Diary of an up and coming sociopath

• I bought Street Fighter 2 Turbo HD Remix with my virtual xbox money-points. Talk about a game that never gets old. #

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• I’m going out of my mind waiting to see Ben Folds on Sunday. SERIOUSLY. Why isn’t it Sunday now? #

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• I just watched the new Star Trek trailer. I think I’m actually going to cry. #

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• Today I shelled out £100 to fix my car’s heating. That’s £700 of repairs in two years. On the plus side, petrol’s back under £1/litre! #

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Because NO-ONE demanded it! An entire post’s worth of waffling about Ben Folds’ latest album, written when I should’ve been doing something that pays! Now, we all know writing about music is often a pointless endeavour unless you’re especially gifted for it (which I’m not) so I’m going to disclose this entry by saying that I’m mainly writing it to try and get the thoughts out of my head. I’ve been going over and over this album for weeks now, trying to figure it out. Hopefully this’ll let me finally exorcise the demons.

Whatever you think of Ben Folds, he’s one of those artists that virtually gets a free pass from me for having written one of those albums that accidentally defines your life in the period you hear it. To this day, The Unauthorised Biography of Reinhold Messnerremains one of my favourite albums, and is one of the 4 discs with a permanent place in the 5-disc changer of our stereo. That’s the benchmark for all new Ben Folds releases. Nothing has lived up to it yet, and it’s hard to think it ever will, but them’s the breaks. Even with that impossibly high standard to live up to, I’ve enjoyed Ben’s work since. Rockin’ the Suburbs, I loved. Songs for Silverman took a while for me to get into, and in retrospect, while I love a couple of the songs to death, most of the album is a bit too morose even for me. SuperSunnySpeedGraphic was just about better than the sum of its parts.

Now, if Songs for Silverman was too morose, then Way to Normal is almost the antithesis of that. Musically, it’s up there with his best, and when I see the songs live in November I’m certain they’re going to be fantastic. However, stripped of the atmosphere and laid down on CD, I’m left with no choice but to focus on the content, rather than the potential performances. And I’m finding it a little lacking.

The album opens with Hiroshima. I don’t even know where to begin with this one. In the past, Folds has had an entertaining sideline in funnier-than-usual novelty B-Sides - but I have no idea how one ended up opening the album. It’s musically and lyrically simplistic, and once you’ve heard it once there’s no substance left. Usually, albums trail off towards the end. This might be the first time I’ve had an album that actually starts at what is almost its worst moment and generally gets better towards the end. A prime example of one of those songs that’ll be incredibly energetic live, but on a record, I genuinely fail to see the point of it.

Dr. Yang is stronger. I’m not fond of it, but I can appreciate that its effects-heavy sound is at least an experimental move for Folds. For a songwriter with his credentials, though, it feels a little like it’s missing the point to be unable to hear the lyrics the bulk of the time, though…

The Frown Song is the first song that really grabs me. It’s got all the white, suburban angst of his solo output and a great tune to go along with it. The relentlessly ironic verses are defused by the chorus and BFF-style backing vocals. It could fit on almost any of his albums, and I do mean that in a good way.

Regina Spektor’s appearance on You Don’t Know Me is probably what makes it the album’s best moment. The vocal performances practically spark off one another, and the stripped-down music leaves the singing to speak for itself, which it does so brilliantly. As close to faultless as this album gets.

Before Cologne/Cologne is the first time on this album that Folds’ gift for piano melodies gets a real look in. I’m partial to any Folds songs where the facade drops and he allows himself to be directly sincere. It’s a traditional Ben Folds “failed relationship” song in the tradition of Smoke/Don’t Change Your Plans et al and those are usually my favourites. It won’t be for everyone, but it’s probably my favourite track.

And sadly, it’s followed up with my least favourite. I can’t engage with Errant Dog on any level. It sounds like it was written and recorded in one day, which is funny because it’s worse than the “fake” Way to Normal tracks which practically were written and recorded in one day. His most redneck song since Rent a Cop.

Free Coffee is the point where you start to realise that the album contains almost nothing but bile, directed at everyone. Earlier in the album, he’s admonishing the people who sneer at teenage baristas. Now he’s the one doing it. No-one is safe from his acid mind. It’s got a unique sound to begin with, but by the end it peters out into improv jazz, and I really don’t know what to make of that. I actually preferred the “fake” version of this, which was retroactively named “Free Coffee Town”.

There’s then a dubious spoken-word interlude, which serves as a lead in to Bitch Went Nuts. The one song on the album where his musical energy and lyrical quirks come together as they should. Fun on the record, and you know it’ll be great live. The sentiments are fairly adolescent, but it’s a valid artistic route if nothing else. He’s done relationship nuance often enough that I’m satisfied it’s done on purpose.

Brainwascht has a great pounding tune, and a backstory that makes it enjoyable. It’s a response to a song written about him by some former friends (current theories suggests Fleming and John’s I was wrong as the likely target) and it’s the one point on the album where the vitriol really works, because for once it does feel justified.

Effington is something of a sequel to Songs for Silverman’s “Jesusland” in the “road trip through suburban America” sense. It’s upbeat and meandering. Not perfect, but good. Perhaps relies a little too strongly on the “effing” pun, but we’ve seen worse.

The final song on the album is Kylie from Connecticut, and it’s another of those character-study songs that I enjoy, about regrets and the pragmatic acceptance that some things can’t be changed. I’m thinking of Fred Jones Pt. 2 and Annie Waits for you Rockin’ the Suburbs fans. The most brutally honest track on the album, full of lyrical kicks in the gut. Leaves me wishing it could all be that sincere.

Despite the bad tracks, there are still 7 songs that I really like on this album. That’s a good ratio. The problem, as I see it, is that it doesn’t feel like an album in the coherent, creative sense - just a collection of songs, if you can see what I mean. To me, that represents a step backwards. Maybe that’s why I’m finding it hard to enjoy, despite the high number of songs I do actually like. I’m fairly certain, anyway. I’ll probably have to wait for superior music critics to explain it to me.