Mariachi El Bronx Played Asbury Lanes, 3/23/14 (PHOTOS)

Sunday Services

...Jonathan Richman left the stage at The Brighton just after 9:30. I guess I was still riding a bit of a high from that show. It was Sunday night. The DVR had plenty of time to record enough of The Walking Dead that I was sure I could make it through the show and the Talking Dead after-show without having to watch any Hyundai commercials. But, as I sat stopped at the light on the corner of Brighton and Ocean Ave., I found myself signaling for a right turn and heading towards Asbury.

All of the parking spots right outside Asbury Lanes were taken as were the no-fee spots along the side street. As I'd expected, the venue was packed. There were lots of familiar faces in attendance. The members of The Battery Electric / Hot Blood were there, still on cloud nine after what sounds like it was a fantastically successful tour to / from SXSW. Our own Scotch LaRock was holding things down, and his regular text dispatches gave me the confidence to be sure I hadn't yet missed anything.

Mariachi El Bronx took the stage a little after 10 pm. Each member of the band was dressed traditionally, and I noticed that the violinist for the night was former River City Extension fiddler Rebecca Schlappich, a substitute who -- apparently -- learned all of the band's songs and the accordion over the course of a few days.

Mariachi El Bronx are the alter ego of LA hardcore punk band The Bronx. The band employ traditional instruments including guitarrón and a full horn section. They are no novelty act. They take their approach to the style very seriously, and they put on an excellent show.

Lead singer Matt Caughthran repeatedly praised New Jersey and Asbury Lanes, mentioning that touring can sap one's energy, "But I woke up this morning, and I saw the ocean!" The set reflected the fact that the band were energized by the audience and the surroundings, and Asbury Lanes exploded into a giant party -- dancing, singing, beers hoisted overhead.

Over the course of the one and a half hour set, Mariachi El Bronx drew from both of their releases under the name. Sung in English, the subject matter of the songs isn't dissimilar to what you'd find in hardcore punk. Song titles like "Cell Mates," "Slave Labor," "Revolution Girls," and "Holy" give a pretty good idea of the areas covered by the band's catalog.

After spending an hour or so with Jonathan Richman in Long Branch, the experience of seeing Mariachi El Bronx in Asbury just seemed like a natural progression for the evening. The sense of community that I felt at The Brigthon carried right over into the more raucous atmosphere at Asbury Lanes. My senses had been tuned by Mr. Richman to better receive and participate in all of the happy vibes that Mariachi El Bronx were sending over the crowd, and it was wonderful.

I drove home smiling all the way; and, even today, as we shiver and await winter's last gasp, I still can't help feeling like spring is already here.

Jonathan Richman Played The Brighton Bar, 3/23/14

"These Bodies Came to Cavort"

"I am so happy right now!"

That was the young man behind me at The Brighton Bar last night a few songs into the rapturous set by Jonathan Richman. I guess the performance had its intended effect. Richman is an optimist whose songs celebrate every aspect of being human; and the small, packed house shook with laughter, handclapping, and dancing for the duration of Richman's just over one-hour set.

As we walked through the front door at about 7:30, something was strange. The televisions behind the bar were dark and there was no music pumping through the sound system. I discussed with a few people how odd it felt to be in The Brighton Bar while it was so quiet. Richman has rules, they said. As we talked a little more, it did start to dawn on me that we were speaking with each other in normal voices, without taking sidelong looks to check out what was happening in the world of NCAA basketball.

At around 8:20, Richman and drummer Tommy Larkins made their way through the crowd to the stage. After a few quiet strums on his guitar, Richman asked that the ceiling fan near the stage be turned down to reduce the noise, "I'm fussy when it comes to sound."

He then played a bit of "That Summer Feeling" before suggesting to someone down front that they not watch the show through the little screen on their mobile phone.

"If you're gonna be here, be here. If you're gonna be home, be home."

The ceiling fan quieted, the mobile phone distractions at least reduced somewhat, Richman and Larkins played through a set that included at least parts several Richman classics. As usual, many of the versions would end up being unique to this particular performance with lyrics made up and re-worked on the spot.

"No One Was Like Vermeer" came with the interesting factoid that some scholars now believe that Vermeer's daughter may have produced up to one-sixth of the paintings attributed to her father. No one was like Vermeer, except, maybe, his daughter.

During "Keith Richards," Richman confessed to not being in love with the rhyme comparing Keith's playing to the sound made by a cat having its tail twisted ("No one plays guitar like that / He makes the guitar whine / like twisting the tail on a cat" or something similar). He began searching for more satisfying lyrics onstage, but ultimately left that part for another day.

Several times he put the guitar aside and danced, shaking maracas or bells, while Larkins played drums. The crowd sang and danced along with him on songs like "I Was Dancing at the Lesbian Bar," "My Baby Love Love Loves Me," "Springtime in New York," and "These Bodies Came to Cavort." Richman also threw in some covers, including a version of Van Morrison's "Crazy Love" that he made his own with just about the entire audience singing along to the chorus.

Another of Richman's rules, apparently, is "no air conditioning;" and, despite the falling temperatures outside, The Brighton got quite steamy. All those cavorting bodies lent a distinctly... ...human... scent to the proceedings.

He didn't play it last night; but Richman's philosophy can be summed up in his song "When We Refuse to Suffer" (When we refuse to suffer / We refuse to feel). We all "suffered" through having to have actual conversations. Some of us unplugged from the Internet for an hour. We had to deal with a sweaty, communal sing- and dance-along. Whether we were shouting along in Spanish to "La Fiesta Es Para Todos!" or contemplating how everyone -- even "our friend Jonathan" -- goes "into the darkness" once in a while, we were all present with one another.

I've never had much patience for the the idea that technology is destroying our humanity -- "I don't watch TV." "I don't read ebooks. I like the feel and the smell of real books." "No cell phones, please." But, last night, I followed the rules -- pretty much -- and I'll admit that I felt more alive than I have at any show in a while.

And, yes, I was happy.

P.S., Richman's early set left me plenty of time to make it to Asbury Lanes for Mariachi El Bronx...