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POP MUSIC REVIEW : A Sharp-Tongued Friedman Jests at the Cinegrill

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If Groucho Marx had been from Texas (and a singer-songwriter) he might have been Kinky Friedman. If Raymond Chandler had been from Texas (and Jewish), he might have been Kinky Friedman. That’s right: The Kinkster is two . . . two . . . two sharp-tongued entertainers in one!

At the Cinegrill on Monday, Friedman physically more resembled Groucho, with his mustache above and stogie in front of his sharp tongue.

The court jester of country music’s Texas outlaw contingent (Waylon ‘n’ Willie ‘n’ pals) hasn’t lost a step since the genre’s mid-’70s heyday, when he fronted a band called the Texas Jewboys.

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With sometime backing from Billy Swan and Van Dyke Parks (and former Three Dog Night singer Danny Hutton), Friedman started the early show with a sing-along tribute to Texas clock-tower killer Charles Whitman and ended with his signature barroom brawl sing-along “They Ain’t Makin’ Jews Like Jesus Anymore.”

In between, the barbed Badlands bard drew guffaws and winces with his simultaneously high-intellect and cheap-shot songs, jokes and jabs at (and from) family and friends in the audience.

Friedman was also there to hawk “Musical Chairs,” his latest mystery novel, featuring himself as protagonist.

And why not?

He hasn’t released a new album in more than a decade, during which time he’s written five thrillers. And these days, a man using his music to sell a book he actually wrote himself is admirable, compared to, say, M.C. Hammer’s shilling for soda.

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