Artist Spotlight - Kinky Friedman - Memories of Jenni Finlay

Kinky Friedman’s Poet of Motel 6 backs sharp narrative storytelling (the title track) with equal measures heart (“See You Down the Highway”) and home (“Whitney Walton Has Flown Away”). The legendary satirist’s swan song frequently reveals a softer side rarely seen in albums past.

“Kinky had been working on this record for several years,” says our own Jenni Finlay, who worked with Friedman many times over the past decade. “He was a unique character who wrote ‘Get Your Biscuits in the Oven and Your Buns in the Bed’ at the same time as a sentimental and romantic song like ‘Marilyn and Joe.’

“The Poet of Motel 6 is his final hoorah and a culmination of those talents in one special album.” Finlay remembers a few favorite memories with the Lone Star state’s most lovable curmudgeon:

“Kinky Friedman took my management client James McMurtry out on the road as tour support for three dates – the Birchmere in Alexandria, Virginia; the Nightstage in Cambridge, Massachusetts; and Lonestar Roadhouse, Upper West Side Manhattan – in fall 1988 (even before James’ debut album Too Long in the Wasteland came out the following year). Kinky knew all the heavy hitters in New York City and he wanted them to check out James’ music when they wrapped up the short tour in New York City. The Lonestar Roadhouse was a hangout for the folks from Saturday Night Live like Phil Hartman, Dana Carvey, Dennis Miller and they all showed up like their predecessors John Belushi and Dan Aykroyd did at the legendary Lonestar Cafe.

“Of course, James always keeps his head down and didn’t really notice the star power in the room. He played his forty-five minutes like it was just another gig – only realizing after the fact that all these huge stars had seen him play. That gig opened so many doors for James. All these music business people – record label owners, accountants, booking agents – who trusted Kinky’s opinion were all clamoring to work with James after seeing his set that night.

“So, yes, Kinky was snarky as all get out, but he also had the biggest heart and was more sentimental than people knew. (Listen closely: You can hear that sensitivity in his writing – and especially in his last record.) His dog rescue alone proved that. Kinky looked for lost souls who he felt were worthy of saving and he put them up on his shoulders. He did everything to give his dogs a good home.  

“I identified with Kinky because my dad Kent Finlay was the same way with his songwriters. He always put them on his shoulders to raise them up. (Dad loved Kinky. He once told me, ‘I even voted for him when he ran for governor of Texas. I mean, I knew what he was doing, but why the hell not?’)

“The thing I’ll probably remember most about Kinky is the time I stayed at his ranch with little cabins all over the property. Sean Rima, Brian Molnar, Augie Meyers and I were there with a bunch of others working on Kinky’s record. We stayed for two weeks and became the best of friends. Unfortunately, Kinky told us at some point, his typewriter had broken – and he was right in the middle of writing his last book.

“I searched and searched for weeks later and finally found the same typewriter on eBay with a new ribbon. I held onto the typewriter until Kinky came to play our Rebels and Renegades showcase at Threadgill’s that spring. He smiled broadly when I presented the typewriter to him. ‘That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me,’ he said quietly. “I like your boots,” I quickly said to lighten the mood. Kinky replied without hesitation: “They speak highly of you.”

– Brian T. Atkinson