RSS Feed

Category Archives: 1 Star

Ben Folds Five – The Sound of the Life of the Mind

Posted on

Genre: Powerpop, Bad Music

I’m warning you: this is not a positive, glowing review of a postive, glowing comeback album from one of the best bands of the 90s. Nor is it a completely indifferent opinion from a part-time fan.

I love Ben Folds Five. Whatever And Ever Amen still stands as one of the most important, defining albums of powerpop music. But, right now, the only thing more negative than my current thoughts about The Sounds Of The Life Of The Mind are my current thoughts about Amanda Palmer’s whiny, pretentious kickstarter campaign, the dumb bitch.

If you’ve never heard this band (and I assume, then, that you’ve been living under the largest rock on the planet, or you’re 2 years old and deaf) then please close this page, sit back and listen to The Last Polka, Kate, Song For The Dumped, or any of the perfect songs they created.

Okay. Here we go.

The scary thing is, when Ben Folds Five announced they were reforming after a near-12-year break, no one seemed anxious. I’m not sure if it was because no one cared, or because everyone just assumed they could get back together in a room and write Underground Pt 2. No one seemed anxious that for 12 years every member has veered off the powerpop road and into other territories; Darren Jessee formed the ultra-hipster-indie-folk Hotel Lights, whose effect was more dimming than bright. Robert Sledge disappeared altogether, and Ben Folds… well, surprisingly no one seemed anxious that, you know, Ben Folds’ solo career hasn’t exactly produced the joyful, jump-around-the-room-and-smash-everything stuff you’d have expected. His talent has always been in writing simple pop songs in the way that only he can do, like The Replacements without the tattoos. But lately, things have started to soften up and get a little too quiet and Elton John-y (much like Elton’s last 500 albums, ironically). Songs for Silverman, especially, was the sound of an aging songwriter stretching hard to appeal to his aging audience – who, unlike himself, weren’t yet middle-aged. Are you falling asleep yet? (That is harsh, I know, because, amongst the romantic ballads and the ballads and the ballads about his children, some tracks like Bitch Went Nuts and Saskia Hamilton did appear. Occasionally. Never.)

Maybe i’m being hopeful, but call me hopeful for expecting a new Ben Folds Five album to be exciting and catchy and anthemic. “Punk Rock for sissies.” The early signs weren’t so endearing though.

The album title alone is fucking terrible. The Sounds Of The Life Of The Mind? I mean, that sure makes you want to hear it, what with the sounds and the life and the mind and all that cool stuff. Oh wow, I am so intrigued. “Hey, bro, have you heard the new Five album, THESOUNDSOFTHELIFEOFTHEMIND?”

But I digress.

Above anything else, this album was ALWAYS going to be a matter of which Ben Folds Five turned up – was it going to be the one that made a dent in the Billboard Charts with its impressive way of appealing to both the mass market and music fans, or the band that released Reinhold Messner in 1999, by which time the magic had already disappeared?

So you press play, it’s all or nothing now. And the opener, Erase Me, makes you wish you had the flu today and didn’t have the strength to have pressed play.

Erase Me is lifted straight from The Unauthorized Biography of Reinhold Messner. It labors on for five fucking minutes with no real hooks or memorability or anything other than casting a magic spell on you to hit the skip button. “Eeee-rase me.” No problem, Ben. Honestly, the first chorus of the album sums up the next 9 tracks in a way that I never could – “what the fuck is this?”

What the fuck IS this? It’s a great start.

And then… then, Michael Praytor, Five Years Later reels you in like a blind fish and gives you false promises because it’s, somehow, awesome. I think my actual words upon hearing this fine slice of sweet Ben Folds Five cake were “YES. FINALLY.” All the things that made this band classic are here – the bouncing piano, the distorted bass, the JELLYFISH HARMONIES ARE EVEN HERE.

And that’s the end. False promises. Like a child molester hiding in a clown suit luring kids to his ice cream van. If this record was just simply Michael Praytor repeated 10 times, it would get 5 stars. Unfortunately, someone told Ben Folds that he is 46 years old.

Sky High, On Being Frank, the title track… do you hear that?

That is the sound of Ben Folds getting old.

It’s all a bit squeeky clean. It’s all a bit too nice. Man, the best thing about this band used to be was that they sounded like they were playing right in front of you, bashing the shit out of that piano together and making your eardrums bleed. Playing Ben Folds Five at low volume used to be illegal in Europe because it only works when the band are loud.

They’re “nice” tracks, sure. There’s nothing wrong with them; they’re absolutely average. I feel nothing towards them, nothing at all, which is the only real trophy The Sounds Of The Life Of The Mind can win. A dull, lifeless medal made from Alanis Morissette’s dull lifeless lifelessness.

If you’ve heard Ben Folds’ last solo release, Lonely Avenue, you know exactly what to expect here. But I can’t really sit and complain: i’m the stupid fucker who bought Lonely Avenue on cd and vinyl and the goddamn handwritten autographed manuscript too before even hearing it. And that’s when everything clicks, and you realize…


Draw A Crowd may be the worst song you’ll hear this year. No joke. It’s even worse than that warbling St Vincent song where she turns on the octaver and makes it sound like a cat. Oh wait, that’s all of them. But back to Draw A Crowd – what the fuck is this shit?

