Here at the University, it's the Dave Matthews Band. Florida State? Creed. (How appropriately unsavory.) UNC-Chapel Hill, not to be left out in the cold, claims to be the birthplace of another illustrious college-town band, the now defunct and absurdly named trio Ben Folds Five.
Many are familiar with the band's borderline-sappy "Brick" from a few summers back. In turn, many of those people were none too glad to hear of the band's demise late last year. But there is more to the man behind the maudlin, as any fan will tell you. Mr. Folds brings old-fashioned rock-and-roll piano into the present and crafts lyrics that are witty, wise and affecting all at once. A listen (or two, or maybe 14) to his new solo offering, "Rockin' the Suburbs," will convince even the most disillusioned listener of his numerous talents - as writer, producer, and player of every instrument but the kazoo. (And yeah, he's probably got skills with that too.)
Kicking off the album and setting the pace is "Annie Waits," a jaunty yet forlorn tribute to unrequited love. Despite its general poignancy and a pleading climax ("who will be the one forever more?/Annie, I could be/if we're both still lonely when we're old"), the song manages to leave you feeling like a Brat Packer dancing among the library stacks. There's a distinct air of junior-prom-at-Shermer-High here, kids, and Ben Folds is our modern-day Duckie.
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"Zak and Sara" follows "Annie" nicely as one of the record's most enjoyable tracks. It's utterly infectious - chock-full of oohs, ahhs and hand claps. Listen to it in your car with the windows down, and bring some friends along - just don't analyze the song while you're at it.
Then there's "Losing Lisa," a strong standout with lots of sing-along potential. The piano work bears resemblance to that of "Song for the Dumped," Folds's hilarious, angst-ridden anthem from a few years back. It also conjures up memories of something a little farther back in time - the music of the Monkees. Davy Jones would be proud, indeed.
"Fred Jones Part 2" features backup vocals by fellow lyrical visionary John McCrea of Cake, and harkens back to "The Unauthorized Biography of Reinhold Messner" from the Five's final album. Its more introspective tone (also noted in later tracks) actually seems to reflect the lyrics, while many of the songs on the album artfully mask them with a snappy tune and offbeat sound effects. The man certainly has a way with that - you don't realize while bobbing your head and humming along merrily that the stories he's telling are often quite heartbreaking. He's seen a lot in his day, and he looks back on those experiences a different man - a bystander, almost.
Approaching the album's end, we find the first single and title track, "Rockin' the Suburbs." It's an absolute joy to behold, with less of Folds's signature banging of the ivories and more, well, rockin' on guitars, something unforeseen in his former grouping of bass, piano and drums. The lyrics themselves are even more entertaining. Folds weaves a humorous satire on an oh-so-rough life as a token white male in the music industry.
Loaded with references to such pop culture relics as Michael Jackson, McDonald's and even Preparation H, "Rockin' the Suburbs" spits in the face of all that is mainstream while owning up to the fact that Folds, too, is your average white male. In a move that wins this reviewer over, he even takes well aimed shots at Fred Durst and his ilk ("Mom and Dad you made me so uptight/I'm gonna cuss on the mic tonight/I don't know how much I can take/girl give me something I can break"). Well put. Let's see how Eminem could fare without resorting to childish name-calling and feeding his incessant hunger for shock value.
In short, "Suburbs" is a diamond in the recent rough of (dare I say unnecessarily) angry metal and underdressed teenage girl pop. Ben Folds displays his instrumental prowess wonderfully, and at the same time brings the listener back down to earth with humor and realism. Not too shabby for an angry white boy.
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