he's been a big deal in these parts for a while. i remember taking my first road trips belting out naked baby pictures and the unauthorized biography. every song seemed to have that special feel for the right moment. maybe i was being an overly dramatic mid-teen but benny folds was a story telling machine.
growing up knowing that i would meet someone like kate(ZSHARE) who always wears the same things, and would move to twin falls with her, was a childhood dream and playful fantasy. i even wrote a college essay "with imagery" from not the same, so that i could get a good "how i found jesus" story. i still need to ask forgiveness a couple times for that one.
any who, of the three amigos, i was the only one to have seen ben folds before he took away his high "five" or since he was doing the jamming solo thing. actually i think other than brick and a couple other songs, i was the only one that listened to him prior to the concert. does this seem like a familiar theme in the festival (fairies and shout)? we staked out our front row seats and awaited the baldwin banging and nonsensical lyrics of drugs and bitchy girlfriends.
the playlist was tossed out just beside us before the show and we caught a glimpse. he didn't follow it very strictly. bitches ain't shit was one of his first songs and moved into effington. however, kate was magical, as she always is. in this same way, army rocked our socks as it does everywhere. every ben folds fan knows the brass interlude created by the division of the audience gives you chills every time. benny hopped up on the piano and went back to his years in percussion school at university of miami before peacing out. conducting us as he had done so many times before. and guess what... i thought about your mommy.
for the finale it was a great buildup. his classic massive chords and elbow banging. he gradually steps away from the piano. guy with the tambourine, still going. bassist still rocking. is mr. folds staring down the piano? umm, what's going on. hits the piano again. he's staring at the piano again. he edges his stool slowly away from the playing area and throws the stool over his head. shaking it feverishly and then catches the beat. you could see him counting off with the bassist and drummer. climax. stool hits piano, perfect traumatic chord. shows over. get food and get ready for matisyahu.