Saturday, July 30, 2005

Why Folds Still Gets Five Stars

Entry # 2

If you are a Ben Folds fan then you know what I am talking about when I say that the man can do no wrong. On his latest release Songs for Silverman, Ben once again proves that success as an artist cannot be measured merely according to the parameters and terms of a critical or commercial agenda. Silverman is yet another example of why he doesn’t nor will he ever need those things to be a successful artist. Rather, his success stems from the ability he has to write melody after beautiful melody and present them within a familiar Folds package of the piano/bass/drum combination. Silverman, however, adds something to his repertoire that I don’t think was there before: true sophistication.

I have been a fan of Folds since shortly after the release of Ben Folds Five’s eponymous first release. The first song I heard off the album was “Underground” and it had all the right elements: It rocked (!), there were great vocals/harmonies, it was different (no guitar), and it had just the right element of humor in it (“Officer Friendly’s little boy’s got a mohawk, and he knows just where we’re coming from”). I got the album and found that it was loaded with the other element that is so crucial to my connecting with a band. It was my central argument in the Weezer entry and that is that the overwhelming sense and range of emotional ideas and feelings presented by Folds, Jesse, and Sledge. Song’s like “Philosophy,” “Best Imitation of Myself” and “The Last Polka” are still enough, I think, to make all the Emo-geeks pine, wishing that they had the ability to write songs that good.

The thing that makes Ben Folds so awesome, though (sadly, as apposed to Rivers Cuomo) is that he has continued to deliver. Most of you will at least have the band’s second album Whatever and Ever Amen for which the band received the most critical attention for their single “Brick.” Brick aside (and you almost always have to put singles aside, don’t you?) the album is full of more tunes that move and amaze. Part of the reason for this, and I forgot to mention this above, is that part of the Folds formula is that he almost always tells some sort of story in his songs. The most notable examples of this on Whatever are the songs “Missing the War” (probably my all time favorite BFF song), “Fair” and “Selfless, Cold and Composed” (My second favorite). I saw the trio for the first time while touring for this album at the Pima County fair just outside Tucson, and this sealed the deal. They were just as good: harmonies just as tight, charming, funny in person as they ever were on the album.

The band’s final release The Unauthorized Biography Of Reinhold Messner, made it hard to say goodbye. I mean, have you heard that horn section on “Army”? “Magic” (penned by Jesse), and “Lullaby” just added to the wealth and emotion of the first two releases.

When Ben Folds (finally) released his first solo album (Rockin’ the Suburbs) on 9/11/2001, I remember coping with what had happened that morning by going out and buying that album. Back was the Fold’s classic humor, (see the title song) the story format (“Zak and Sara,” & “Not the Same”) and the—sometimes very personal,—emotional tunes (“Fred Jones, Pt.2,” & “Still Fighting It”). If you had a chance to see Folds on the first part of that tour, you saw how diverse he could be, playing with 4 other musicians, and if you saw him on the latter part of that tour you saw this versatility raised to an exponential level as you helped Ben by singing those horns on “Army” because he was all alone on stage.

Just incase you missed them, leading up to the release of Silverman, Ben released three self produced EPs: Speed Graphic, Super D, and Sunny 16. All of which contain excellent, full-album worthy material. My favorites are the cover of The Cure’s “In between Days,” the solo version of “Give Judy My Notice” and the song about Ben’s now residence, “Adelaide.” My favorites tend to be fairly pointless in a blog like this, they are another one of those things that are like butts. Everybody’s… well you know.

Anyway, all of this has led me to the latest release from Ben Songs for Silverman. It was released at the very beginning of the summer, before the new Weezer, Beck, Coldplay, Corgan, before all of them, and better. As I stated at the beginning of this little blog turned essay is that Ben has moved from humor here to something even better: sophistication. The old format is there, even more so than on Suburbs, just listen to the sweet “Trusted.” What we have here, though, is almost a “growing up and stretching out” for Ben. He seems to be under less pressure to be comical (maybe he got that out of his system on the B-side from “Landed”). Weird Al’s cameo on the album is just back-up singer (“Time”). You get the sense that you are listening to a jam on “Prison Food,” and if you watch the making-of dvd that comes with certain versions of the album, you see that that is precisely what it started as. I can hardly believe that I am being gypped out of a stop on the “Odd Man Out” tour with Rufus Wainwright. For those of you who are fans and also have to miss, see if you can’t find Ben and Rufus doing Wham’s “Careless Whisper”—classic!

