Trying to track the twists and turns ofBen Folds’ career is maddening. A North Carolina native, Folds first formed Majosha in the late ’80s, releasing an album called Party Night: Five Songs about Jesus that contained four songs, none of which concerned Jesus. In the early ’90s, he lived in Nashville off a music publishing and session musician job before attending the University of Miami on a percussion scholarship (he dropped out one credit short of graduation to concentrate on piano).
After a year working as an actor in New York City, Folds moved back to the Tar Heel State and formed Ben Folds Five, a trio (go figure) that specialized in what Folds called “punk rock for sissies.” The band broke big on mainstream alt-rock charts in the U.S., the UK, and Australia, becoming famous for its brand of wry, piano-driven pop balladry. But the Five became none circa 2000, when Folds opted to embark on a solo career that veered in 1,000 different directions.
Like what, you say? Collaborating with “Weird Al” Yankovic, Amanda Palmer, Regina Spektor, and Sara Bareilles. Producing, arranging, and co-writing William Shatner’s 2004 tour de force Has Been. Hosting the first live-stream concert-by-request in Myspace history in 2006. Recruiting college a cappella groups to interpret his most popular songs. Joining NBC’s The Sing-Off as a regular judge. Jointly penning an album with British author Nick Hornby (High Fidelity). Becoming a YouTube phenomenon with a set of Chatroulette-skewering videos. And improbably reuniting Ben Folds Five for the excellent 2012 album The Sound of the Life of the Mind.
But it’s his most recent wrinkle that represents Folds’ biggest leap: writing a classical-inspired pop piano concerto in 2013, performing it with as many symphony orchestras on the planet as he could in 2014, and recording an entire album of chamber rock titled So There with esteemed New York City ensemble yMusic in 2015. “I don’t really what know it is I’m trying to do,” Folds laughs during a phone interview with Folio Weekly Magazine. “I’m trying to chase music that means something to me. It’s an incredible challenge to pull off expressing yourself through this medium. And that’s enough to keep me going.”
Folds describes his relationship with yMusic, who’ve also worked with other shape-shifters like Beck, Dirty Projectors, and José González, in terms of long-term familiarity: “They’re basically my brothers and sisters,” he says. “When I was introduced to them, I didn’t look back. I had a new rock band basically.”
The group, who performed a few one-off dates earlier in 2016, is now in the middle of a full-fledged tour that Folds says should expand the horizons of nearly anyone who shows up. “We’re playing some new stuff that we’ve charted, and we’ve created space for a lot of the spontaneous stuff. We have a pretty interesting dynamic when it comes to improvising. But it’s hard to know what to classify it as. We’re drawing new people who haven’t heard of me at all. We’re drawing old fans with whom the new work resonates. We’re drawing people who’ve listened to me forever, think most of my stuff is shit, and are like, ‘Finally, he’s making something good again.’ And all of those people are quite sure they’re the ones who are right.”
At which point, out came the exuberant, gregarious Ben Folds who gave a jaw-dropping interview to Billboard last year: ruminations on insecurity, divorce, infidelity, and alcohol use; exhortations to classical music critics to “jump on a dick” if they didn’t like his technical chops; and an admission that he wanted to “piss in your yard” with his new record. “For many of us, we don’t know the answers in life,” says Folds. “So we want to be told by songwriters or musicians that they get it — that they know how we feel. That’s cathartic, especially if you don’t even know what‘s up in your life. We change so much that we often don’t know ourselves, and we really, really want and need the security of an artist knowing what the answer is.”
But don’t take Ben Folds for an overly serious Debbie Downer, even though he’s made his name singing songs about abortion and addiction — and, now, entering into a thriving classical career. “You can have a dead serious song full of humor,” he says. “But a lot of people want their humor in a comedy song, and then want their music to be serious as shit. If it does both at the same time, like so much of my music, it’s confusing to them.”
FOLIO
Follow FOLIO!