Dean Friedman at the Epstein Theatre, Liverpool. October 2015. Photograph by Ian D. Hall.

Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating 9/10

The city that doesn’t know how to stop singing is always enhanced by a visitor of repute from beyond its natural domain. Many of the greats from across the seas, from beyond the realms in which the Atlantic Ocean divides and sometimes conquers as it crashes into the cliffs and harbours and steals moment after moment of time and crumbling portions of land, have made their way to Liverpool to remind the city that America and the musical empire of Britain are forever linked and entwined.

One such entertainer who always receives a resounding welcome when he docks in any of the city’s venues is the ever impressive Dean Friedman and as October steams headlong with the rush of a soul tormented by November’s steely approach, the crowd that braved the ridicule of missing yet another drab performance by England in this year’s World Cup, were treated to two sets by the great American song writer and each one filled to the brim with promise, angst, overwhelming humour and a glint in the eye that promised much and delivered all it set out to do.

Almost two years to the day since Mr Friedman last stepped onto the stage at the Epstein Theatre, the music that the man carries round with him like a passport in the hands of a serial traveller, prized, possessed and full of memory and adventure, was just as keenly listened to and taken to the bosom and heart of those attending the good natured and undeniably cool gig.

Music may be subjective but genius isn’t and as the words flowed over the Epstein Theatre audience, the revelry, the sheer size of the poetic stance that formed each song was to be heard, one that was delivered in sweet tones and ear catching sarcasm, both aspects wrapping themselves around with sincerity and honest appraisal.

Tracks such as the excellent I Never Really Liked You That Much, Shopping Bag Ladies, McDonald’s Girl, Rocking Chair, the utterly tremendous nod to The Wirral’s Half Man Half Biscuit in A Baker’s Tale, Death To The Neighbors and It’s A Wonderful Life all glowed like fiery shooting embers in the October air and were topped off with the unveiling of a brand new song and one that truly captured the love that the audience held for Mr. Friedman, I Could Fall For You.

Dean Friedman joked that music lovers tend to fall into two camps where his music is involved, its either Dean Who? or they only ever remember one song, for the Epstein audience, a crowd blessed with far superior musical knowledge than the average English city, this was a night in which every song was loved, hummed along with or openly sang alongside with, the city that never stops singing holds Dean Friedman in high regard; some acts that cross the Atlantic are deserving of such honour.

Ian D. Hall