Modern Lovers in Bermuda

Two years after they disbanded, fifty years ago, the eponymous Modern Lovers album was released. By then Jonathan Richman had formed another band named Jonathan Richman and the Modern Lovers which released an album simultaneously, but don’t be confused. The original or real Modern Lovers album is regarded as a classic of its era.

As Steven Knopper reported in the Boston Globe, May 22, 2026, “The ideal road trip playlist should be packed with fast-but-not-too-fast songs, sound familiar enough for everybody in the car to head-bang like Garth and Wayne in ‘Wayne’s World,’ and include obscure gems to prompt discovery and conversation. It should start with a string of energetic anthems, cool down with more laid-back classics, then burst into an explosive finale.

“And, especially in Massachusetts, it should open with ‘Roadrunner,’ by Natick-born group the Modern Lovers. The song appeared on the band’s self-titled debut LP, which celebrates its 50th anniversary later this summer.

“It’s a really great driving song, and even people who don’t live here understand that,’ said Joyce Linehan, a former Boston chief of policy and veteran arts promoter who in 2013 attempted to make ‘Roadrunner’ the Commonwealth’s official rock song. The bill, initially proposed by Representative Marty Walsh, future mayor of Boston, died in committee after two other reps pushed for Aerosmith’s ‘Dream On’ instead.”

Mark Shannahan of the Globe wrote on July 17, 2026 that” Most people, if they know the Modern Lovers at all, know the band’s eponymous first album, released in 1976. Today, it’s rightly regarded as a proto-punk masterpiece — Rolling Stone ranks ‘The Modern Lovers’ among the 500 greatest albums ever — but it was familiar to very few at the time. I don’t recall my brothers playing it around the house. (The Sex Pistols were at least aware of the album’s first song, ‘Roadrunner,’ because there’s a ragged recording of the band trying to play it soon after the LP’s release.)

The Modern Lovers formed in 1970 and reached its peak with Jonathan Richman, guitar and vocals, Ernie Brooks, bass, Jerry Harrison, keyboards, and Dave Robinson, drums. Their Boston area gigs attracted a fan base and interest from producers and A&R men. Warner Brothers was involved but backed out when they failed to deliver a debut album.

There were disputes about the direction of the band and Richman wanted to start over with a more low key, softer sound. The band broke up and the eponymous, iconic album, “The Modern Lovers” was released two years later.

For its time the band was one of the best and is on the short list of greatest Boston bands. That it foundered on the brink of success is entirely because of the contrarian whims of Richman, an eccentric genius and man child.

He was born in 1951 and grew up in Natick, Mass. a suburb of Boston. In the early 1970s he performed solo at the weekly Sunday Concerts on Cambridge Common. It was a program sponsored by Bob Gordon’s non profit, Polyarts. Occasionally bands that performed at the Boston Tea Party performed there. That included the Allman Brothers then touring with their debut album. After an initial gig Don Law booked them a short time later. Rather than hoof it back to Georgia they bunked in Cambridge.

When Jonathan performed it was a bit of comic relief. Generally allotted just one song he belted out the ironic “I’m Straight.” He was the anti-hippie as he told the audience in a rap-song manner that he didn’t drink or do drugs. His hair was trimmed short but he affected a rock stance with splayed legs and asserted attack on a Stratocaster guitar.

The Velvet Underground had a Boston following through a number of gigs at the Tea Party. Jonathan idolized Lou Reed and after high school followed the band to New York crashing on their manager’s couch. Attempts to launch a music career failed and he returned to Boston.

With John Felice he formed the Modern Lovers. When Felice departed Richman recruited Robinson, one of the great rock drummers of his generation, as well as Harrison and Brooks, both of whom, at that time, were Harvard students.

There are interesting comparisons of the Lovers and Velvets. Jonathan adapted Lou’s recited and sung style of story telling. The sound and approach are similar but the content of lyrics could not be more different. A street-wise New Yorker, Lou’s lyrics are about a dark world of hard drugs and drag queens. There was the radical chic and zeitgeist of being in Warhol’s orbit.

