The Complete Kismet Acoustic - Jesca Hoop

Track list:

1. Silverscreen
2. Summertime
3. Out the Back Door
4. Seed of Wonder
5. Enemy
6. Love Is All We Have
7. Intelligentactile101
8. Havoc in Heaven
9. Reves dans le creux
10. Money
11. Love and Love Again
12. Paradise
13. Worried Mind

Running time: 56 minutes
Released: 2012

I don't recall what got me into Jesca Hoop. I mean, I remember that it was Undress, but not the whys of picking up that album. I loved it though, and still do, although to be fair my epiphany wasn't that long ago... maybe 2 years tops? It wasn't until late last year I got around to ordering more older material though, including this one; I haven't received the physical disc yet - sourcing is apparently an issue - but the digital auto-rip will do!  It is a first listen for me too... digital buys not usually getting dedicated play when they are grabbed.

The opening guitar is not quite what I was expecting... a touch classical. The vocal reminds me of Lisa Hannigan, and someone else I cannot immediately place, in its tone, breathy and close. When the chorus hits, it is more reminiscent of the Jesca Hoop tunes that first engaged me, and overall its a gentle start, but Silverscreen feels like it goes on too long at least twice; it fakes an end then finds a continuation.

I am hoping this listen will put an end to my listlessness. The past few evenings, and all day today (it's Saturday) I have done nothing of note, not feeling like I want to do anything. Brain won't countenance thinky things, body (and the woeful winter weather) not supporting ideas of doing anything more active. I pine for what Hoop is singing about now... summer; I would take spring. I dislike the dark, I care not for the cold.

So far there hasn't been any of the really cool use of rhythm that sold Undress to me utterly. Instead these seem more traditional songs, less creative, less sure. The guitar has a nice snap to it, and there is a lively beat to Out the Back Door, but it feels... young? Uncertain, following more than leading... this tune is a step up from the first two though in terms of more than a passing interest. Hoop's voice here is light, also reinforcing the feeling of youth - though I'm pretty sure she was not that young when this was recorded.

I start to hear some themes and tells that tie this to the other material I am familiar with. Nice use of lyrics outside of traditional line structures, for instance, was one of the features that made me fall in thrall of Hoop's songs, and her vocal style really supports this approach, apparent sharp short breaths punctuating long stretches with constant vocal, hold-overs with long notes as the tune catches up. I like the way it draws my ear in, I like the way it stands out, and the sense of falling forward, onward ever after.

I have had an odd start to the year one way or another, and I feel a little all at sea with 2018. I have been finding it hard to focus my mind right outside of work, which has eaten up the odd evening too. Sleep has been hard to come by, waking early regardless of what time I bed down, not wanting to crawl out into cold mornings. I have been more or less constantly tired... except when I was ill, when I felt sparkier than I had been for a while. Life is odd, as I say. I am finding this album soothing and a little soporific. I don't mean that it is boring me, but that it is relaxing. The single guitar is clear and tuneful, but also soft and repetitive. The lone female voice not always urgent... those long lines absent from some songs, lapsing into repeated choruses.

Looking down the track list at the start of this listen - which is a nice break from "Complete" works - I had hopes for Intelligentactile101. Based on the name alone I figured this would be one of the less conventional tracks. There is a child-like aspect to it, a playfulness to the simple melody. That said it also feels a little underdone, like the structure really needed a bit more (most noticeably percussion) to make it work. I suspect I might prefer the original version. Like Undress, The Complete Kismet Acoustic is a re-take of another album. I don't (currently) own Kismet but I think its fair to say that I will soon. I didn't own Hunting My Dress first either.

This line here to break up the sadly uniform paragraph structures.

Sad that I had to do that, but I haven't been flowing with ideas for short, snappy insights relating to the music. It feels like I have been listening to this for a very long time, but I am only just over half way through. I think this is probably more a statement on how restless and unsettled I have been feeling more than a stick to beat the album with though. Anyone who has read one of these posts before will be aware that I am never keen to over-criticise first listens - not that those people exist.

Ooh, Hoop has gone for French. I think I have another version of Reves dans le Creux on another disc, I vaguely remember having to rip it from physical media. Yeah. Snowglobe. I really like the effect that songs in foreign tongues can elicit, I am reminded of Julie Fowlis' Gaelic, or Regina Spektor lapsing into Russian. I don't think its pure exoticism, I think it is more the change up.

