AN OBSESSIVE Velvet Underground and Lovin' Spoonful fan from the mid 1960s onwards, Richman started his music career virtually by accident, and it has been that way ever since. A small, tanned, forty something man with a simplistic approach to life and creativity, Jonathan Richman sings and writes songs about Pablo Picasso and Fender Stratocasters, which, depending on one's point of view, is either a healthy or somewhat ill advised thing to do. The fact that he has carved out a minor career for himself for the best part of 25 years is astounding, and is possibly one of the most charming/ridiculous (delete where applicable) facets of popular music culture. Let's put it this way Richman is certainly on the side of rock music's under achievers.

Which is definitely not to say that his nursery rhyme like songs are without substance. When he's on form, Richman is one of the best cult performers around. When he isn't, he comes across as one of those unfortunate idiot savant rock acts that painfully endear themselves to an audience by virtue of their novelty value.

Unfortunately, he was more the latter than the former on the first of his two Galway gigs.