Over the past few years, Richard Marsella has touched the lives of many concertgoers — often it’s quite enjoyable, but sometimes it’s downright uncomfortable. While Friendly Rich, Marsella’s professional moniker (as leader of Friendly Rich and the Lollipop People), evokes a musical innocence from somewhere over the rainbow, his band’s surreal symphonies and perverse cabaret performances channel the wrong side of the looking glass. Unlikely songs of tragic Canadian celebrities (“The Ballad of Ken Carter”), dictatorial longing (“Ayutollah”) and Oedipal affairs (“Me N’ Mom”) both delight and disturb when treated to Marsella’s personality-disordered vocals and his idiosyncratic sense of orchestration. I chatted with Brampton’s Hardest Working Man in Show Business about his latest record, Dinosaur Power, and the many other stews he’s brewing.  

Have you been busy preparing for the record release show?
Yeah, as well as I can. I’m also in the studio doing a new recording. It’s an arrangement I did of Pictures at an Exhibition by [Russian composer Modest] Mussorgsky. So it’s a little bit of a detour. It’s with The Lollipop People and Trevor Dunn, the bass player from Mr. Bungle. I rearranged it for the modern world. So it’s pretty wacky. It’s been one of the heavier things I’ve done.

Have you played that in concert?
Yeah. I did it twice live. I don’t know if you caught it.

I saw one of the Tranzac shows, maybe last summer.
Where a guy lit his dick on fire? Was that the one?

Yeah.
So it’s that, but beefed up. But without the guy lighting his dick on fire. If only we could make that work on CD, you know, I would. Technology is just not with me yet. It’s almost there but .... The discomfort would be so much more interesting, if I could make that work.

How has the Friendly Rich persona evolved since you started doing this?
Oh man. I’m just me. I’m creepier than ever and fucking uncertain as ever. And I’m not too shy to ask the wrong question of people. It just seems to somehow work. I just should have started this thing as Richard Marsella, then it would have been a lot easier to grow old. But now I’m stuck with this Friendly Rich name and it’s kind of awkward. It’s all inspired by the Friendly Giant, who was a good man.

With a good theme song. Speaking of theme songs, what was the idea behind doing the Littlest Hobo theme?
I’ve been wanting to do that forever, so I did it. No, really I love that song —?it’s one of the greatest folk tunes ever written. It kind of makes me feel warm inside. And I bought the rights to record it for, like, $58 from CTV. Yeah, it’s incredible. Even with Aznavour [“La Boheme”] it was, like, $81. I think I want to do the Rolling Stones’ “Satisfaction” next and pay homage to the Residents or something. I didn’t know you could record other people’s music for so cheap.

You have a 10-piece ensemble and an elaborate stage show. How difficult is it to keep it rolling and keep it together?
It’s fairly difficult. But it’s a good challenge. I’m well-supported and they’re all clearly in it for more than the pittance that I pay them for each show. I’m trying to be a little strategic in the way I approach things; like, I played like hell last year, but this year my goal is to be successful and just try to break even. I’m doing all right because I’ve been playing some pretty well-paying festivals. And then I took a smaller version with me to Germany at the end of February, which was a real blast.

What was the Germans’ reaction?
I think one of the band members said, “Wow, the crickets in Germany sound so much more interesting.” They kind of got it as best as they could. But I think the atmosphere there is a lot different — weirdo art has a way better chance of surviving out there. It’s no mistake that we went out there. I’ve been sending my shit to hundreds of labels in North America and just constantly getting rejected. And the first label, Hazelwood, that I sent it to in Germany jumped all over it. All the promoters there are on drugs and, as freakish as they get, they still take care of the artists. I can kind of see why a lot of those old jazz musicians went out there to die.