Monday, September 17, 2012

If You Can't Draw a Crowd...

I might as well have given birth to Ben Folds, because in my eyes he can do no wrong. I love every piece of music he has ever put out, unconditionally. And if Ben Folds is my would-be child (I know, shit's getting weird... stick with me here) then Ben Folds Five is my refrigerator full of my kid's artwork. I love every piece equally and beyond measure.

The album's second track, Michael Praytor, opens up with that unmistakable BF5 harmony that took me right back to my high school days in the same way that certain smells have the ability to transport you back in time. I found myself cranking up the volume and singing [screaming] along even though I had yet to know the words. This is classic Ben Folds Five, people. It reminded me why I fell in love with them in the first place.

If Michael Praytor reminded me why I fell in love, Draw a Crowd reminded me why I stay in love. I loved this song in three notes. In the past week, I've listened to this song no less than 50 times, maybe or maybe not in a row. In fact, my new favorite song lyric in the whole world is now, "If you can't draw a crowd, draw dicks on the wall." In the past, Mr. F has remarked that Ben Folds/Five songs are about nothing. That comment stuck with me. Draw a Crowd might seem silly at first listen, but at its core, it's obviously not about dick graffiti. It's just an awesome way of saying, "Appreciate what you're good at." And Ben, if you're listening [you're not but let's pretend], you've always been my Stevie Wonder.

This is when it all came together for me. Hearing this album for the first time was like hanging out with an old friend. Not like a Michael Praytor, who if you listen to the song (and you should), you'll find out is one of those people who you just keep randomly running into that you don't really care about seeing, but for some reason you keep crossing paths at various stages of life. Also not at all like that one chick who was completely nuts in high school, but you somehow forgot about how nuts she was and you decided to hang out with her anyway after getting in touch with her on Facebook and then finding out all over again how incredibly insane she is and wondering how it could be possible that you could forget that much crazy. And also considering joining the witness protection program because she now knows your address. Not like that completely autobiographical story at all. It's more like running into an old friend who you haven't seen for whatever reason, and actually DOING LUNCH instead of just saying you will, and actually meaning it when you say you're so happy you got in touch and agreeing to hang out more.

And then this happened:

Stick a fork in me. I'm done. I'm not sure it's possible that I could love this band any more than I do right now.

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