Ben Folds
Way To Normal
Epic Records
By Mike Randall
For anyone who’s ever met Ben Folds or seen him up close from the first twenty rows, the awkwardness he wears across his face as he scans the crowd catches you by surprise. It’s as if he’s looking out wondering how he got to be in such a position, while you stare back realizing why you’re listening to the guy in the first place. It’s a bond that makes him and his music so charming: you connect to the honesty he exudes; he uses you as his therapist. It’s because of that dynamic that he has no problem leading off his seventh album, Way To Normal, with a song about falling on his face and injuring himself during a show in Japan, and it signifies all things back on track for Mr. Folds.
“Hiroshima (B B B Benny Hit His Head)” is that opener, and it’s “Benny and the Jets”-inspired aura lets fans know right away he’s returning to his old shenanigans. It’s classic Folds, taking his everyday successes, failures, happiness and sadness and mashing them up with lucid, often humorous sarcasm that has been somewhat missing on recent solo outings. Folds probably hurt himself pretty bad during the spill, but he also has the self awareness to realize it’s not that hard to picture, wherein which lies the beauty of a timeless Folds song. There aren’t many twists, it’s going to be narrated like it’s happening in front of you and you’re either going to feel like laughing, crying or wincing, perhaps all at once.
Folds can deliver humor with the best of them, and he does so on “Hiroshima” and “Bitch Went Nuts” (“The bitch went nuts/She stabbed my basketball and the speakers to my stereo”), which just might be a sequel to “Song For The Dumped.” Where he’s remained the strongest, however, is the dichotomy of a song like “Cologne” (and it’s instrumental predecessor, “Before Cologne”), which has the effect of making you sad before you even know it’s a sad song. “Here in Cologne/I know I said it wrong/I walked you to the train/And back across alone,” he sings, and you don’t know whether to laugh or feel sorry for him as he lets go of a loved one. There’s much of the same during “You Don’t Know Me,” a duet with Regina Spektor, which finds Folds asking, “Why the fuck would you want me back?” above his chirping piano.
It’s that kind of ebb and flow that defines a great Folds record. Even after a song like “Cologne,” Folds either has ADD or doesn’t want to keep his listener down for too long, so he comes back with a nutty song like “Errant Dog.” A near play-by-play of his beloved dog untying himself from a tree, “Dog” sounds like it’s aching to be performed with the somewhat re-formed Ben Folds Five. Folds even seems to be rewarding fans for allowing him to experiment on the cubist Spektor rhythm of “You Don’t Love Me” and some of the record’s more unfamiliar moments. The electronic overtones of the aptly-titled “The Frown Song” or the rainy piano scuffed with scratchy effects of “Free Coffee” might not go over with everyone, so he sneaks in a familiar monster hook here and a gorgeous motif there.
Folds has kind of become the George Costanza of music, and he writes like a Seinfeld episode, taking everyday situations and dropping you in the middle of them. From the outside they’re not the least bit compelling, but from his vantage point you feel like he’s a long-time pal, and his actions leave you unnerved, relieved, anxious, exuberant and highly entertained. Whereas some of his post-Ben Folds Five attempts have sounded like a spin-off, on Way to Normal it feels like a new episode of the classic old show.
|