Money has more to it, there is a little more instrumentation here, another layer, and more interest as a result. This has the air of a track that could grow into a favourite, even if at the same time it seems to flout the premise (I doubt that all these extra sounds are acoustic). There is a hint here of the playing with rhythm that sucks me in every time I hear the undressed version of Tulip, for example. It's not as pronounced here, but there's a cool to it all the same.

As the music falls back into a more sparse and less immediately engaging pattern, I find myself thinking this doesn't really work as an album. Tonally something like Money, but to a lesser extent things like Out the Back Door and Intelligentactile101 too, don't sit well alongside noodle-y little songs over classical-style guitar sounds. I find myself wondering whether the same applies to the non-acoustic original. I will be able to hear in due course.

Canon (Disc 2) - Ani DiFranco

Track list:

1. Hello Birmingham
2. This Box Contains
3. Grey
4. Prison Prism
5. Marrow
6. Here For Now
7. Subdivision
8. Rain Check
9. Swim
10. Paradigm
11. Manhole
12. Studying Stones
13. Hypnotized
14. 78% H2O
15. Millenium Theater
16. Your Next Bold Move
17. Both Hands
18. Overlap

Running time: 68 minutes
Released: 2007

Part 2 of the DiFranco-athon. The first disc was long; this is barely shorter. How does it compare?

In truth, comparison is rendered difficult by the time I have let slip by between these discs, accentuated by two purchases (and two more that came yesterday that I am overlooking) that would force their way in by virtue of title. I am forcing this in, looking at it when I don't really feel like it, to make up for the ultra-lite month I have managed. Oh, and with a dodgy back today; early experiments with weights gone wrong I think. Yay.

All this means that my frame of mind is perhaps not one to be forgiving. Hello Birmingham is boring me, and yet is also magnetic somehow. Slow, plodding, but using a nice little phrasing, and a compelling vocal approach, breathy and tense. As it builds I find myself really liking the song and unable to really put my finger on why. We are then treated to an intro. This disc seems to waver between 5 minute epics and short nothings to begin with.

The most I have to say about Grey to begin with is that I am astonished it is spelled with an e; I thought yanks used gray. Hardly a compelling thought, eh? I shouldn't be so tired, I worked from home, I got up late, I've not left the house today... sleep has been hard to come by of late, though this slow number feels like it brings it a little closer.  It has none of the grab of Hello Birmingham, none of the vitality hidden behind the outward slow, low number. This is morose, sparse and dull instead. The vocal has no energy and the arrangement offers none of the secret interest. That it drifts on for 5 minutes is interminable.

Another short interlude, then. Prison Prism comes in at 1.34 and offers nothing for that. The final peak on the long-short-long ride is Marrow, then we hit a bank of more usual length tunes. Marrow opens promisingly, though it is perhaps still too slow and soft to sustain that positive impression. Here there is some intent back in the singing, some bite again. The wandering tunes that weave quietly behind DiFranco's whispers are intriguing, offsetting her vocal and drawing enough of the ear to turn the head.  The song falls down a little around the 3 minute mark as the accompaniment goes all light entertainment / 70s TV soundtrack in nature which throws the sense of the track a little. It more or less wrests back some sense of coherence and interest, through force of frontwoman more than anything, but what was really promising is now just alright.

Oh, now... that is an interesting bassline, punchy, different energy. Unfortunately the song that goes with it is gimmicky and all over the place and the arrangement does not really fit for me. The fast, staccato delivery of the lyrics, with two voices barking them out in imperfect concert through the verses does not impress, and I find myself really disliking the song despite the promise of the first few bars. I get the sense DiFranco experimented a fair bit with different sounds, something I admire, but that for me her style suits the predominant theme of hushed but harsh words and simple(ish) guitar parts to season. As this model is in evidence again on Subdivision, I find myself enjoying the song.

I really need to get next door and get hold of the landlord's number. The damp is getting worse and I now have the plumber's report to go with the structural folks one that confirms the problem isn't my side. I find the idea off-putting, but I need to get past that, and the constant tiredness and just get it done so that the root cause can be addressed, then the symptoms redressed. I deviate from the point because DiFranco seems to be spending a track pratting about on nothing of interest. Every even numbered track has been a miss in one way or another - will that last the disc?

