Jen Clay
Staff Writer
With the breakup of his three-piece band, Ben Folds Five in 2000, Ben Folds boldly stated “nobody gives a s— about piano rock.” Four years, a pseudo-feud with Korn, a Ben Folds solo album, a solo-live album and a few extended players later, music fans (presumably) still don’t care about piano rock. But they certainly turned out in droves to Ben Folds’ Friday night guest-heavy set at the El Rey.
In the second of two sold-out shows at the venue, the singer-pianist played a wide range of material with and without the accompaniment of a bassist and drummer, all the while attempting to shrug the self-proclaimed tightness out of his denim button-up. And when he tired of his own material, Folds broke out the electric keyboard to accompany a several-song, spoken-word set from who else but novelty music aficionado and Folds’ collaborator William Shatner (joined onstage by British composer-artist Joe Jackson and former Black-Flag frontman Henry Rollins). But little did the sometimes nervous Folds know, he carried it all.
Folds’ take on the Cure’s “In Between Days” started his set, which showcased a sprinkling of new tunes, Ben Folds Five material, and Folds’ solo work. Highlights of Folds’ hour-and-a-half portion included “Sunny 16’s” expletive-laden ode to selfish Americans “All You Can Eat,” the waltz-y, bare and rare “Boxing” and the literally and figuratively resonant “There’s Always Someone Cooler Than You.”
For “Where’s Summer B?,” Folds switched gears, directing the audience in two-part harmony. Apparently impressed with the results, Folds revisited the choir-director role in “Not the Same,” this time graduating his audience-singers to three-parts. Folds, who at the beginning of the set appeared uneasy and shy (after all, Bob Saget was in the audience), now threw caution to the curb as he stood atop his piano and authoritatively conducted his disciples in Mickey-Mouse-as-the-sorcerer-in-“Fantasia” mode.
As if Folds’ combination of nervousness and confident showmanship weren’t enough of a paradox, Folds’ live show proves he is an all-around musical contradiction. Unable to decide whether to walk through life with rose-colored glasses (“Gracie Girl” is for his daughter) or use caustic, honest humor to claw his way through (“Rockin’ the Suburbs” sample lyric: “Ya’ll don’t know what it’s like, being male, middle-class and white”), Folds unapologetically and without abandon mixes the two.
Folds’ growing-stronger-by-the-day vocals (as compared with those on his former band’s 1995 self-titled disc) bring a newfound maturity and levity to a question fans hope Folds will continue to musically answer over time.
As for Shatner’s set (the Priceline.com spokesman recently released his very entertaining Folds-arranged, spoken-word album “Has Been”), only a particularly rousing, if interesting, “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” encore added any bang to the audience’s musical buck. While cementing the show as a lineup to be reckoned with in musical history, it also gently coated the memory of Shatner’s infamous 1968 “Lucy” cover with a healthy helping of “I-survived-it” attitude. By show’s end, the humorous but repetitive six-track run from the red-eyed, Shatner had innocently, if just a little indulgently, outlived its live-show welcome.
But if the promise of future Folds’ shows means we must honorably suffer through Mr. Shatner’s untranslatable live show, count us in. Folds musical ear candy has never resonated more sweetly, nor left such a pronouncedly pleasant aftertaste, than it does these days.
10-28-2004
