Music Arcades: Jonathan Richman: I Must be King

Oh, that's pretty. Little patterns and coincidences please me, and sometimes something unexpected emerges the layout of album covers on the monthly pages. As in November 2009 when the twin visages of Vintage Violence and Self Portrait were staring out at us like a ghoulish identity parade. This is more subtle (and if you're reading this after January 2011, you'll need to go here to see it), but I really like the way the covers of yesterday's Carmelite Vespers and last week's Retrospective contain the same rich hues of red, white and blue.

Now, Jonathan Richman. I saw him play for the third or fourth time (I'm not sure if one of them really counts, as the traffic through Fulham was so bad we only saw the last three songs) at last autumn. I didn't realise then that it would turn out to be my last ever visit to The Luminaire — London's best gig venue, and a sad loss — but, as I left, I thought that might well be my last Jonathan Richman show. That night, something about his wide-eyed, open-hearted persona had just tipped over into the territory where it was a persona, a habit. So, by definition, it didn't actually feel so open-hearted any more.

But when it does… This was my first CD of Jonathan Richman's, and I don't think I'd ever heard the first song. That Summer Feeling, before. I certainly hadn't listened properly before. When I did, I became a committed fan before he even got to the final verse. Lord knows how much time and effort goes into making a song feel so simple, direct and unaffected, so that everything else just falls away and you feel, This is the truth.

I was 35 then, wishing I'd heard that song when I was half that age. But everyone wishes that, whatever age they are.