So in a nut shell, I am a big Ben fan. You should be too. If you haven’t bought an album since Whatever, get caught up! If you heard the new album and were like my friend (“I just couldn’t get into it, man”) give it another listen. For me, Folds is goodness.

What Happened to Weezer?

Starmaster's Guide to Goodness
Entry#1

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So the year is 1994 and Jon Thwaits and I are working together at this po-dunky little dollar movie theatre. Mann Theatres is a perfect place for us to hang out, talk music, and get paid 4.25 an hour to do so. John Heidenreich had just told us about this new band that he happened to see and tape on Conan O'Brian a few nights before. The band was called Weezer and the lead singer was this short dude with long bowl cut hair and black framed glasses. The lead guitarist was sporting a Cub Scout hat and the bassist was off the wall, dancing and grooving around all to the tune of a song called "Undone." After watching that performance our 16-year-old lives were immediately changed for the better. What made the deal sweeter, was that we found their debut album to be full of other sweet, perfect rock songs that all at once delighted, moved and inspired us. We were hooked. Over the next few years I saw Weezer play at small shows 3 or 4 times. Each time we went to a concert, we were able to meet and hang with the band afterwards (not as their homies, but as loyal fans getting autographs and pictures). I was a member of the fan club and would talk with Mykel and Carlie often about their adventures.

But it wasn’t just being a fanboy that made Weezer so special to us. We loved their tunes. Every song on Blue made us want to be rock stars. Mostly because every song on Blue is amazing. Think about it for a minute. Maybe with only the exception of Buddy Holly, every song inspires some kind of unique feeling: Jonas, No One Else, Say it Ain’t So, Holiday, Only in Dreams-- There was something about those songs that changed me as a person. Seriously.
So I go back to the question I began this entry with—What happened? When Pinkerton came out, I was so pleased that in many ways they delivered again. I remember listening to it for the first time sitting in the bed of a pick-up the day it was released on some headphones. When that first solo on Tired of Sex went down, I literally had tears in my eyes. Why Bother, El Scorcho, Getchoo and as always some of the B-sides from the singles (from Blue: Susanne, then Devotion & I Just Threw Out the Love of My Dreams—so sweet) continued to speak to me on some other level. But I could hear something in some of those tunes. Something seemed a little funny. Too bad it had to be four years before I could find out what.

In 2000 when Green came out, I had such high hopes. Rivers’ only release between the two albums (American Girls) allured me with the hopes that my boys would be back in action. Hash Pipe was pretty rockin’ but when I bought the album on its release date I was devastated. What happened? Why does every song sound the same? Where are the sweet guitar solos? What happened to all of the emotion? It was gone. And I am afraid to say that for the most part it has never come back.

Maladroit was a little better. It has a few tunes on there that I really like: Burndt Jamb and Death and Destruction among them—but most of the songs still sounded like Green leftovers. To make matters worse, Weezer’s commercial success had skyrocketed during the last few years and so it seemed to me that they were being reinforced for writing crappy music! So aggravating.

Because I am not one to give up hope, when I started to read Karl’s descriptions of the new stuff being written for the latest album Make Believe, I got my hopes up again. Rick Rubin was said to be producing the recording, and I thought to myself, finally! This is going to be it! Even Pat Wilson, the coolest dude in the world, was dissin on the other albums and saying that this new album was the best since Pinkerton.

Then it came out. So, so sad. The only really good song on it (This is Such A Pity) is one that is a total departure from their regular sound—and this is why it is so good! Because their “regular sound” can now be summed up with crap like Slave, Crab, Smile…(sigh) maybe it’s the single word titles. I am out of explanations.

Unfortunately--and this is an update written several years after the initial post, the Red Album (with the exception of "I am the Greatest Man Who Ever Lived" and "Miss Sweeney" also was lack-luster, and Raditude? Wow. It stinketh through and through. (update: Hurley came out. I didn't even buy it)

So I pose these questions for discussion:

1. Why does a band who seems to recognize and be capable of writing really great, unique songs fill three albums with virtually the same song rerecorded with different lyrics?
2. What happened to the feelings that inspired Only In Dreams? Why haven’t they recorded a single jam song since OID when they must be the funnest songs to play on stage, and are by nature so emotional?
3. Can we blame Rivers?
4. Do you think there is any connection between the fact that ever since Matt Sharp left the band it has never been as good as it was to begin with?
5. Am I being too critical? Are Green, Maladroit and Make Believe actually some of the band’s best work? If so, how do you figure?