Kinky Friedman — “Poet of Motel 6” — Hardcharger Records
Richard Samet “Kinky” Friedman was one interesting character. (The “Kinky” part was a nickname from his youthful curly hair.)
He wasn’t a bluesman, but he was definitely a practitioner of Americana music — although his music was sometimes described as alt-country. No matter what it was called, Friedman’s music pushed the boundaries of good taste and satire, making a name for himself with his band, Kinky Friedman and The Texas Jewboys, formed in 1973. It was thought to be a play on the name of the legendary Bob Wills and His Texas Playboys. But with Friedman, you could never be sure what he really meant.
They recorded songs with a bite, like “They Ain’t Making Jews Like Jesus Anymore” and “Asshole from El Paso,” and Friedman’s cowboy hat, shades and cigar became part of the image of the countrified hipster, satirical comic and cultural critic that he rode throughout his life. He died in June 2024.
I also enjoyed him for the series of detective novels he wrote, starting in the 1980s, with none other than himself as the crime-solving protagonist. The titles were always interesting, such as: “Kill Two Birds and Get Stoned” (2001) and “God Bless John Wayne” (1995). I also liked his ever-present cigar, and the fact that he once started his own line of cigars (I tried one; it was pretty good.).
And I admired his social consciousness. He founded a ranch for rescue animals, as he and his sister, Marcie, ran Echo Hill Ranch in the Texas Hill Country, which they inherited from their parents and which they offered as a summer camp, free of charge, to children of parents killed while serving in the U.S. military. Although he was born in Chicago, Friedman’s family moved to the Hill Country when he was young, where they opened Echo Hill.
And I was especially impressed when he ran for governor of Texas in 2006. He was a serious candidate, but I fondly remember his answer to one interviewer about why he was running: “I need the closet space.” The closets were never to be, as Friedman was defeated, receiving 12.6% of the votes, coming in fourth in the six-candidate lineup.
I’ve listened to Friedman’s final, posthumous album, and it’s a fine one. It’s filled with gently graveled vocals telling stories of life and loss, and though it may not have been intended as such, it’s an eloquent tribute to Friedman’s life.
I’m going turn over the album’s description to Raoul Hernandez, a music journalist entrusted to write Friedman’s website bio, where he elegantly explains Friedman’s final session:
“Poet of Motel 6” opens the album upon its producer’s bed of strings – mandolin, dobro, acoustic guitar – which all bounce a rousing and rising strum of mood and motion that encases Kinky’s folksy croon: tangy, twangy, intimate. Dressed with Joel Guzman’s Texican squeezebox, Mansfield’s country fiddle, and preternatural accompaniment from Panhandle whisperer Jimmie Dale Gilmore, the song at first appears autobiographical before unfolding a stirring ballad for Lone Star song prophet Billy Joe Shaver.
“May you lay in a field of stars, serenaded by a million guitars / playing songs of your honky-tonk youth / playing songs of your beautiful truth.”
Gilmore’s tickling harmony lopes behind Kinky’s ambling, heart-on-leather-vest recollection of his great friend, Waco’s poet laureate, who passed away in 2020. Finally the music parts up to the firmament itself and the main attraction intones:
“And then, one uncloudy day, God’s voice was heard across the heavens and this is what he said: ‘Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome Billy Joe Shaver.’”
Willie Nelson himself might shed a tear right there – for both the song’s subject and its singer.
“Hello, Good Morning” follows up with a back-porch ramble that embodies the entire album, which sounds like Kinky holding court at the fire pit, Kinky holding court in the main cabin living room, and Kinky courting the wide open range and wherever Texas roots music bubbles up from the Earth as a natural resource. And speaking of Willie, his daughter Amy Lee Nelson steps up here with a second vocal that conjures an honest-to-God Gram and Emmylou moment.
“Buddy, You’re Living My Dream” sounds like a tune Guy Clark found on his work bench and gave to Joel Guzman, who breathed life into it with his accordion before Kinky walked in and ordered drinks for the entire establishment.
Willie joint to be? Just as the Red Headed Stranger covered Clark’s “My Favorite Picture of You” late in the day, the man who ever only refused Kinky a single favor out of countless will want a crack at “See You Down the Highway.” In fact, the country titan’s lieutenant Mickey Raphael already blows harp on it:
“Are you going my way, dear old pal of mine? / We will never make enough money, love or time / But we’ll be dancing on the shoulder of the highway of the mind.”
Shout out to co-author and late L.A. song pundit Chuck E. Weiss.
“The Life & Death of a Rodeo Clown” pushes back from the table with a clip-clopping twirl and Mariachi horn. “Hummingbird Lanai” hums a languid lullaby to the elements – sky, sea, and land – on an island of the heart. “Kacey Needs a Song” reminds us Kristofferson wrote a Casey song once and would’ve commended his comrade here for this one.
Poet of Motel 6 finale “Whitney Walton Has Flown Away” opens with a lei lapping at the toes of trumpet, fiddle, and is that Mansfield on singing saw? Climb inside and sail away. Westward ho, to see Kinky once more.
Read the Kinkster’s bio in the link below. Light up a cigar. Check out the music. Read one of his novels. I hope you’ll become a fan.
Friedman’s bio from his website.
Here’s the title track:
Tracklist:
01 – Poet of Motel 6
02 – Hello, Good Morning
03 – Buddy, You’re Living My Dream
04 – See You Down the Highway
05 – The Life and Death of a Rodeo Clown
06 – Sometimes
07 – Banjo, Sophie, and Me
08 – Hummingbird Lanai
09 – Kacey Needs a Song
10 – Whitney Walton Has Flown Away
Blues Roadhouse 