The plaintive songs of Richman are about insecurity, rejection and child-like innocence. The artful vulnerability of his persona was a magnet for anyone who has been bullied and rejected. Those plaintive anthems “Pablo Picasso” “She Cracked” and “Hospital” resonated with the rock world and were covered by the Sex Pistols and David Bowie among others.

A Cambridge neighbor, Arthur Gallagher, asked me to recommend a band. We lived in a hippie enclave Fallon Place. His family owned the Inverurie Hotel in Bermuda and he wanted to book a rock band for Spring Break. We attended a gig and he booked them.

As part of the deal I got to stay with Arthur and his mother. After dinner we headed to the hotel to help set up.

That first night there was a small turnout. The Chamber of Commerce had daily events for the students and we hoped to get some exposure through them. But they were committed to The Bermuda Strollers. We heard their big song “Wings of a Dove” just about every day.

Jonathan had a daily routine of jogging to stay fit.

The teens who attended the first night returned with their friends. That audience built steadily and the Lovers responded accordingly. Richman has always been local as evidenced by the landmarks in the anthem “Roadrunner.” He drew the audience in by rapping about being in Bermuda.

He later wrote a song “Down in Bermuda” (available on You Tube).

Jonathan, Jonathan
– I wanna know something
– Well have you ever been to Bermuda?
Yeah my band once played down there
– What did you like about Bermuda?
There was something in the air
That kept soothing me and calming me down
Making me feel better all around
It’s quiet that far out at sea
Down in Bermuda

His appeal is that of the loner, outsider and underdog. That is well expressed by “Nobody ever called Pablo Picasso an asshole.” That last word had a special twang delivered in his Natick accent.

It’s a great line and compelling metaphor but he may not have been aware that indeed, Picasso was called an asshole, by his mistress Francoise Gilot and ghostwriter Arianna Huffington.

Every set ended with a kick ass version of “Roadrunner.” Robinson really drove that home with flourishes from Harrison and Jonathan’s licks.

There have been reports that there was dissent in Bermuda. I didn’t see any but Jonathan has reported that he heard a different kind of music and wanted to take the band in a different direction.

I say down in Bermuda
Oh it changed me all around
It turned me upside down
In Bermuda
Ding Ding
Bum di dee Bum di dee Bum Bum Bum
Well down in Bermuda
I saw how stiff I was
And I changed it just because
In Bermuda

After that gig in Bermuda the band was really tight. Each night you could sense the growing adhesion.

Back in Cambridge, right after their return, I booked them a gig at Sandy’s in Beverly. They blew the roof off.

Not long after they departed to LA for recording sessions that ultimately surfaced as their posthumous album.

Typically contrarian Jonathan no longer wanted to pursue the Velvet inspired style. He refused to perform “Roadrunner.” That was it. Harrison joined Talking Heads. After a brief interval with a reformed Lovers Robinson left to form Cars with Ric Ocasek and Ben Orr. Jonathan had been demanding that Robinson perform ever softer.

Around that time Lou Reed, post Velvets, was in town. There was an afternoon press conference during which Lou polished off a bottle of Courvoisier brandy. I asked his opinion of Jonathan Richman and the Modern Lovers. Lou scoffed at such a ridiculous question.

Soon after I encountered Jonathan at Cardell’s, the cafeteria of the stars, in Harvard Square. I told him what Lou said.

“He really said that” Jonathan responded in stunned and hurt disbelief;

Arguably, it was a turning point as Jonathan became ever more eccentric and inventive. With Lou in hindsight he was searching for his own signature including children’s songs as well as country and western.

He evolved from rock returning to solo and acoustic. During one absurd encounter I caught him performing unaccompanied in the niche of Harvard Coop. The percussion consisted of hand clapping. He wasn’t getting much attention and it is likely that nobody knew who he was. That was the last time I saw him.