Swim is more messing around as the tune wanders all over the place, along with the vocal. Some of the points it hits are really nice and interesting but others are not and I find it walks just the wrong side of playing with pacing and expectation for me. She sounds young on this song though - I have no idea if it was an early one, but it certainly feels like it. Geez, that is only just halfway. At least the missing evens streak is broken - or should be. There is a nicely patterned riff supporting Paradigm and here the vocal works better too. It is the punchy nature of the guitar playing that captures the interest though. There isn't much else involved, subtle lines weave in as we go and build to a fuller sound, but it never overshadows that first riff that holds the heart of the song.

In some ways this is really frustrating; there are songs here that show Ani DiFranco to be hugely talented and interesting. There are also plenty of tracks that are just plain dull, duds. For me that sort of wavering between brilliance and boredom is almost worse than sheer mediocrity - at least I can just switch off from the latter. That said, the hit-and-miss nature has never put me off other artists who when they are really good are great, building up enough credit to overlook the lapses. Regina Spektor is the queen in this regard; waiting on her latest. Whilst my thoughts roam, DiFranco has pulled out two in a row that I rather like for the first time on disc 2.

A more sombre tone and a fair 30+ seconds before the singing starts means that Studying Stones has a different feel to what has gone before. That sort of returns to expectation once the vocal gets going, but the arrangement maintains a stately nature that sets it a little apart. I really like the change of tone, and especially how the voice contains some traces of hope or happiness that contrast the rather downbeat nature of the arrangement. This works all the better because the music is given plenty of space to stand alone at top and tail of the song. Do like. I am not so sure about what follows. It has a certain something to it, but it is so minimal that I am not sure I would ever want to listen to it again - its the kind of track you would always skip over, which isn't much of a description but its all I have, especially as the track is now gone, along with most of the one after, which has a bit more to it but I find myself disengaged despite a nice bouncy tone to the guitar which I rather like.

Its funny how we can be fickle. There is no small part of me that thinks culling tracks is a bit silly because music is so mood dependent. Ultimately I am not going to get rid of anything I am both happy and familiar with; its the lesser listened stuff that is at risk and doesn't that just risk ossifying my position to what I already know? OK, with the scale of the number of tracks we're talking about ossification is not really that limiting, but there's always a new take on old goods based on mood, moment and so on. Context matters with music, and not a little bit. Still, I don't have to make cuts if I don't want to. It's my choice, my risk, my loss.

Into the final three tracks. These all have [New Version] appended to the name in my player, not that that means anything to me since I wasn't familiar with the old ones. I guess they come with a maturity of performance and performer, so I should perhaps be grateful for that, but Your Next Bold Move does not really sell that viewpoint. I can see there is a decent song in there somewhere, but it somehow still falls flat. Maybe I would have been better off with the older, rawer take. I guess I will never know because although there have been some pretty good tracks to pick out over these two discs I remain unconvinced overall of how well DiFranco's music suits me. The thing with Spektor is that her on moments are so right up my street that the off moments are the blip. Here it is much more of a toss-up as to whether it is the songs I like, or the ones I don't, that best reflect the performer.

Far from all bad, but I won't be going to uncover the Ani DiFranco back-catalog anytime soon.

...

I concluded the post too early! There is still a track and a bit to go. Both Hands is perky, flirty and reminds me in some ways of early Thea Gilmore. This is a good thing. I am not sure I really like the song, or the tune with it, but it made me feel positive and that is worth giving it another chance at least. The final number is also pretty neat. A much more musical, rounded, sound to the arrangement, lusher than most of those I have heard over the past hour, makes this tick. It doesn't overshadow the vocal approach but supports it in a more complete way than some of what went before. I find myself really liking this and feeling like the listen ended on a high. Right up until there are weird bells closing out the track.

That is that for September in all likelihood; an output of 4 posts is bunk. Must do better.

