Kinky Friedman Rises Again

When you’ve been a part of Bob Dylan’s Rolling Thunder Revue; partied with John Belushi; hung out with Iggy Pop; hosted parties that attracted Jack Nicholson, Joni Mitchell, Dylan, and hundreds more; written north of 30 books; not to mention run for agriculture commissioner and governor of Texas, you’ve proven yourself to be a national treasure and nobody would fault you for slowing the hell down. Kinky Friedman is undoubtedly the former, and he even accomplished the latter — for a while, anyway.

Then, in 2018, after being prodded back into writing songs by his pal Willie Nelson, Friedman released the surprisingly solid Circus of Life, his first collection of all original material in 40 years. That album showcased his famous wit and humor, delivered with a bit more subtlety and nuance. Its follow-up, Resurrection, comes just a year later, proving that Friedman still has plenty to say, and even some surprises left in him. In fact, parts of the album are downright poignant.

Produced by multi-instrumentalist and Grammy-winner Larry Campbell (who for years shared the stage with Dylan as well), Friedman delivers 11 originals (co-writing four with Doc Elliot) that deal with mortality (in both human and canine form), love, heartbreak —all forms of the human condition. Musically, Campbell (who handles all the stringed instruments with help from the great Bill Payne on keys) fleshes out the arrangements without overdoing it. There’s plenty of space to breathe.

The buoyant opener, “Mandela’s Blues,” was inspired by a chance meeting between Friedman and Mosima Gabriel “Tokyo” Sexwale, an anti-apartheid activist, while Friedman was on a book tour of South Africa. Sexwale regaled him with the story of how Nelson Mandela, who occupied the next cell while the two were imprisoned on Robben Island, played the Friedman classic “Ride ’em Jewboy” every night for three years straight. Friedman returns the love here while also reminding us what a real leader of a nation is willing to sacrifice for the greater good, just in case we’ve forgotten.

Willie Nelson joins Friedman on the dusty Texas-folk of the title cut, an existential rumination on aging, resilience, spirituality, karma, and second chances. It’s a stunning track. Other standouts include Campbell’s frolicking pedal steel on the traditional-by-way-of-the-Burrito-Brothers shuffle of “Greater Cincinnati,” and “Carryin’ the Torch” with a twist that hits so hard it makes you want to re-listen to the song with fresh ears. “Me & Billy Swan” could be the 21-st century reboot of Friedman’s “Nashville Casualty & Life.”

The brilliance of Kinky Friedman is this: For every “Get Your Biscuits in the Oven and Your Buns in the Bed,” there’s a “Wild Man from Borneo.” All the Texas legends from Guy to Townes to Kris to Billy Joe seem to have the ability to make you break down and cry, then laugh away the tears with the very next song, or even the next line. Resurrection proves, as if we didn’t already know for decades now, that Friedman deserves to be, and in fact is, seated right alongside that sainted group of Texas legends.