Shit Yeah, It's Cool! Ben Folds "For Those Of Ya'll Who Wear Fannie Packs"!

First off, Ben Folds is a goddamn national treasure.

He's the sort of guy whose music connects with everyone on a very intimate level.  I mean, play "The Luckiest" for a woman, any woman, and they will fall madly in love with..Ben Folds.  For me, and I'm not kidding here, "For Those Of Ya'll Who Wear Fannie Packs" is the one song that does for me what that bottle of bourbon in the bottom drawer did for those who came before.

Bad case of the Mondays - on Thursday?  Gotta get psyched for that big presentation?

I challenge anyone to listen to "Fannie Packs" all the motherfucking way through to the end, goddammit, not just until you think you're charged up enough.  Doesn't work like that, pal.  Stay til the song ends out of respect to the Master.

I've literally played both songs for a few ladies - it's kind of my schtick at a certain phase in the "blossoming friendship", but I digress - and watched in stitches as they tried to wrap their heads around the fact that both tunes could come from the same man.  A few were also pretty enthralled by the latter's seemingly random gibberish beginning that slowly builds into this savagely cockeyed free-for-all one minute to complete organized mayhem the next.

And, that bad-ass on bass is Robert Sledge.  Suddenly Flea sounds kinda ridiculous!

"I WANNA BORROW SOME DUCT TAPE!" - Ben Folds

Most guys of a certain age can still remember when the Ben Folds Five were this nonchalantly amazing indie band.  Folds was an oddly brash, but likeable frontman, hard to figure out, but brilliant in his aloofness.
My contemplation of the day's theme - #tbt - led me to dig out Naked Baby Photos this morning and, when I do, I always end up listening to "Fannie Pack" for the rest of the day.  Hey, I'm the first guy to immediately blab about any tune that knocks me on my ass these days, but there are few tunes you almost wanna keep to yourself, they're so good.  The last thing you wanna do is have those fucking soccer moms find out about it.

Or worse, their reformed frat boy husband whose CD collection consists entirely of Buffets, don't make me name them both.

Thing is, you cannot listen to "For Those of Ya'll Who Wear Fannie Packs" and write about it at the same time without your head exploding.  I have to pause the song to tell you how great it is, but, fuck, I am only human - some would say more human than human - and can only resist for so long..  I urge you to stop reading since, well, I've stopped typing.

Seriously, promise me you'll listen to the very end, though.