The Best Imitation of Myself (Disc 1) - Ben Folds

Track list:

1. Brick (Radio Mix) - Ben Folds Five
2. Annie Waits
3. Philosophy - Ben Folds Five
4. Underground - Ben Folds Five
5. Landed (Strings Version)
6. One Angry Dwarf and 200 Solemn Faces - Ben Folds Five
7. Don't Change Your Plans - Ben Folds Five
8. The Luckiest
9. Smoke
10. Rockin' the Suburbs
11. Kate - Ben Folds Five
12. Gracie
13. Still Fighting It
14. You Don't Know Me
15. There's Always Someone Cooler Than You
16. Still
17. From Above
18. House - Ben Folds Five

Running time: 74 minutes
Released: 2011

I needn't have worried about overdosing on Ben Folds (Five) as it turned out. Not only have three new purchases sneaked into the gap and extended the distance since I listened to the last little glut, but that is now already a month ago because I have been so unusually busy as to not get down to listening much in the interim. Now, though, we have the three discs of Folds' retrospective, packed with items from the breadth of his career, some phases stronger than others. I forget how they were organised but I think this first disc was the best of, the second disc was live recordings and the third was rarities. There will be some duplicates to cull here but that wont be everything. The disc is notably the only place I have two tracks in particular: the duet with Regina Spektor, You Don't Know Me, and House, which preceded the reformation of Ben Folds Five for The Sound Of The Life Of The Mind and got my psyched for that release. Man, if the album had been even a patch on House it would have been great... alas.

We open with the version of Brick that anyone familiar with Ben Folds Five will know. As much as I love the song, this is not a patch on the solo version on Ben Folds Live and I have this on Whatever and Ever Amen so this one, with the (Radio Mix) tacked on, will go. One might ask why I bought this retrospective given that I own the vast majority of Folds' output and yeah... that's a good question with a couple of answers:

1. Rarities and live performances: There are many items on discs 2 and 3 that I did not have before I got this, and even on this disc there are versions of Landed and Smoke that I don't have anywhere else in addition to the Spektor duet and House mentioned before.

2. I use CDs in the car; I am, for a variety of reasons, still wedded to a physical format and a triple album that takes up the space of one? I'm all over that for the commute.

This disc wanders all over Folds' career. Rather than charting a course from early to late, it jumps around with the second song being the opener from Folds' first solo record, Rocking the Suburbs. I was at uni when that album came out, I remember a friend of mine picking it up on release and we listened to it round at his place. I remember he was pretty scathing about this track, but I always rather iked it. I dunno whether that is because, like a lot of Ben's work, the lyrics touch me on a sensitive nerve or whether I am just more able to enjoy the much more commercially flat composition or what. Anyway, I still rather like it now.

I have somehow managed to make it 3 listens in as many days. OK, so one was only 5 songs, but both Friday's and today's are over an hour long - and with the sundries that come with writing these things up, that equates to 90 minutes plus of attention to squeeze out of a schedule that hasn't permitted much lately. Thankfully this is a quiet weekend, not much going on bar buying a new toy and doing some basic garden care.

Having swooped forward, we drop back to the debut of Ben Folds Five for the next two songs and, to this point, everything I am hearing is getting digitally dropped after I am done. That said, the couplet of Philosophy and Underground - age-old as they are now - are appreciated. The best music stays vital, and whilst these songs have definitely aged (or perhaps it is fairer to say that the recording techniques have aged) and have nothing like the richness you might expect to hear in a modern arrangement and mastering, I suspect their themes and subjects are just as relevant to the youth of today (not that I know any).

We fly forward in time to Songs for Silverman next. Landed is a pastiche of an Elton John song, or at least I think I recall Folds saying so. I love it though. I leant hard on this in dark times past... and I feel like I've written this all before. Yup; this was on Ben Folds Five Live. This particular version has a lush string backing (hence Strings Version, duh!); to be honest I am not entirely sure what it adds because I never hear anything other than the vocal, clinging to the lyric. OK, that's hyperbole - the extra structure does change the dynamic a little - just enough for me to hold onto this.

Five of the first seven here are Ben Folds Five recordings, with only 2 more in the other 11 tracks. It makes me wonder how and why the track list was compiled as it was here, but only in passing as I am not that much of a raging Folds nerd (not quite). Of those 7, only Don't Change Your Plans is from their third (and last pre-split) album. I think it is under-represented in the retrospective as a whole, which is a shame because it was a very mature record, a band at the peak of their powers - with a more sombre and grown up tone. I love this song though, it speaks to a wanderlust I do not feel, and a sense of rootedness that I can relate to but have nothing tangible to attach to. If that sentence makes no sense to you, you are probably smarter than I.

