THE COMPLEAT RANDY NEWMAN WIT, EMOTION ON DISPLAY AT ROYCE HALL.

Byline: Rob Lowman Entertainment Editor

During his sold-out performance at UCLA's Royce Hall on Friday night, Randy Newman had the enthusiastic audience join in for a number called ``I'm Dead,'' from his 1998 studio album ``Bad Love.''

Newman, with his usual barbed wit, introduced the song as a jab at his own nearly 40-year career, noting that gray-haired groups like Deep Purple and the Moody Blues were still dragging themselves on stage.

``I have nothing to say, but I'm going to say it anyway,'' he began the tune, accompanying himself on piano. It continues, `` ... I hear the people say, 'Why he won't go away,' '' before eventually moving onto the chorus, ``I'm dead but I don't know it,'' at which point the crowd echoed, ``He's dead, he's dead.''

It was a delightful, slightly loony moment in an evening filled with them, along with some of real emotion. While Newman may not mind poking fun at himself and his contemporaries, he is one of the few people who can honestly drag himself on stage without sounding dated. That's because most of his brilliant songs - which are sometimes overshadowed by his wonderful film scores (``The Natural,'' ``Avalon,'' ``Toy Story'' and ``Monsters, Inc.'') - don't belong to any one time or genre.

Much is made of the musical influences of the ``almost UCLA alum,'' from classical (he jokingly and self-effacingly made a number of references Friday on how his work pales next to that of great composers like Shostakovich) to music of the South (where he spent some time while growing up) to pop, rock and, of course, movie scores (having grown up in a family of film composers). In a way, Newman's songs are mini-film scores, with the music meant to evoke a mood and sometimes an era.

When he sings a song like ``In Germany Before the War'' - as he did Friday - the music has an ominous, eerie feel, reminding you of Fritz Lang's great 1931 film ``M,'' which also is about a child killer. And Newman sings the song, which is written from the point of view of the wistful murderer, with utter conviction. (Even his sometimes croaky voice, which he mocks, is effective.) That's the second reason why his songs are so distinctive (and timeless). No matter what persona he adopts in a song - a racist redneck (``Rednecks'') or an arrogant Beverly Hills ass (``My Life Is Good'') - he doesn't do it as a joke. (Interpreters of his songs often make that mistake, not understanding that much of the satirical edge comes from the sincerity with which Newman performs the song.)

While keeping up a stream of often hilarious commentary between tunes (and sometimes during them) Newman ran through many of his best-known numbers Friday. There were older ones like ``Political Science'' (a swipe at America's foreign-policy arrogance written in 1972 with the chorus ``let's drop the big one'' that he introduced with the line, ``Finally, they're listening to me''); ``You Can Leave Your Hat On'' (``I wrote it as a joke ... now I think it's the saddest song I ever wrote''); the unofficial and misunderstood city anthem ``I Love L.A.''; and newer songs like ``You Got a Friend in Me'' from ``Toy Story'' and the sweetly confessional ``I Miss You,'' about feelings for his first wife.

Never afraid to explore the dark side, Newman once said, ``I never let a relationship get in the way of a good song,'' when talking about ``I Miss You'' and admits that he doesn't ``completely mean this song.'' But that doesn't diminish the poignant emotions it elicits. And though Newman can write a a great love song, he kept the zingers coming. When telling a story about how his son - who works in Hollywood - was annoyed by a bad film score, someone from the audience urged him to name the movie. Newman playfully replied he wouldn't give the title, but it was ``like 'Mystic River,' '' which was scored by its director and amateur musician Clint Eastwood. Ouch - take no prisoners. ``I know how hard it is to write a good score,'' he noted.

So when Newman ended the evening of more than 30 songs with ``Lonely at the Top,'' the irony was even more apparent. While it may have been written as a joke about his lack of popularity (despite heaps of critical acclaim), Newman once again anticipated a phenomenon - our vapid celebrity-driven world where we read interview after interview of stars complaining about their lives. You know it's tough being a prophet - a funny one at that.

Rob Lowman, [phone]

robert.lowman(at)dailynews.com

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Randy Newman's songs, both satirical and tender, benefit from his sincere delivery.

Michael Caulfield/WireImage.com