Outside Counsel

I figured Ben Folds as a sort of late 90's Billy Joel, and by the time I realized that this was not such a bad thing to be, I realized as well that it was not a particularly good description of Folds, either. To Uncle Sam's Jam yesterday, Day One of a two day free festival put on by the GooGoo Dolls on the steps of City Hall. Can't say I've ever been a fan of the Goos-- they impress me as mostly derivative and uninteresting, but I'm a fan now. This festival is how it should always be done: local acts and national acts; smooth short transitions between sets; no lines at the concessions or the Port O Sans; clean Port O Sans; acts bring on other acts for a number or two-- I'm impressed. I made downtown in time for The Juliet dagger, a power punk trio fronted by two women. They were good for what they were-- a power punk trio fronted by two women, but I don't mean to damn them with faint praise by any means. They turned in a respectable set that looked like it was a lot of fun to play, and I'll want to see them again. Folds was up next, and he was terrific. I suppose a great deal of his appeal is that he traffics so heavily in irony, but I am a sucker for hooky pop, and he brings a lot of that. Rufus Wainwright followed. I'm a fan, I guess, but a whole set, or a whole CD is a lot of Rufus to take at once. He has a great voice, and he knows it: it is not hard to imagine him growing up, belting out songs in the unselfconscious way that Marcus sings in "About A Boy", Kate McGarrigle beaming approvingly in their Montreal kitchen. He brought Guster on to play "One Man Guy", and it was pretty terrific. We didn't stay for Guster's set-- in the end one of the problems I have with festivals is that the time investment is too great. I'll go tonight and see Ani DiFranco and the GooGoos, (EGA likes Ani, CLA loves Johnny Reznik).