Ben Folds / Corn Mo

Carling Academy, Liverpool on Tue 8th Jul 2008

My legs are aching, my heart is racing, I'm short of breath. With each step I take I feel like I am nearing the possibility of never returning to whence I came. No, it's not K2, it's the stairs leading up to the Liverpool branch of the Carling Academy empire.

It's rare for myself to venture more than thirty yards for a sandwich, let alone travel the 260 miles to Liverpool two days before I pack out for T In The Park, but the chance to see Ben Folds twice in one week is just too tempting to resist. I only wish I brought my abseiling equipment.

Having said that, this Liverpool incarnation of the Academy is by far the smallest - rather, most intimate, on the roster. Running a little late, a long haired, bearded individual cradling an accordion approaches the mike and begins to sing a song that moves like traditional Scottish folk. The collective unconsciousness in the room gives a "Holy Shinobi, what the hell is this!!?", when he begins to sing 'Lollipop' which is the kind of song that Syd Barrett would have wrote had he done the music to Playbus. Ladies and gentlemen, this is Corn Mo.

Brooklyn based, though originally hailing from Texas, Jon Cunningham's onstage alter ego is a tongue-in-cheek adventure into a fantastical mind, full of colour and wild imaginations. Currently touring the hilarious 'Your Favourite Hamburger Is A Cheeseburger' EP, a record made with .357 Lover supplying the 'rawk' backing to Cunningham's charming adventures in naivety, he has been forced to dream alone tonight having been unable to bring .357 Lover across the pond. Bringing in their stead his digital piano, his accordion and a sample pedal to accent those dynamics with a solitary cymbal crash, he is more than equipped to let us into the strange world of Corn Mo.

What is truly wonderful about Cunningham's universe is his child-like vista, his lyrics present a world that wouldn't be too unfamiliar to readers of Alasdair Gray's surreal visions. The extent of the man's vocal range is fantastic, crossing genres from folk to metal in a single line, most probably about confectionery or some kind of burger. 'The Day Jason Kline Cried' is the only song ever written about children relieving themselves onto other children, let alone get away with it and not come across as creepy as a Crankie.

It's not for everyone granted, but his sheer musicianship is enough to warrant respect from most of the audience and have them in the palm of his hand for his brilliant accordion-led version of 'We Are The Champions'. If you're always looking for something different but can't stand pretentious melancholy Corn Mo is your guy.

Bias alert! I love Ben. I have since I saw them, as a child of no greater age than 9, fleetingly on ITV's now defunct Chart Show and I didn't quite understand how significant what I was watching would eventually be to myself at the time.

Years later, several albums and shows down the line and I'm doing what I like to do at least once a year, waiting for Mr Folds. It's been some time since a bona fide, grade-a new LP has emerged. So long, in fact, that I've been able to see Mr Folds about five (or six times by the time you read this) since 'Songs For Silverman'. As I'm pondering this I hear the rising 'woo' from the front of the building and I'm good to go. It's a good job I'm lusting for new material because that's what I get as soon as they open the channels.

'Errant Dog' harks back to the days of Ben Folds Five's eponymous debut, yet it wouldn't sound out of place on 'The Unauthorised Biography Of Reinhold Messner'. Fuzz bass so thick it feels spiky honey, the use of floaty, major seventh chords and staccato dominant sevenths being his key hallmarks are here in seemingly limitless abundance. Recently, Folds has not operated on this level or produced this kind of material and by all accounts 'Way To Normal' is looking like his most interesting work since the aforementioned Reinhold Messner.

Sam Smith is among the most intuitive drummers I've seen, keeping up with Fold's subtle time changes on 'You To Thank' and being simply primal on new track 'Fresh Coffee' (for which Folds prepares the piano like Cage, with cans and a little distortion to invoke an 8 bit sound card from the eighties. Mr Folds in between numbers is his usual subdued, yet charismatic self, always feeling like a friend who popped by with his band to entertain you for a bit just before you went down the shops, yet on numbers like the heart rending 'Brick' or the terribly dance-able 'Zak And Sara' the true talent that the man exudes is mind numbingly awesome. Other new tracks 'Hiroshima' and 'Effington' are looking to be future Folds classics, standing tall against 'The Battle Of Who Could Care Less' and the truly anthemic 'Underground'. Highlight for me, due to the unbelievably static crowd being his fantastic cover of The Postal Service's 'Such Great Heights', delivered with as much passion as could be infused into the song. Again throughout, the entire show I feel like I'm committing a crime by wanting to sing along, dance, or enjoy myself, getting dirty looks from people who wanted the gig to be more like a library rather than well... fun.

article by: Ross Gilchrist

published: 11/07/2008 12:35



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