Dean Friedman, Dean Friedman, 1977, :35
★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆
It's like someone took all of the 1970s AOR and concentrated it onto one slab of vinyl. Vest-wearing, mustachioed Friedman sings of getting high, coming to peace with his crazy mother, and free love. You can practically smell the colitas and polyester. Friedman's got a straightforward story-telling style of songwriting like Harry Chapin without the extended imagery and a nasal voice like Al Yankovic without the satiric zaniness. Sample lyric: "Anytime I get a little silly, please try not to be dismayed / You know it's really not my fault / Just take everything I say with a grain of salt." Okay, then. A low point of the album is the histrionic and stretched thin metaphor of preferring to win at Hearts rather than winning at "Solitaire." If you get his drift. As a whole, it's corny as hell, but somehow endearing, like someone who's really ugly but confident. Favorite tracks: his only US hit "Ariel," the practically rockin' "I May Be Young," the swinging big-band style "Funny Papers."
