Albums by this artist

Songs For Silverman (2005)

Ben Folds

Songs For Silverman


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Ben Folds
Songs For Silverman
Epic, 2005
RiYL: Joe Jackson, Randy Newman, Todd Rundgren
Like a lot of prodigies with thick glasses, Ben Folds is a better playwright than journalist. He writes dreadfully witty songs about characters that can't exist in real life, idealized teen lovers, sun-kissed hippie goddesses, and a "Ben Folds" who is no more the real singer/songwriter than the guy crouching in a bondage mask inside the album sleeve.

On his first album apart from his eponymous Five, Rockin' The Suburbs, Folds celebrated his Todd Rundgren role as sole composer and performer with a series of one-act plays about discarded retirees, suburban suicides, and wannabe rap-metal stars. At no time did it seem that any of this people existed anywhere other than in Folds' head.

Songs For Silverman, which finds Folds returning to playing with a band, also finds him trying to write songs about real people, with mixed results. "Late," to the departed Elliott Smith, is notable for Folds' complete befuddlement as to acquaintance Smith's declining emotional condition. "Gracie" is slightly better than Tommy Lee's song to his baby, but only slightly. Fold already wore out his welcome for songs about the joys of progeny with the tacky "Still Fighting It" on the last record. The wittiest move the whole album makes is to employ "Weird Al" Yankovic on backing vocals for the otherwise deadly serious "Time." "Time takes time," Al and Ben harmonize, "y'know."

The album's best moments come when Folds returns to his established role as fussy essayist, as on opener "Bastard," which attacks the common Folds topic of growing old gracelessly, and the lovely suite "Jesusland," which imagines Christ's disappointment upon touring the part of America which holds him in highest esteem. It's illustrative of Songs' confusion that the singer does a better Jesus than Ben Folds. The single "Landed" is a nice exception, as Folds really nails the falsetto chorus.

Musically the collaboration with bassist Jared Reynolds and drummer Lindsay Jamieson is a step backwards. Folds is a piano virtuoso, but the touches of guitar and synth that livened up Suburbs are here absent, and the current trio configuration lacks the vigor and lo-fi sloppiness of his old running mates. Extra demerits for the sappy dedication to the missus.

What is it about marriage and childbirth that turns talented songwriters into hacks? Ben Folds' brain hasn't completely turned to mush like Liz Phair's, but I long for the days when he took potshots at Korn and raged incoherently at ex-girlfriends he probably made up.

MARK T.R. DONOHUE | Mark T.R. Donohue is a prolific freelance writer whose areas of expertise include Rockies baseball, video games, genre television, English soccer, and pub rock. He lives in Colorado, where he cultivates the largest and creepiest private collection of Alyson Hannigan memorabilia in the Mountain West.