He’s definitely rockin’ the suburbs, or at least suburban kids in Hartford. Ben Folds has taken latest solo effort, “Rockin’ the Suburbs” out on the road and stopped by the Webster for an enigmatic performance. Folds’ venture without his seminal band, Ben Folds Five, was open to its skeptics; I was one as well. The performance however was enough to sway any of the doubtful.
This was a diverse audience to say the least. Among the crowd were 40-something couples, the pre-pubescent, the hippies, and the frat boys. While seemingly different, not one person in the packed house could resist singing or dancing to Ben Folds’ energetic set.
First up for the night was Clem Snide, actually, half of Clem Snide. Singer Eef Barzelay accompanied by a cellist started off the evening of story telling, nostalgic indie rock. The audience was taken by the two-man set, but was still anxious to get what they were waiting for, Folds. The chanting of “BEN FOLDS” before his set was enough to substantiate that.
Folds came on stage an average man and left a rock icon this night. He, his bassist Millard, guitarist Snuzz, and drummer Jim came out and proved “that a producer with computer does not fix all his shitty tracks”. The band was positively flawless, they were eloquent and fun, and Folds also did not take center stage as the “solo artist” with them. Having not yet owned the record I was preparing to hear the songs for the first time, but I found myself nonetheless singing along having not heard a single track before. I was taken by the elegance of songs like “Still Fighting It” and “Fred Jones Part II”, perfectly structured pop-tales of the passage of time. The roof came off the Webster during “Still Fighting It’, Folds’ tribute to his twins. With a chorus that goes; “Everybody knows, it hurts to grow up, and everybody does. It's so weird to be back here. Let me tell you what, the years go on and we're still fighting it, we're still fighting it and you're so much like me, I'm sorry”. The audience, though of different generations, could all relate to this. “Fred Jones” is a reflective ballad of a man looking back on his career at a newspaper. There is an element of pure American storytelling in Folds, especially in this song; “Yeah, and all of these bastards have taken his place. He's forgotten but not yet gone. And I'm sorry, Mr. Jones”. Folds takes no prisoners, he openly jokes that he takes the audience’s pain and sells it back to them.
There is also a humorous side to this simple man. Toward the end of his set while trying to play the Ben Folds Five track, “Boxing”, he relays to a story from a stop in England where the audience would not shut up during the song, his threat was either he got to finish it, or he would play 15 minutes of the intro to “Brick”. He almost could not get through “Boxing” after the story as he had even made himself giddy at that stage.
The highlight of the night was definitely the raucous performance of the album’s title track, “Rockin’ the Suburbs”. Folds armed himself with his Roland “strap on” keyboard, turned his cap backwards and cut loose. He took no prisoners during this part of the set, climbing atop his piano and teasing the crowd with a striptease. I never thought that Folds had this wild side to him, but he and his band apparently do.
The encore was more like a mini-set in which he brought back BF5 crowd pleasers like “Song for the Dumped” and “One Angry Dwarf and 200 Solemn faces”. Folds tore the roof off of the Webster that night. I go to may concerts, at least one a week, and I honestly have not left one that impressed...ever! The lighting was just right, the crowd was engaged and I was actually enjoying myself. Folds is a just a simple Southern man, but he is one of the best entertainers I have encountered in a long time. I went out and bought the new record as soon as I had the money and haven’t stopped listening to it. If Ben Folds comes around here again, or if anyone has the chance to go and catch his live show, do it. Do it for yourself.
