BEN FOLDS AND A PIANO w/ SAVANNAH CONLEY LIVE AT THE SYLVEE MADISON, WI OCTOBER 20, 2019

BEN FOLDS AND A PIANO
with SAVANNAH CONLEY
LIVE
THE SYLVEE
MADISON, WI
OCTOBER 20, 2019

I only have Hilary to thank for seeing a show this tremendous. But first, I have to explain the identity of Hilary.

Almost one year ago, and on a night that was decidedly more frigid than the gorgeous early autumn night of this concert, I stood in line at The Sylvee to witness The Smashing Pumpkins for the very first time. A few paces behind me stood Hilary, someone I did not know at all but someone with whom I would shortly bond with as we gradually froze in place waiting to gain entrance into the venue, and also with whom I would share the evening at the lip of the stage. After that show, we exchanged contact information and we stayed in touch.

Late this Summer, Hilary messaged me to inform me that Ben Folds would be coming to the Sylvee in the Fall and perhaps I would be interested. Seeing Hilary again was a no-brainer as she was a vibrant, enchanting person to spend an evening with at a concert. But to see Ben Folds? Hmmmm...

Now, don't get me wrong. The artistry of Ben Folds in nothing that has ever been lost upon me but it is also one that never really took a particularly strong grasp either. I vividly remember when I first heard Ben Folds Five's single "Underground" in the 1990's upon Madison, WI's then alternative radio station WMAD-FM, and amidst all of the grunge, feedback and attitude was this aggressively melodic, relentlessly jaunty slice of piano driven punk pop that instantly captured my ear. it sounded like NOTHING else happening during that particular time and place in rock music and I immediately wanted more.

Now as good as Ben Folds Five's first two albums were, the self titled debut (released August 8, 1995) and "Whatever And Ever Amen" (released March 18, 1997) respectively, the band did not fully take hold of me until their third album "The Unauthorized Biography Of Reinhold Messner" (released April 27, 1999). That album felt that all of the pieces clicked perfectly into place, showcasing the band at their absolute best...but then, they surprisingly disbanded leaving Folds to go solo.

While I did purchase and thoroughly enjoyed "Fear Of Pop: Volume 1" (released November 17, 1998), his experimental, sonic collage, as well as the outstanding "Rockin' The Suburbs" (released September 11, 2001), his official solo debut, I did begin to lose track of Ben Folds for no other reason than my listening had drifted to other artists and genres. Whenever I would catch sight of his name over the years, I would always smile to myself, thrilled that he was still in the game...even if I was not actively listening to him.

And so...we arrive in the Summer of 2019 with a concert-going decision to make for myself, the answer to which was unquestionable. Go to the show!!!

After a Summer of re-acquainting myself with Ben Folds discography, which included many discoveries of his vast solo material, as well as just finishing A Dream About Lightning Bugs: A Life Of Music And Cheap Lessons, his recently published and excellent memoir, I arrived at The Sylvee on this beautiful Autumn evening, where I was soon greeted by Hilary and soon after our reunion, we entered the theater and claimed our spots (almost identical to where we stood for The Smashing Pumpkins) and waited for the night to begin.

SAVANNAH CONLEY

The night's opening act was stellar and she had me in her artistic grasp from the very first song.

Hailing from Nashville, singer/songwriter/guitarist Savannah Conley held the stage of The Sylvee powerfully, armed with an impressive skill that exceeded many of the opening acts I have seen in my life. However, she did feel to be very much in league with opening acts I have seen in recent years, acts like Cherry Glazerr (who opened for The Flaming Lips) and White Denim (who opened for Tame Impala), artists that are clearly hungry and have obviously performed some serious work in the woodshed, solidifying their abilities with songwriting and performance. 

If she was remotely nervous, not even a stitch of any trepidation showed as Savannah Conley projected a solid confidence with her talents and songs, as she delivered a set of original material that felt to be of a similar lyrical intensity and piercing emotional depth that you would find in Aimee Mann's songs and emoted with a striking voice that made me imagine someone like Jewel merged with a young Dolly Parton.  The control she exuded as her voice remained rock steady yet would often careen into aching wails, that trailed eerily into the distance, echoing in your brain long after she emitted them.

For all of the wrenching elements in her music, Savannah Conley also exhibited a superior gift with her on-stage/between song banter, which, also like Aimee Mann (if you have ever seen her perform live), was surprising in its laugh-out-loud humor and also, like what we were about to witness with Ben Folds, she certainly has a swift, elegance with perfectly peppered profanities!

Before I knew it, Conley had completed her opening set and to that, I can only give her my highest compliment, I wasn't ready for her to leave the stage. She left me wanting for more.

To the strains of Harry Nilsson's "One," Ben Folds entered the stage and began his solo performance, which as advertised, was exactly just him and a piano. No band, extra musicians or surprise guests but an evening that was simultaneously intimate and grandiose in its flawless execution and especially enormous communal experience.

Bespectacled, bearded and appearing as if he just completed the week's TA responsibilities at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, Ben Folds took to his piano and delivered a two hour performance that felt very much like what I experienced when I saw a solo performance by Lindsey Buckingham at Madison's Barrymore Theater years ago, which was a MASTER CLASS in how to sculpt a performance without the aid of any pyrotechnics or additional musicians.

