Those albums - 1973’s Sold American and 1974’s Kinky Friedman - were sardonic, sarcastic put-ons that established Friedman as the outlaw’s outlaw, a Jewish Vaudeville-indebted honky-tonk provocateur who, among his cohort of singers that included Waylon Jennings, Willie Nelson, and Kris Kristofferson, was willing to go the furthest, for better and for worse, to defy, disobey and make an outright mockery of just about every convention and standard of decency in country music.įriedman became most well-known for button-pushing songs like “They Ain’t Makin’ Jews Like Jesus Anymore,” “Get Your Biscuits in the Oven and Your Buns in the Bed,” and “We Reserve the Right to Refuse Service to You,” thorny missives that walked a delicate, constantly blurry line between satire and seriousness, between pointed social commentary masked as reactionary shock antics and reactionary shock antics masked as pointed social commentary. The Kinkster, as he is sometimes called, is signing autographs, taking selfies, rattling off one-liners and flaunting obscure campaign memorabilia before taking the stage for one of the last shows of a grueling monthlong tour - 21 shows in 22 days - that Kinky has booked in support of his new album, Circus of Life.Ĭircus of Life, his first collection of original material in 35 years, represents something of a tectonic shift for Friedman, who, at 74 years old, has turned again to songwriting after a three-decade detour as a novelist, columnist, failed politician, and traveling personal brand ambassador.īut the songs Friedman has resumed writing in the last few years bear little resemblance to the trailblazing, incredibly fringe country records that he became infamous for in the early Seventies. It’s a midsummer evening in rural New Jersey, and Friedman, dressed in his trademark outfit of black leather boots, black jeans, a black jacket, black sunglasses and a black cowboy hat, is doing what Kinky Friedman does best: schmoozing with fans. “Can someone remind me the Irish way of saying ‘l’chaim’?” he shouts to no one in particular. Let’s face it.” Friedman abandons the action figure and zooms over to a nearby table to take a shot of tequila with his fans. If I had gotten a fucking talking-action figure to every single Texan, I would have won the election,” Friedman, who earned an astounding 12 percent of the vote running as an Independent, announces, before admitting, “We probably would have had a scandal-ridden administration. “All of my fucking brains it’s right there…. “That’s some brilliant shit,” Friedman, still grinning, says to the crowd. “I’ve got a head of hair better than Rick Perry’s it’s just not in a place I can show ya.”
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