Few songwriters can make me feel so viscerally lonely and vulnerable as Ben Folds, and The Luckiest is right up there with the songs that do. Less so now - I am older, wiser, just as single but far less self-defined by it, but whilst I was young, socially awkward and contemplating long term loneliness this love song sparked a terrible envy, even as I recognised the geeky beauty of it. Now I just think its a nice song, and think "wouldn't it be nice to share it" but then move on quickly. The next track doesn't help with that - Smoke is a bastard of a track, horrible break up agony couched in a lovely melody but the bitterness glares through that at you. This is a BFF track but performed instead by Ben and an orchestral backing. Here the orchestra really does add something - there is a sense of depth to the song that is absent from its original form. Assuming my memory of it is right that is much more stark and here the strings enhance the sorrow, overriding the bitterness a little.

It is a very dramatic change of tone to have the next track as Rocking the Suburbs - a self-deprecating comedy song with (deliberately?) crappy programming and other modern stuff and nonsense that somehow became not just a title track for an album but actually a reasonable track in its own right despite this, and screamed invective in the middle. I think this comes down to the writer's natural knack for catchy, and it helps that even though it is a comedic approach it is purely self-focused. We Brits like humble folks, so self-deprecation always plays well with us - much more so than standing big and proud shouting "look at me I'm great" - even if we think the person is great.

Ah Kate. This was, I am sure, the song that got me into Ben Folds Five as a teenager. I have vague memories of stupidly shuffling around the living room to this breezy number, taping it off the radio and so forth. I am not sure it holds up as well as most of their output, perhaps because it is more inextricably linked with being young and I am no longer that. It is still a pleasant tune though - Folds only started failing to deliver those with Way to Normal really, and even then there are some decent songs to balance out the dross. It is hard to really pick favourites though, in a way that I don't find with other artists. King Creosote and Thea Gilmore are two more artists that have touched me deeply at various points, but there I am easily able to point to favourite songs. With Ben Folds it is more dependent on my own mood as to which of his numbers I prefer. Incidentally Gilmore just released Ghosts & Graffiti which features KC on one track; that's a pairing I was stoked for initially, then less so when I realised which track (it is, again, kinda a retrospective) - its an aside from this post, but I am closing in on the point where I stop following Thea Gilmore as the last few releases have been drifting away from my musically, alas. At one point a Gilmore/Folds collaboration was my dream duet.

Back on track, after a version of Still Fighting It that I think might be different from the album version (have to check that and remove one later if not, I guess) its time for You Don't Know Me. This is just geeky joy for me. Ben Folds and Regina Spektor on the same record, personalities bumping off each other and sparking a really natural-feeling interplay. The quirky staccato structure really works for this too, bouncing around nicely. It makes for an incredibly catchy number, and there is also something intimate about Spektor's delivery in places, almost whispered. Perfect pairings like this can often be disappointing when they occur - see the previous paragraph! - but this one really works for me, and makes me wish there was more.

Still is the one track on this disc that I am not really familiar with, whilst I do apparently have another copy of it the name means nothing. However it is familiar when it starts, a haunting solo piano, a slow number. Strings are added later, creating more of a sad and wistful air which is quickly whisked away by the opening of From Above. This is high tempo, from Folds' collaboration with author Nick Hornby of About a Boy/High Fidelity etc. fame. Hornby is a big Folds fan and cited one of Ben Folds Fives numbers in 31 Songs, which I have read, though I cannot recall which song it was off the top of my head. At some point he connected with Ben, and ended up penning an album's worth of songs which Folds then arranged and recorded. The resulting LP - Lonely Avenue - is pretty good. From Above is not the best song from it (that is Picture Window in my book) but it is an enjoyable romp.

We arrive at House. This is a really strong song. The chorus is Ben Folds Five at their absolute best, emotion, structure melody, and power. When they really get into it they produce a whole heap of sound. It feels much less impactful listening now that when I first heard the song in 2011 and it hammered in to me - but I think that is to do with my speaker, the relative volume and no longer having the excitement of a potential Five reformation. Hearing this new recording back then was a promise of awesomeness - one that ultimately I feel the band did not deliver on. Now I listen to it and it is just a pretty decent song; it has lost something intangible, something I brought to it.

