(November 5, 2015; OFF BROADWAY, Saint Louis MO)
And, now… for something completely different. No, seriously! And, I will explain that first sentence during the course of this review. First of all, I have met or interviewed a few legends in my twenty-plus years of doing this stuff: Dave Davies of the Kinks, Bill Wyman of the Rolling Stones, Paul Cook of the Sex Pistols, Gregg Allman, Mick Jones of the Clash (not Foreigner) and several Ramones among them. I have never really found myself tongue-tied except when I ran into Joey Ramone backstage at a big radio show (probably PointFest, but I can’t remember for sure) in the late ’90s; now, I can add the “Last of the Texas Jewboys,” Kinky Friedman, to that stratified air with Joey. There wasn’t a lot happening at Off Broadway around six o’clock, so I was just hanging out in my car, catching up on some reading, when I saw that cowboy hat and that cigar and… I knew that I had to go over and say something to one of the last truly legendary characters around, which is pretty much what I said to him. Kinky shook my hand and asked my name, an act that will take on a special meaning a little later in the evening. Anyway, Kinky had just awoken from a nap and was in search of a cup of coffee, so I told him that I was looking forward to the show and headed back to my car and my book. A short time later, a few more people started to wander up to the venue, a sign that it was time for me to disembark once more and join the line; by the time I had crossed Lemp Avenue, Kinky was back outside, shaking hands and taking names. Once the doors were opened, he was standing just inside the entrance, greeting everyone by their name or, if he hadn’t met them outside, asking their name… that, boys and girls, is something that you don’t see every day (as a matter of fact, in my entire concert-going career, it has only happened this one time).
This was, as it turned out, not the final oddity of the evening. There have been fairly few instances – especially in a club setting – where I have utilized a chair; tonight, standing wasn’t really an option, as the first row of seats were just far enough from the stage to keep knees from banging into the front. It was a strange feeling, but one I had embraced by the time the duo of Brian Molnar and Joe Cirotti took the stage. Molnar and Cirotti could probably best be described as Kinky’s “handlers,” acting as road managers, selling merch, backing the man on a few songs on stage; both also appeared on Kinky’s latest album, THE LONELIEST MAN I EVER MET, which was produced by Brian. The guys offered a solid set of songs from Molnar’s solo career and from his band, the Naked Hearts, as well as a few well-chosen classic Country and Folk tunes. Brian has a pleasant, if interesting voice, somewhere between Bob Dylan and Arlo Guthrie, and Joe is a passionate, soulful guitar player (despite his world-weary countenance); conversely, Molnar is a fine guitarist in his own right, while Cirotti’s voice is the perfect counterweight to Molnar’s leads.
Brian kicked things off solo, with the Stanley Brothers’ “Stone Walls and Steel Bars,” a great old tune that set the tone for the entire evening. After the original song, “I Knew I’d See You Again” and another cover (Rosalie Sorrels’ “Rocksalt and Nails”), Joe joined Brian onstage before “Freight Train” and, the difference was immediately felt, with the duo’s vocals blending in near-perfect harmony and Cirotti offering up amazing lead work and solos… had he been playing an electric, in a rock band, it could be said that Joe shredded. A few songs later, Cirotti took a lead vocal on “Fine For Now,” a track from the new LITTLE FISH release from his band, Only Living Boy; where the band’s version raged, here, it bristled with a restrained energy in this sparse arrangement. The pair ended their ten-song set with “Wait For the Light To Shine,” a haunting Fred Rose hymn first recorded by Roy Acuff and His Smoky Mountain Boys in 1947 and, later, by Hank Williams (released posthumously in 1960). Cirotti and Morlan could very easily hold their own in a headlining capacity; as table-setters for the legendary Kinky Friedman, they were exceptional.
