on Lou Reed’s couch and a brief, unsuccessful stint as a busboy at Max’s Kansas City. Despite his lack of busboy skills, his passion for the Velvet Underground and The Stooges was fervent. He became a constant advocate for The Stooges, a band whose raw energy and primal sound, paradoxically, didn’t overtly mirror Richman’s own emerging musical style, yet held a profound influence.
Danny Fields, a pivotal figure in the rock and roll scene, facilitated the meeting between Jonathan Richman and Brooks and Harrison at their apartment. Richman’s impromptu performances, using any available instrument or simply clapping and singing, became a hallmark of his spontaneous creativity. This initial meeting revealed a shared intellectual ground, particularly a mutual appreciation for the poetry of Yeats, bridging highbrow literary tradition with raw rock and roll.
“I’ve Got the AM Radio On”: Finding Light in Darkness
Jonathan Richman’s appreciation for poetry extended beyond Yeats to an understanding of the raw power of The Stooges’ rhythm section. While acknowledging the darkness inherent in the Velvet Underground’s music, Brooks theorizes that The Modern Lovers’ sound aimed for the opposite – an embrace of light. This wasn’t to dismiss the expression of pain in art, but to suggest a hopeful counterpoint, a “way out of the pain.”
(Alt text: Black and white photo of the original Modern Lovers band members, showcasing their 1970s style.)
The nascent Modern Lovers secured their first gig at a teen center in Natick, Massachusetts. Rehearsals took place in drummer David Robinson’s basement, fueled by tuna fish sandwiches provided by Robinson’s mother. Jon Felice, Richman’s childhood friend, joined on guitar, adding another layer to the band’s dynamic, albeit marked by frequent departures and returns due to clashes with Richman. These early gigs, though “dippy,” were formative, leading to aspirations for more prestigious venues, like Harvard mixers.
“The Mixer” and Adolescent Isolation
Playing Harvard mixers exposed The Modern Lovers to indifferent audiences primarily focused on socializing rather than music. Their song “The Mixer,” a humorous critique of the superficiality of these events, often fell flat, perhaps lost in the poor sound systems. This experience underscored a recurring theme: Jonathan Richman’s music, while insightful and original, often operated on a different wavelength than mainstream expectations.
Brooks delves into Jonathan Richman’s perceived isolation and adolescent struggles, particularly his awkwardness in social interactions, especially with girls. Richman’s fascination with the “astral plane” as a realm for connection, inspired by Van Morrison’s Astral Weeks, led to the song “The Astral Plane.” This song reflects Richman’s belief in communicating with others on a spiritual level, bypassing the complexities of everyday interactions.
“I’m In Love with The Modern World”: Songwriting and Creative Tension
“Roadrunner,” arguably The Modern Lovers’ most iconic song, emerged from Jonathan Richman’s lyrical and conceptual nucleus, with the band collaboratively crafting the arrangement. Creative disagreements were inherent in their process, sparking debates over song selection and arrangements. Despite these tensions, a consensus on splitting publishing royalties equally fostered a sense of collective ownership and helped offset band expenses.
Early Modern Lovers’ performances included Jonathan Richman displaying his drawings on an easel, pre-empting songs with lyrical recitations linked to the visuals. This multimedia approach showcased Richman’s multifaceted artistic vision. Danny Fields’ efforts eventually garnered attention from Lillian Roxon of the Daily News, whose article triggered a surge of interest from record labels. The pinnacle of this early attention was Clive Davis of Columbia Records attending a performance in a school gym, an event that epitomized the band’s incongruous position: playing for indifferent high schoolers while being courted by industry giants.
Record Label Turmoil and Creative Divergence
Clive Davis offered a contract, but The Modern Lovers, in a move Brooks now reflects on as “idiotic,” embarked on a quest for the “best” manager and record label, believing themselves to be “hot shit.” This period of industry courtship highlighted the band’s internal dynamics – Harrison and Brooks as the more “business-oriented” members, contrasted with Jonathan Richman’s increasingly uncompromising artistic vision.
In 1972, the band flew to Los Angeles to record demos with John Cale, a producer they admired for his work with the Velvet Underground and The Stooges. These sessions, intended as demos, inadvertently captured the tracks that would constitute The Modern Lovers’ debut album. However, by the time they returned to LA in 1973 to record their “real” album under Warner Bros., Jonathan Richman’s artistic direction was shifting dramatically.
“I Don’t Want to Hurt Anybody”: The Breaking Point
Jonathan Richman’s growing disillusionment with the “rock-‘n’-roll-star-making machinery” and its perceived corruptions, including the environmental impact of large-scale concerts, fueled his desire to move away from conventional rock music. This divergence created irreconcilable differences within the band. Brooks and Robinson favored “tight, poppy rock ‘n’ roll,” while Richman leaned towards quieter, more lyrically focused music.
This artistic clash reached a critical point during recording sessions with John Cale. Cale, frustrated by Richman’s reluctance to embrace the raw energy of their earlier sound, urged him to sound “mean,” even “like you wanna kill somebody” for the song “Someone I Care About.” Richman’s response – “Oh, I don’t want to hurt anybody—I wanna make a nice, happy-sounding record” – epitomized his artistic transformation and the widening gulf between him and the rest of the band.
John Cale’s own personal struggles further complicated the recording process. His frustration with Jonathan Richman’s artistic recalcitrance was palpable. Warner Bros.’ attempts to salvage the project by suggesting managers proved futile. A disastrous gig at the Swing Auditorium, where the band was pelted with objects, and Jonathan Richman’s subsequent decision to stop playing “Roadrunner” because it was “too” popular, underscored his increasingly contrarian stance.
“I Never Said, ‘Fuck You Jonathan!'”: Legacy and Reunion
Jonathan Richman’s rejection of electricity and his insistence on not performing the old songs live led to Warner Bros. dropping The Modern Lovers. This marked the band’s dissolution, stemming from Jonathan Richman’s uncompromising artistic vision, which, while innovative, proved commercially and collaboratively unsustainable.
Despite the tumultuous end, Brooks emphasizes the absence of animosity, “But I never said, ‘Fuck you, Jonathan!’” Decades later, Brooks and Richman reunited to perform “Roadrunner” at a tribute show for a sick Joey Ramone, demonstrating a lasting respect and musical connection. This reunion hinted at the enduring power of their shared musical history and the indelible mark Jonathan Richman left on music, even if mainstream success remained elusive. Jonathan Richman’s legacy endures not through chart-topping hits, but through his profound influence on the landscape of alternative music and his unwavering commitment to his unique artistic vision.