So what's left after this runthrough? Landed, Smoke, Still Fighting It, You Don't Know Me, Still and House. 6 of 18; I've checked Still and Still Fighting It against the other versions I have and they are different (Still is 5 minutes shorter here for a start!) so will stay.

Ben Folds Five Live - Ben Folds Five

Track list:

1. Jackson Cannery   
2. Erase Me   
3. Selfless, Cold And Composed   
4. Uncle Walter   
5. Landed   
6. Sky High   
7. One Chord Blues/Billie's Bounce   
8. Do It Anyway/Overture-Heaven on Their Minds   
9. Brick   
10. Draw A Crowd   
11. Narcolepsy   
12. Underground   
13. Tom and Mary   
14. One Angry Dwarf and 200 Solemn Faces   
15. Song for the Dumped

Running time: 73 minutes
Released: 2013

I remember being sad when Ben Folds Five split after The Unauthorized Biography of Reinhold Messner. I remember being wowed by House when it appeared on Folds' retrospective The Best Imitation of Myself and happy about the prospect of a reunion. The Sound Of The Life Of The Mind happened and was underwhelming, but I still bought this album when it appeared. I am not sure I ever paid it much attention, though - I have the older albums and Folds' solo material that serve me well.

This starts a run of discs of these guys and their frontman - their eponymous debut is (for some weird reason) listed after the live album, and followed by Ben Folds Live which, like this, is unfortunately not one show captured, but tracks pulled from different performances all over the place. As you might expect from the lists (later links?) above I am familiar with the majority of these tracks from prior recordings. I am surprised, a little, to see Landed appear here but then...

I am writing this in the early evening after a successful and fun day, first shopping then lounging on a beach front drinking retsina and eating too much. I couldn't come straight back and start writing after that, though so I had to watch people pretending to be Japanese first. This seems a touch like an afterthought to that, but at 73 minutes it won't be by the time I reach the end. Jackson Cannery lacks something compared to the other 2 versions I have; I think  Naked Baby Photos does it best. When Erase me starts, I wonder if that lack is a result of how it was recorded from the show as this also sounds a little flat. My memories of seeing this trio live are of a vivid, vivacious, raucous performance, characterised by Folds standing upon the lid of his piano encouraging a student crowd to sing along with a song I cannot quite recall for the image. That was the best part of 20 years ago now... this right here and now does not leave me cold, but neither is it particularly floating my boat. There are better songs to come though, so hopefully better performances too.

Ah, that's more like it. The piano melody on Selfless, Cold and Composed always acted as a lightning rod for my goosebumps and it does again here. It's a chillingly good song - typical of the Folds writing that wormed its way into the head of my nerdy teen self and somehow never left. Anger, sadness, regret... it has always felt like Ben Folds - along with a couple others before and since - had a direct line to my emotions and could stir them on demand. This version has typical artefacts of live performance and, to be honest, they do weaken the song for me. Some of the time it approaches discordant, other times it just sounds a mess - but then their style of play lends itself to that. I never thought Ben was the best of musicians, just up there with the best songwriters of his generation.

Uncle Walter, like Jackson Cannery, goes back to their debut - due next on my list - and was a song that I never gelled with but grew to appreciate all the same. Here the "But he's not"  spat out with such vehemence that I latched on to in the album version is simply delivered with no feeling and the song is very bland as a result, the outro being the highlight. Here the guys really go for it and that's nice and all, but it's too late. I really hope the performances pick up.

Landed was a song that I latched onto during a bad break-up; it will always have a place in my heart even though somewhere (I forget where) I saw Folds describe it as a phoned in Elton John impersonation - though not in so many words. This was not a Five song but by that point Ben was back to piano, bass and drums so it may as well have been. This delivery is softer than the song is on Songs for Silverman and I think it is the first track that I truly appreciate the versioning of, though I think it weakens in the last verse and chorus. We then enter a triplet of tunes I do not recognise by name. I like the first of them though. Sky High is more laid back than most of Ben Folds Five's output. It is apparently from The Sound Of The Life Of The Mind but neither the name nor the tune are familiar. The next two are more leave than take - pulled in from other places; the first contains some mildly diverting improvisation but is just muddled as a whole and the second derives from Lloyd-Webber (amongst others) which does not predispose me to liking it. I do recognise Do It Anyway when it plays but that does not save it. I am still waiting for a wholesale improvement in the standard of performance.