Irreverent and unrepentantly un-PC, Friedman‘s hour-long set (give or take) was filled with classic Kinky stories and statements, a verbal exchange with an offended patron of German descent and those story-songs that is his stock-in-trade. Brian was onstage to introduce the man of the evening as “A man who’ll sign anything except bad legislation.” Opening with “The Loneliest Man I Ever Met,” Kinky moved seamlessly from story to song; his introduction to the song gave the audience a small glimpse into the life of the title character, the nearly forgotten Country singer/songwriter Tompall Glaser. Moving forward, he talked of enraging the bra-burning set with “Get Your Biscuits In the Oven and Your Buns In Bed” when it reared its “barefoot and pregnant” head on his 1973 debut, SOLD AMERICAN, and how the song continues to infuriate Feminists more than forty years later; of course, the politically correct thing to do would have been to say that he’d grown as a human being and apologize for any hurt feelings and, of course, that didn’t happen… he played the song with the zeal of a school boy. In giving a brief dissertation regarding his new album, which opens with Willie Nelson’s “Bloody Mary Morning,” Kinky disclosed that he doesn’t smoke dope… except when he’s with Willie because that’s just “Texas etiquette.” He introduced “Waitret, Please, Waitret” as Bill Clinton’s favorite Kinky Friedman song, with its refrain of “Waitret, please, waitret/Come set on my face.” After the last couple of songs, it was obvious that the entendres – occasionally doubled and possibly tripled – would be flying fast and furious for the rest of the show. But, as with the mini-biography of Tompall Glaser, Friedman again showed his softer side with his heartfelt and patriotic introduction about the drunken Indian who had been one of the Marines to raise the flag at Iwo Jima before a poignant “The Ballad of Ira Hayes” brought tears to more than a few eyes.
Never shy, Kinky then took on another legend, Merle Haggard, with a touching rendition of “Hungry Eyes.” Not one to let sentiment get in the way of a great story (or a good song), he then went all the way back to 1974 for the higher education of “Homo Erectus,” a tale of… uh… let’s call it “self-discovery.” As he always does, Kinky did find the time to highlight a song or two about his religion, with “Ride ’em Jewboy” and “They Ain’t Makin’ Jews Like Jesus Anymore.” While introducing the former, he mentioned that he was considered the new David Hasselhoff by Germany’s younger generation; while making a point about how most Germans have come to terms with their past (he had commented earlier how Germany was his second least favorite country), he mentioned that there was the distinct possibility that if a German citizen were to delve into his ancestry, he may be faced with the fact that his grandfather or great grandfather may have murdered 250 people in a ditch, which prompted a negative response from someone in the back of the room. Deftly and hilariously, Kinky managed to cut the guy off at the knees with a couple of well-placed barbs as he told the gentleman that if he would shut up, he was trying to give Germans a compliment. This exchange somehow turned into a story about Nelson Mandela and his favorite Kinky Friedman song… “Ride ’em Jewboy.” At some point, either before or after “They Ain’t Makin’ Jews Like Jesus Anymore,” he spoke a bit about things political; someone asked who he was voting for in 2016. There was a smattering of applause when he said “Bernie Sanders.” The applause ended with his next line: “I just want to see a Jew in the White House. If he wins, it’ll be the first time a Jew family moved into a place after a Black family moved out.” Take a hint, folks… if you are easily offended, maybe you should be somewhere else, because Kinky Friedman is an equal-opportunity offender and no one is safe from his verbal jabs.
The final portion of the show featured the return to the stage of Joe Cirotti, who joined Kinky on the Tom Waits Christmas classic, “Christmas Card From a Hooker In Minneapolis.” As he introduced the number, Friedman reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a folded and crumpled Christmas card, which he started to read from, as Cirotti accompanied him with a nice Country Jazz vamp. One of three originals from THE LONELIEST MAN I EVER MET followed, the sentimentally beautiful “Lady Yesterday.” After a short intro, relating his experiences with Warren Zevon, Kinky delivered a devilishly understated “My Shit’s Fucked Up,” featuring a brilliant, bluesy break from Joe; Warren woulda definitely been proud. As Brian Molnar joined Kinky and Joe, Friedman introduced “Pickin’ Time” as his father’s favorite Johnny Cash song. The simple melody and pure Americana lyrics continue to strike a chord, particularly in the Midwest. After a short break, Kinky was back by the merch table, shaking hands (and remembering everybody’s name) and signing everything put in front of him. This was the kind of show that all music lovers dream of and one that I won’t soon forget.