Beautifully paced and richly showcasing the breadth of his career thus far via his exemplary (and often hilariously profane) storytelling, first rate songwriting and singing would be great enough. But of course, we were all graced with the sheer excellence of his skills at the piano. In fact, as I regarded him throughout, I was often in gobsmacked amazement with what I was witnessing as his superlative skills demonstrated how he was not only at one with his instrument, he undeniably demonstrated the uncanny difference between people who play the piano and those who can be considered pianists and believe me, especially if you have not had the opportunity to witness him for yourselves, Ben Folds is unquestionably a pianist!

As he performed, Ben Folds utilized the piano in ways that nearly made me hear the instrument wholly anew. Yes, indeed, I could hear flashes of Keith Emerson, Jelly Roll Morton, Vince Guaraldi, Keith Jarrett, and definitely Elton John in his playing, from all manner of phrasings and flourishes. But it was in the way he combined a universe of styles and genres so seemingly effortlessly that often left me in awe.

How was it possible to possess the skill to flow from classical to jazz to rock to funk to vaudeville to cartoon scores to punk rock to Broadway styled showtunes and there and back again and further and beyond? How was it possible to shift gears on a dime and to never get ahead of himself or lose the audience in the process? How could he make the piano sound like claps of thunder one moment and then the most crystalline cascades of falling water the very next moment? Ben Folds brilliantly found ways to re-invent his chosen instrument again and again and again through his wondrously composed wealth of material all the while presenting himself within a down-to-Earth demeanor that suggested that he was as approachable as any of your favorite college friends.

It was indeed that very dichotomy of artistic genius by way of the best barroom buddy you could ask for that fully endeared Folds to the entire audience as he created an evening of completely idiosyncratic and often stunning music. From the orchestral leaning show opener "Capable Of Anything" and the Rogers and Hammerstein flavored "Effington," to the lounge piano blues of "Silver Street," the pensive, introspective pop of "Landed" and "Jesusland," meticulously observed short stories and character portraits in "Annie Waits," "Steven's Last Night In Town," "Fred Jones Part 2," "Zak and Sara," "The Ascent Of Stan" and "Alice Childress," and so much more, the evening was a vibrant refresher course and indisputable testament to the Ben Folds catalog, as it reminded me about what a monstrous talent Folds actually is and therefore, how much I had missed him in all of the years that I had not been actively listening to his music.

He is truly cut from a similar cloth as perhaps someone like Frank Zappa as Folds contains the rebellious engagement and ability to encompass a morass of musical neighborhoods--complete with a gleeful and unrepentant vulgarity--to forge his own singular musical universe and identity. And even so, he is warmly inviting as his skills as a storyteller provided copious amounts of humor and insights into his creative process and songs, for instance, a story about a cell phone he tossed into a swimming pool which was then ultimately rescued for him by none other than Kesha led into a performance of "Phone In A Pool."

In fact, having just recently finished reading his memoir, the show also provided an enhancement to the stories he had shared in his literary narrative.  For example, the period in which Folds was under a songwriting contract and found himself in the position of having to compose a ridiculous 4.6 (?!) amount of songs in order to be released from said contract, provided the evening with performances of "One Down," plus "Girl," another of the eventually written-under-duress songs, this time intended for a boy band as well as a third, and hysterically nasty song entitled "The Secret Life Of Morgan Davis," to which Folds proclaimed, "I wrote it. You listened to it. You applauded it, so we're in this together!!"

Yet for me, what truly sent the night even further over the top was the participation of the audience and Ben Folds' involvement and even his reaction to said participation. To re-create horn parts and/or the intricate vocal harmonies from the studio recordings, Folds would conduct the audience, assigning specific vocal parts to specific areas of the audience, and the results were just astounding.

From there, the audience worked spontaneously.

We all sang together on Folds' timeless love song standard "The Luckiest," but even more gorgeously were the selections where the audience magically arrived with full lyrics, multi-layered harmonies, hand claps, and vocal smacks right on time every single time, causing at one point an honestly delighted and impressed Folds to utter a fully bemused "Damn!" before singing his next line.

It was at that point where the show became an exquisite version of a symbiotic experience occurring in real time. You could completely feel how deeply Folds had inspired the audience, which in turn inspired him. In doing so, we all hit a crescendo together, which arrived at show's end in which a drum set was built around Folds, who then performed a blinding and brilliant drum solo which even then led into the encore, a performance of "Army" complete with full audience participation with those aforementioned harmony vocals and horn section lines.

Once Ben Folds exited the stage to the strains of Eric Carmen's "All By Myself" and our rapturous applause, Hilary and I marveled at the night, each of us wishing that we knew Folds' material even better so that we could have joined in the singing more often!

Sometimes with live performances, we need to have the sense of spectacle. And sometimes, the spectacle is the performance itself. No costumes. No special effects or other visual accouterments. Ben Folds, with solely his trusty piano, held the entirely of The Sylvee enraptured with songs, storied, wit, warmth and graciousness. It was a privilege to be in attendance.

And thank you, Hilary for without you, your enthusiasm and invitation, I otherwise never would have been there. 

all text and photos (other than concert poster image) copyright 2019 Scott Collins