Goosebumps again; yes it is Brick. Not convinced by the heavy bass here - levels seem wrong, detracting from the melody rather than supporting and building it. It improves in the chorus though. Harrowing subject for a song but the amount of love for this track suggests that the timbre is about right. Serious enough to tackle the subject, but light enough to build a genuinely nice piece of music out of. The lines addressing loneliness touch a nerve and are instantly identifiable-with, even for those of us who have (thankfully) never been through such things, at least in the context here.

One last track from Sound... then 5 more older tracks to go, including a 9 minute version of Narcolepsy which must have something else on the end of it. Unfortunately the Sound track is the one that stuck in my mind as puerile and unbefitting of guys their age - the chorus of Draw a Crowd referring to lewd graffiti. It is no better live and, I think, exemplifies why they probably shouldn't have reformed. Folds - like Regina Spektor, who I compared to him - has always been liable to waver into weirdness and come up with bad material and this typifies the worst excesses. House was the great side of the Five recording together again and Sky High was enjoyable, but Draw a Crowd is probably more emblematic of the reformation output.

Narcolepsy is a hard track to really like. Its structure involves a nice melody being overridden by some very noisy play. It has always worked but it is not immediately appealing. A lot of what redeems it is in the vocal, an oddity for Folds since it has generally been the writing and the energetic playing that made his appeal. The outro/extension starts just after 5 minutes and does not, on the face of it, have anything immediately recognisable appended to it. I was half-expecting Misirlou or Dr Pyser. Instead it seems to be some light jazzy improvisation which I can imagine lapping up had I been in the audience, but on record I have actual jazz musicians using this arrangement of instruments to do it better.

People shouting "Who the fuck are you?" from the crowd in the first lines of Underground is old hat now. It was pretty funny the first time I heard it but a reprise 15+ years later is not clever, mate. Ah well, once the song gets going it's a very serviceable delivery but I cannot shake the feeling that I do not need another one - I have something like 4 different recordings of this track and whilst there are subtle differences it's not that much of a favourite. I cannot remember off the top of my head which version had the original (to me) shout recorded - Naked Baby Photos, I think - but that's the one I'll end up keeping because in that context it's still funny; the recording captures Folds sniggering in response, which makes it.

Getting near to the end of things now and really the majority of the album has been a huge disappointment. I am sceptical about the furious achondroplastic and the serenade for dropped lovers saving it as these songs are second nature and would really need something special to improve on them. To be fair, they really go for 200 Solemn Faces but the recording again has it feeling like it has less life than the original album version or Folds' solo rendition on Ben Folds Live (no Five). The opening to Song for the Dumped is also amped up and this actually might be a keeper because it's got all the energy but a very different sound - edgier bass bringing it a touch of new life. It is slightly strange hearing this song from a band collectively nearing their 50s though, and the use of the B-term is slightly cringeworthy for me now.

It ends in a really annoying manner though - Folds clearly asking the audience if they want one more, but this is the last track on the compiled live disc and the transition from that to silence as it ends is jarring. All in all I am not sold on this selection. I have happy memories of seeing both Ben Folds Five and Folds alone with his piano and I'll take my real, if fading, memories over this hodgepodge of performances. It's a shame, though not unexpected; I had hoped I might find a few stunningly good renditions. Instead I find regurgitated rations, generally not to the level of the other recordings I have to hand.

Begin to Hope - Regina Spektor

Track list:

1. Fidelity   
2. Better   
3. Samson   
4. On The Radio   
5. Field Below   
6. Hotel Song   
7. Après Moi   
8. 20 Years Of Snow   
9. That Time   
10. Edit   
11. Lady   
12. Summer In The City

Running time: 47 minutes
Released 2006

I got into Regina Spektor late - Far too late - and it wasn't until Live in London that I really fell for her work. Picking up her other albums I found her maddeningly inconsistent. When she is good she is wonderful, but I find there is a tendency there to go weird and awful too often. 

