Radio Repertoire

One of the kinder, gentler gigs in the county features piano player Loren Richards early every Sunday evening at Port Royal in Channel Islands Harbor.

Richards is a man with a vast repertoire of songs that not only predate MTV but also television itself. These are songs that his patrons originally heard on the radio--back when radio was good.

The bar inside the Port Royal restaurant serves as the concert hall and has the venue’s only live entertainment all week. It’s a wood-paneled room with three chandeliers, a bunch of tables and--this time of year--Christmas lights everywhere. The walls are covered with beer bottles and paintings of ships. And Sundays, the place is usually packed with aging music fans who know all the words to all the songs.

While this is Richards’ gig, he’s not facing the music alone. His sidekick is one Paula Jones--not the Paula Jones, but a Paula Jones. This Jones can sing soft and sweet when necessary or with hurricane intensity that could almost cause wine glasses to sprout legs and head for safer terrain. “I’ve always had a big blower and I just learned how to focus,” she said. “I’ve had a lot of voice training and I’ve done stage singing and classical singing. I really enjoy good singing. That’s why I have a problem with a lot of the popular music today--it’s more image than talent.”

It may be ‘30s style or ‘40s style, but in any case, it’s music with style. And much affection. At this gig, everyone is “dear heart” or on a first-name basis. When Richards asks for a request, he asks by name.

“It’s sort of a music therapy group--with alcohol,” Jones said. “This gig has grown from a little group of people into just a large group of friends. They’re such adorable people. . . . I’ve known Loren for way over 10 years and I think he’s just a great person, a great talent and a great entertainer. We only do songs from the ‘30s and ‘40s and some ‘20s--we don’t do any rock ‘n’ roll.”

The gift-wrapped bottle of Geritol on Richards’ piano sets the tone for the festivities. The geezer jokes fly, and there are definitely no mosh pits, no mean bouncers and no jerks. It’s just good, clean fun, according to the singer.

“We don’t take anything too seriously--that’s why we have all the jokes about Geritol and Depends,” Jones said. “We just want people to sing along and have fun. It’s just music therapy, plus this is a safe gig. Women can come and feel safe.” Here’s the scenario: People start showing up around show time at 5 and Richards begins with a few old favorites and, these days, lots of Christmas songs. He takes and asks for requests. Then Jones does a few tunes, and from time to time, audience members come up and sing a song. All along, the audience sings or sways to the oldies.

“Usually a number of singers show up, as this is a total audience-participation thing,” Jones said. “But it’s not karaoke. I think all people have the right to make noise, but Loren and I are the only professionals. . . . It’s pretty much a place to sing, so long as the singers don’t take themselves too seriously and think this is the next step to stardom. . . . These people that come all love music and I think they know every song ever written between 1900 and 1950.”

Both pro players have vast experience. Richards, who lives in Agoura, has local ties that go way back--not as far back as his repertoire, but far enough. Currently, the Port Royal affair is Richards’ only gig.

“I’ve been playing since 1944--started playing when I was 3,” he said. “I started doing a piano bar thing at the Colonial House in Oxnard for many years, then at McCarthy’s in Camarillo. I know about 3,000 songs, and I like what you would call ‘good music.’ I’ve been blessed to make a living at playing music, but these days, I’m looking to get out of the music business and enter the ugly business world. The music business is too undependable.”

Jones met Richards about a dozen years ago at McCarthy’s in Camarillo, and she has been singing with him more or less ever since. The Ventura resident, whose current plans include giving voice lessons to aspiring singers, has also been a music therapist.

“As a music therapist, I ended up in the geriatric ward working with a lot of patients with degenerative diseases such as Alzheimer’s,” she said. “Some of these people don’t know who they’re married to, who their kids are . . . but they can sing all the words to ‘Moon River.’ It’s amazing. And it was always a song they learned when they were young, not one learned later in life. Putting music into their bodies isn’t going to reverse their illnesses, but it does give them the satisfaction that they can do something right.”

At Port Royal, the “good music” ends at 8 p.m.--time for everyone to get home for “The X-Files,” even though “Murder, She Wrote” or “The Golden Girls” are probably more the TV shows of choice for this crowd. “We tried doing this for four hours before,” said Richards, “but everyone was pooped after just three hours, so three it is. This is one of the few places where people of that age can go to be a part of the music rather than be assaulted by it.”

DETAILS

Loren Richards with Paula Jones at Port Royal, 3900 Bluefin Circle, Oxnard, 5 p.m. Sunday; free; 382-7678.

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Morrissey, the former frontman for the Smiths, is coming to the Ventura Theatre on Saturday night. Although the show is sold out, don’t expect too many cops--this isn’t Social Distortion or Suicidal Tendencies. Morrissey’s legion of fans know what to expect--a juxtaposition of shyness, exhibitionism and witty lyrics on well-crafted pop songs by an artist who rarely tours.

From a 1988 band bio: “The Smiths were almost like a painting. Every month you’d add a bit here and a little bit there . . . but it wasn’t complete and it was whipped away.”

And from 1994: “I am not vaguely interested in the idea of being a pop star or wearing leather trousers and telling everyone that I am the most wonderful person on Earth. I’d like to think that in some way, I’m helping to move pop music away from these notions.”

And from 1997: “Morrissey has no interest in world politics and prefers the company of animals to humans. His ambition is to play Freemantle in Western Australia; otherwise he has no interest whatever in modern life. He lives in Spain.”

DETAILS

Morrissey at the Ventura Theatre, 26 Chestnut St., 8 p.m. Saturday; sold out; 653-0721.

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Back in 1968, things were going on way too long--the war in Vietnam, acid trips, songs on the radio. And few tunes were longer than “In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida” by Iron Butterfly, which took up a whole album side and ran for more than 17 minutes. Now, 31 years later, Iron Butterfly flies again and will play Sunday at Mojo’s in Oak View. Also playing at the high noon gig will be Studebaker, purveyors of blues and classic rock.

Iron Butterfly was an L.A. band that hit it big in 1967 with its first album, “Heavy.” And heavy it was--heavy enough to be gold. The next album, the one named after the hit song, was even bigger, huge even. “In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida,” the album, stayed on the charts for an amazing 174 weeks, with 76 weeks in the Top 10. Since it outsold (more than 8 million copies) the industry standard of gold, the band had the first-ever platinum album. The next--and probably the band’s best--album, “Ball,” also went gold.

Now fast forward 30 years to the present. All the gigs with bands like Led Zeppelin, Yes, Creedence Clearwater Revival and the Byrds at venues like the Forum and Madison Square Garden are just memories, and it’s time for Mojo’s in Oak View. Guess which song Iron Butterfly will probably save for last?

The gig is Santa’s Helpers Second Annual Toy Drive, sponsored by Los Borachos Motorcycle Club and Mojo’s. Tickets are $10 with an unwrapped toy or five bucks more without one. Sign-in for motorcyclists begins at 9 a.m. at the Keynote Lounge in East Ventura. Or it’s cool just to show up at Mojo’s to see the bands.

DETAILS

Iron Butterfly and Studebaker at Mojo’s, 101 W. Short St., Oak View, noon Sunday; $10 (with a toy) or $15 (toyless); 649-9931.

Bill Locey can be reached by e-mail at blocey@pacbell.net

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