|
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
Product Details
Would you like to update product info or give feedback on images? |
The pop hubris of "Annie Waits", handclaps and all- a Billy-Joel-sounding anthem that finds Annie waiting for a friend who, like Godot, never shows.
The up-tempo exuberance of "Zak and Sara"- two madcap hippies who revel in each others musical adventures and their own uniqueness (Zak spelled without a "c" and Sara spelled without an "h"), taking everyone else along for the fun ride
The wisdom of "Still Fighting It", harking back to some of the Beach Boys' most earnest hymns, as a father describes to his son what he will someday feel like to fly away on his own and fight the inevitable sadness of growing old
The 6/8 tempo of "Gone"- with a triumphant flick of the middle finger from the one who was dumped
The emptiness of "Fred Jones Part 2" and what it must feel like to retire, realizing you have to face yourself even more than when you could hide in the comfortable everyday activity of a regular job
The flowing keyboard lines and soaring melodies in "The Ascent of Stan", a tale of the inevitable cop-out of a former hippie who joins the echelon of the institution and finds out why his father was once such a resigned man
The steady bounce and happy melancholy of "Losing Lisa" with its personal reaffirmation of letting go with pride
The wistful waltz of "Carrying Cathy"- the sad recollections of a dear friend after pall-bearing at her funeral, realizing someone was "always carrying Cathy" until her tragic fall to death
The steady bounce of "Not the Same"- the trials and tribulations of a clergyman hanging onto the "one good trick" he uses to help people with their problems
The uninhibited nod to the bass line of Lou Reed's Walk on The Wild Side in "Rockin' The Suburbs"- replete with Weird Al lyrics that mock the white middle-class suburbanites who try to be cool, but not without plenty of self deprecation in lines like "I'm rockin the suburbs just like Michael Jackson did...except that he was talented" and "some producer with computers fixes all my sh...y tracks"
The vaudevillian up-tempo "Fired" with its major seventh chords that seem to tap on the shoulder of the guy who wants to walk away after discovering that "everybody here was fired" and shouting it out to a Motown tempo
The beautiful balladry of "The Luckiest" which, like Big Star's "Blue Moon", borrows the cascading lines and chord progressions of Pachabel's Cannon to express the comfort and fortune we feel to be in the company of loved ones- and the urgency we should feel in letting them know how much they're appreciated before these short lifetimes are over.
Then, just as the album ends, Folds proclaims himself the luckiest, takes a deep breath, and exits stage left...
Good morning, son, you are indeed a bird, flying higher than you've ever done before...
When Ben Folds' solo release came out, I was tempted to buy it, but put it off because I was worried some of the jokey stuff would still be there. After hearing a few songs off the CD, I just went ahead and got it. All I can say is "WOW". This is one of my favorite CDs of the year. There's still a lot of wit to it, but the lyrics are more provocative, and the songs a little more serious. "The Luckiest" is one of the most beautiful songs ever written. "The Ascent of Stan", "Annie Waits", and "Fred Jones" are probably my other favorites on the CD.
If you are putting off buying this CD because you don't like BFF, don't hesitate. I know there are a lot of huge BFF fans out there, and that's great, but I like Folds' solo stuff *much* better. I can't wait to hear what he puts out next.
Anyway, if you liked songs like "Mess" from Messner and "Brick" from Whatever and Ever you'll really enjoy this album. If you pick it up hoping for "Song for the Dumped" or "Army" style wackiness, you might as well just get the single. Overall a fantastic effort on Folds' part if you ask me, but be aware of what you're in for.
|