Some of my favourite tracks originate on this album but I am only really familiar with the live versions. I am looking forward to this, but with a certain trepidation. How many hits? How many duds?

I often think of Regina Spektor as a female counterpart Ben Folds - and as such someone I really should have got into sooner: a slightly nerdy piano-driven genius. They should collaborate more (I am aware of one track which will come up when I start mainlining Folds in a few discs' time); my nerdgasm would be massive. Anyhow, Fidelity is one of those tracks that I love from Live in London, and I find this recording quite hard to listen to as a result. The balance between voice and instrument seems to be wrong and there is not quite the impact in the singing. The song is the kind of number that sends my mind racing all over the place to my detriment, but it is such a beautiful sentiment that I would forgive it much more.

My impression is that this album may be her most consistently good work but I am basic that off the 5 I know well. There are 7 other tracks here that I have not paid much - indeed enough - attention to in the past. Better is the first of those. It is likeable enough here but it leaves me with the feeling I need to hear it a few more times if it is going to grow on me. This project and the culling of tracks that are not up to standard is good for getting me to pay attention to the vast array of tunes that I have accumulated, but it is not really very good for making informed decisions. These days I find that new material needs time to bed in and build an impression, being better with each listen until I am familiar enough to make more informed judgements. Still, there has to be something there to warrant returning more than once.

I digress about that because Samson and On the Radio are both also on Live... and second nature to me now as that disc is a regular when I am driving. On the Radio in particular offers a very simple pleasure, plinky in places it has a childlike nature to it that is really appealing. In both cases I prefer the live version, though I guess that is only to be expected given the level of familiarity I have with them. Field Below is new to me (though I have apparently scrobbled it a few times before), unrecognised. I rather like the soft singing, but the jingly nature of the piano in places is off-putting. In all honesty I find the track too slow for my current mood, sapping the energy I had to start this piece. I think, though, that in other circumstances I would really appreciate it.

OK, so that recording I like. Hotel Song is nicely put together and the differences from the live version are interesting this time rather than slightly flat. A punchier rhythm/percussion is a nice touch but it is the muted backing to Spektor's voice that adds depth which I really like, it sounds like a choir but could be any number of other things. It is a little too soft for me to find it distinct but I don't mind that. Après Moi is a song that I don't overly like most of, but it has always had magic to it when she starts singing in Russian - I believe I saw somewhere that it is quoting a Russian author or poet, but I don't recall... I find it fascinating and incredible to listen to despite not understanding a thing. Her inflections and voice help, but largely it is, I suspect, the musicality of what is, to me, an impenetrable language shining through.

I thought initially that was the last track here that I recognised but now I notice That Time is on here, too, making it a 50/50 split between those I know well and those I do not.That song is not a favourite and I certainly do not need both versions. I don't need 20 Years of Snow - playing now - either. These two tracks are definitely Spektor veering into the weird and not so wonderful, indulging herself. Trading on quirky is one thing, but for it to be worth trading on quirky needs to be backed up by more. Thankfully for us, it is, just not - generally speaking - on the same tracks that the quirks come out in force. Edit may change that... using percussive staccato forms and an almost spoken vocal this track blends her strengths with the sometime weaknesses and forms a pretty, compelling track that feels like it has purpose (and that is a trait that quirky can often ride roughshod over). The song does get a little repetitive by the time it draws closed but I like it.

Last couple now, neither of which I am overly familiar with. Lady, like Field Below earlier, feels a little slow for what I want just now but it has a lovely lilt to it, the composition feeling semi-classical in places, the delivery evoking crooners, old time singers in smokey bars - an effect that is magnified by the saxophone notes that come drifting in over it in. When the vocal gives over to the brass for the denouement the track loses much of its atmosphere - I don't think the piano plus sax works as a primary pairing. The final track is also a slow number, very simple notation with the singing carrying most of the interest; I don't mind that at all.

All told, this was a nice 45 minutes or so. Given the choice, I probably wouldn't listen to the album versions over the versions of any of the 6 tracks from Live in London, except Hotel Song, so I think to trim down is acceptable there, and 20 Years of Snow will go too. The other tracks though I need to listen again at some point to really appreciate.