What You Gonna Do About Richie
“You gotta see ‘em live!”
You’ve probably heard that from a friend trying to sell you on a particular act they’re excited about. And it’s true, some performers bring it in concert in a way they simply cannot capture in the sterile confines of a recording studio. But there is no act, possibly in the entire history of recorded music, to whom this applies more than the immortal Richie Havens.
A little background; a hundred thousand years ago when my lady J—- and I first start dating, we were lazing about one summer Saturday evening with not much to do. She had heard that Richie Havens was performing a free concert at Eden Park, not far from where I was living at the time. Although both of us are old-school metalheads, we both have a strong fondness for late 1960s “classic rock,” and I’ve always considered Havens’ Woodstock performance to be a (if not THE) highlight of that concert. Not expecting much but a pleasant enough “greatest hits” nostalgia show for the aging hippie sect, we moseyed on over to the park to check it out. What was waiting for us there was instead one of the most powerful, aggressive, passionate and flat-out mind-blowing musical experiences of my life up until that point (surpassing — if only slightly– Pantera on the Vulgar tour, rivaling Black Sabbath in Detroit, and surpassed only by Richie himself some years later).
As is common when one hears a really great live act, I ran out and snatched up a few of his CDs, both classic and recent. And I was, to say the least, underwhelmed. Don’t get me wrong: Richie has an wonderful voice under any circumstance, and his astounding, unique guitar playing has had a profound impact on me as a guitarist. But his albums are simply . . .nice. It’s hard to believe that the ferocious holy demon that Havens is on stage is the same guy who has been pumping out pleasing but otherwise milquetoast studio albums for the past forty-plus years. And what’s more, he seems thoroughly oblivious to the contradiction himself. Why no live albums, Richie? WHY?! (there is actually a live album from the mid-70s, but it’s too short and hard to find).
Case in point: Here is the studio version of the 1974 song What about Me?:
Nothing wrong with it, certainly. It’s decent early-seventies singer-songwriter soft rock.
Now, here’s the exact same song live from 1981:
HOLY SHIT!!!!
THIS is the Richie that J—- and I saw on our honeymoon in Seattle in 2004. Between this song and his version of Lives In The Balance, this show changed me to the core emotionally, “spiritually,” even physically (I actually think my heartbeat is different now from how it was before). I still haven’t recovered, and likely never will.
I actually met Richie in the Pike Street Fish Market prior to that amazing Seattle show. He was terrifically warm and cordial, a beautiful guy all around. A year later, when J—- was several months pregnant with our son, we saw Richie play again in Yellow Springs. Richie’s music was playing in the delivery room when W— was born. Then when he was around nine or ten months old we took him to an outdoor festival in Bowling Green where Richie was headlining. We got seats right up front, and right after a particularly raucous number W— shouted out, “H’ZZZZAAAH!” (or something). Richie laughed and waved at him in that awesome way that older people do with babies, then proceeded to rip into the next number, absolutely shredding his guitar, strings snapping left and right, picks literally exploding in his hand (this is not hyperbole. I pride myself on being a pretty aggressive guitar player. But in the 22 years I’ve been playing guitar I’ve had maybe four picks actually break in my hand mid-song. By contrast, two to three picks will literally disintegrate in Richie Havens’ hand every single song. The only other guitar player I’ve seen play anywhere near as hard is Matt Pike from High On Fire, and even he doesn’t come close.) In a lot of ways Richie Havens is W—’s spiritual godfather, and he’s proof to me that there is no reason to become soft or slow down as you get older. But come on, brother, give us a live DVD or something!