Weekly Records – The Unauthorized Biography Of Reinhold Messner

As mentioned in October’s 8, I’m trying to listen to more music I already own. I want to go through at least one album every week.

Album: The Unauthorized Biography of Reinhold Messner

Artist: Ben Folds Five

Released: 1999

Obtained: 2002, purchased new to fill my first iPod

Three Sad Semesters

I’m not that much of a Ben Folds fan. But maybe I am. I like a lot of Ben Folds songs, but I’ve never liked his work as much as I feel like I’m supposed to. A lot of people who have similar upbringings or similar tastes to mine really, really like Ben Folds. Folds has described the band’s sound as “Punk rock for pussies.” I’ll keep that in mind as I write this.

You’re Not A Kid

When I chose The Unauthorized Biography of Reinhold Messner as my second weekly record, I inadvertently chose the whole BF5 catalog.

As a third album, Messner is a departure. As a final album, it’s Ben Fold’s (and the Five’s) masterpiece. The band broke up the year after the album was released, and it sounds like this was the end. Another album like this would’ve been disingenuous and another like the first two (Self-titled and Whatever and Ever Amen) would’ve been a retreat.

Pitchfork gave Messner 3.3 out of 10. Robert Christgau gave it a B and said Folds was being rewarded for his cleverness. These reviews present some valid arguments, but the fact that I’m trying to depict the album as the band’s masterpiece requires me to make a few leaps.

1. The meaning of art can change. A painter’s work is more valuable postmortem; a group’s final album becomes more meaningful once it becomes the final album. Does this mean reunion tours cheapen the value of preexisting oeuvres? Maybe.
2. Since UBRM has little in common with the first two BF5 albums, it can only be a masterpiece if the previous two albums are a) irrelevant or b) encapsulated in a thematically different album. I’m going with option ‘b.’ Army does what the first two albums did (though maybe not entirely as well) and the rest of Reinhold Messner sums up and multiplies the sentiment from the first two records.

There Might Not Be Anything At All Inside

Reinhold Messner is a sad album. The first few songs are mostly dark lyrically and they have a remotely jazzy, warm, echoey sound. This is the album that shows off Darren Jesse’s drumming versatility. The drumming really makes the album. String-heavy tracks like Narcolepsy would sound schmaltzy without Jesse’s kit grounding them. Mess would drag without the fancy stick-work on the cymbals. The electric-piano moper Jane would be muck without the syncopated kick-snare rhythm underneath it.

Folds is at his least weird and least conventional on Reinhold Messner. There are no fantasies like Jackson Cannery or lists of angsts like One Angry Dwarf here. Even the funny songs on Reinhold Messner (Army, Your Redneck Past) are sad.

The similar feel and production across Messner makes it sound like the band’s most complete album. The songs are longer, too, so the instrumental interludes keep the band from wearing out its welcome with too much sap or cheese.

Billy Idol Or Kool Moe Dee?

Reinhold Messner is still my favorite Folds album. I’m convinced that this wouldn’t be the case if the band had stayed together. The breakup just makes the record sound better. That seems like a BS way to think about it, but I think it fits music’s personal appeal. If these indescribable feelings don’t affect overall quality (from person to person, since music is personal), then all records should be judged only on the artist’s musical talent and the album’s production quality. If that’s the case, then why listen to anything but Steely Dan and Bela Fleck? Messner was a bold statement for a band that only occasionally took its tongue out of its cheek. Ben Folds could’ve stuck to the same ballad/goofball-romp/ballad formula for a few more albums and made a fortune off of dedicated fans, but the risk paid off artistically. It’s not the best album of the 90s, but looking back, I’d rather hear Folds pretend to have narcolepsy than learn about Kurt Cobain’s horrible childhood.