I’m putting the video at the bottom so you can hear it for yourself. Click it right now and behold the marvelous beauty of Draw A Crowd.

Okay. Is he…

Is he…

Is he trying to rap? Is he trying to talk? Has someone broken into the studio while they were recording vocals and told him his car has been stolen? Has covering Bitches Ain’t Shit turned Ben Folds into a kind of psuedo-50 Cent? In the UK, I wouldn’t even give him the merit of 1 pence for that attempt.

And then comes the chorus- NO, WHY. WHY WHY WHY DID YOU HAVE TO DO THIS BEN FOLDS? “Chorus”. I say chorus loosely because it sounds more like the kind of song your boyfriend writes for you to make you kiss him, but instead of being sombre and romantic it arrives in the same style as his punk rock band (who are more of a metal band because the guitarist is actually a Maiden fan, bro, and that’s just the way this shit goes.)

Actual chorus lyrics: “If you’re feeling small and you can’t draw a crowd, draw dicks on the wall”

Ladies & Gentleman, cover your ears. That is the work of Ben Folds, a 46 year old manchild. If you can’t write a chorus, write about dicks. I’m shocked that he hasn’t tried to fit a rhyme of “fire” and “desire” in there. I don’t even hate the song, that’s the annoying thing. It grows on you (HAHAHA PENIS JOKE) but is this Ben Folds Five or is it a boring band who’d fade into the mist of whocares if they weren’t already famous?

Do It Anyway follows, and it is actually pretty goo- nope, it’s pretty bad, like the rest. But here’s where the funny stuff comes in. Hold That Thought. That’s the title of the song, at least so they tell us, but i’ve given up believing anything these guys tell us. “Ben Folds Five have reformed to make music that sounds like Ben Folds Five“. pff.

What it really is, is a cover song.

Hold That Thought is The Lion Sleeps Tonight under another song title. No, seriously. Do you know that song? IN DA JUNGLE DA MIGHTY JUNGLE. Yeah. Well, this chorus is IT. awoooooooooooooooo. That alone should make this song exempt from rational opinion, so it shall be.

Away When You Were Here is bad too, not just bad in terms of its place on this album, it’s bad because it’s a Ben Folds-solo-ballad that isn’t really a ballad. It’s like a sorrowful, hurting, aching ballad that’s been sped up and now sits somewhere between the Wacky Races and sheer human confusion. And then, finally, we’re at the last track. Except, it’s not really the last track on a Ben Folds Five album. It’s the last track on Songs For Silverman Pt 2. And it’s called…

Thank You For Breaking My Heart.

Ben Folds, thank you for breaking my heart with a solo album that proves one thing:

Reunions never work.

For fans of: Ben Folds

Released 18th September


Neil Young – Americana

Posted on

Genre: Roots, Alt-Country

After the multiple country “comebacks”, the Sonic Youth experiments and the bizarre rockabilly period, you’d be forgiven for thinking Neil Young had accomplished absolutely everything in his 40-something year career.

But that’s where you’d be wrong.

See, having more than earned his right to artistic freedom, what he apparently hasn’t applied his awkward genius to yet are covers of North American folk tales – stories handed down for centuries from grandparents to grandchildren and now, finally, as if it were the apocalypse for these unfortunate songs, they’re all laid out here for Neil Young to destroy one by one.

From the first rumblings of Oh Susannah (which is like walking into a guitar store and hearing a novice trying to impress horribly with Santana’s Evil Ways) you can tell instantly what you’re getting; this isn’t just Neil Young once again denying his moody, melancholic and, ultimately, best side (and it’s not like such incredible records as On The Beach or Tonight’s The Night have been forgotten, he’s proven he can still do it lately with Le Noise); but this is Neil Young’s home demos, made purely so he can laugh at anyone who actually listens to it. It’s all a joke. We have to convince ourselves of this fact before it’s too late.

Clangy and cringyworthy, rough and without reason, this is the voice of Herbert the child molester from Family Guy aging ungracefully as the world around him changes. It’s every kid’s dad picking up a microphone at a wedding with his balding grey hair and proclaiming “BACK IN MY DAY WE KNEW HOW TO ROCK!”. Oh, and he’s brought his “wacky” bar-room drinking buddies Crazy Horse along for the ride too (their first album together since 2003, it’s easy to see why. Can anyone name the last truly-great, classic Crazy Horse album? It was 18 years ago.)

Some may praise its realism, most will find dislike in its beaten-up boxcar approach. Beware of the pretentious views you will likely find rewarding this album for its garage-band sound, for something does not simply turn into Tom Petty once stripped down.

And it’s all here too. God Save The Queen. An endless choir. It’s all here, believe me. God Save The Queen may be the most ear-shatteringly awful attempt on the whole thing. Decide for yourself, but i’m not providing the painkillers after it.

Even if everything possesses salvation somewhere (Americana earns itself one star for the loose honkytonk of Woody Guthrie’s This Land Is Your Land) some things are best left locked up in the vaults and never released publicly, where, in perspective, it would likely sit far away from Mr Young’s true “stripped down” relic, the forgotten Chrome Dreams.

Move to the moon if it’s your only way of avoiding this record and save your money for something more worthwhile, like the bubonic plague.

For fans of: Neil Young & Crazy Horse
Recommended Track: The silence at the end of the album

Released June 5th