Just as quickly as he was embraced, he was forgotten.
Virginia singer-rapper Tommy Richman, who mere months ago had the musical world in a headlock with his unique brand of high-pitched R&B, is making sure people never forget again.
“We put this album out three months ago,” Richman told a ravenous audience at Boston’s Paradise Rock Club on March 21. “They said the album was flopping.”
The album in question is “Coyote,” Richman’s 2024 debut. Following the overwhelming success of his neo-funk breakout smash “Million Dollar Baby,” the artist went from obscurity to superstardom. However, because he finished recording “Coyote” before his singles “Million Dollar Baby” and “Devil Is a Lie” found virality on TikTok, he made the controversial decision to forego including the songs on the album. The result, as Richman foreshadowed, proved consequential.
The album didn’t crack the Billboard Top 200, and only sold 4,300 copies in its first week. Just as quickly as he became a star, Tommy Richman was being labeled a one-hit blunder.
Yet the Boston stop of Richman’s “Coyote” tour was no pity party, it was a victory. “They said we not selling tickets—we sold out this whole tour!” shouted Richman as the crowd went wild.
The concert’s electrifying results were written from the start with a slick opening set from Virginia rapper mynameisntjmack. Working a crowd of beanies, oversized hoodies, and baggy jeans, jmack, who frequently collaborates with Richman, bopped over beats like an eccentric buoy, peppering heartbroken ballads with colorful ad libs.
“Tommy’s my best friend,” jmack said in an interview with The Beacon. “I love him to death. We’re both from Virginia, so we’re genuinely friends.”
jmack’s casual, often humorous coolness—he paused the show to ask where he could find a good lobster roll—established the show as more of an intimate basement show than a big hip-hop blowout. When Richman finally emerged from the darkness in a black leather jacket and Bono-like shades, he snatched this intimacy with an effortless swagger and never let up. Early highlights of the night included “Temptations,” which saw Richman croon over a beat that sounded like a leftover from the “Thriller” sessions, and carbonated delight “Selfish,” which made wonderful use of his trademark falsetto.
A few songs later, Richman formed a mosh pit and ripped into “Fever,” straddling the lip of the stage like a phantom horse. As jmack reemerged to duet on “BUNKER/PREROLL,” Richman stopped the track suddenly and “ran it back” once more.
The choppiness of the setlist only aided the concert’s success. Even when Richman’s music lulled into sameness (most of his lesser-known “Coyote” tracks were solid, if indistinguishable from each other), he was quick to buck the trend, breaking out two lesser-known punk-slanted tracks from his 2023 EP “Alligator.” Teasing deep-fried, MGMT-esque “Run,” Richman called back to his pre-fame days, singling out a particular fan in the crowd who appeared at one of his earliest shows.
“There’s two people out there!” he said. “And that’s him right there! He was at that show with two people!”
Richman’s stage presence was akin to a child being handed a diamond-encrusted lollipop. It only helped that it was his 25th birthday, and in the spirit of gifts that keep on giving, he burst through “Million Dollar Baby” like a tornado of southern hip-hop stank. It was the inevitable high point of the night, but the sheer energy coursing through the track was enough to power a small village. And it did. Jackets came off, drinks were thrown, and fans came together like magnets to turn the place into a bouncy castle.
Suddenly, Richman kicked over a giant prop cactus and dove onto security guards’ shoulders. The lights were peppermints, and everybody from jmack to jmack’s guitarist lept on stage in a sweaty huddle.
And then, like the best of concerts, the night was over in a blinding flash. Some bewildered fans chanted Richman’s name, hoping for an encore, but he didn’t return. He never needed to. The house lights came on, staff members with brooms began spilling out onto the liquor-slick floor, and exit doors opened to a bitterly windy scene on Commonwealth Avenue.
“He was a great performer,” one concertgoer told The Beacon in a post-show interview. “I may not have known all the songs, but everybody was vibing.”
“Tommy Richman did the thing,” said another concertgoer. “He said all, he did all.”
