As he pranced through his set, Richman's poetic sock-hop folk sent the woman over the edge and into complete Richmania. Maybe it's the gentle way "I'm a Little Dinosaur" and "The Lonely Little Thrift Store" move the listener to identify with the travails of humanized animals and objects. Or "Give Paris One More Chance" -- so picturesque it could reform the worst Francophobe. In any case, sometime after "When I Dance" and Richman's accompanying soulful jig, the woman hopped up onstage, expecting him to sweep her off her feet. Instead, the 51-year-old punk vaudevillian cast a worried sidelong glance at the interloper and continued with the show until she headed back into the crowd. Such is Richman's power -- more than that of any conventional singer-songwriter -- to make music organically personal. He may seem like your old friend, but don't get carried away.
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