Ambitious and droll pop balladry 

On What Matters Most, Ben Folds takes stock of “these days of overwhelming change” through ten pretty but mostly unmemorable pop songs. “There’s a lifetime of craft and experience all focused into this one record,” Folds has said, which might explain why the album sounds somewhat facile, like the music came easily and the words were written in a state of settled detachment. He may be sincere when he asks, “Do you still believe in the good of humanity?” and the “I do” harmonies he answers himself with are sweet to the ear, but the question and the harmonies don’t feel essential. Interestingly, Folds also thinks, “We don’t need any new albums. We don’t.”

Without making a value judgment, it’s fair to say that the style of this music is pretentious, the way one would call a punk record hostile without meaning people should be afraid of it. Pretentiousness is merely the flavor of songs with titles like “What Matters Most” and “Clouds with Ellipses.” Ben Folds plays fancy piano and partakes of fancy strings, and he delivers his vocals in a conversational and theatrical manner. For sure, great music could be made using this palette. 

All the material here is enjoyable sonically and focused lyrically, and could possibly grow on listeners who are really into Folds’ niche. “But Wait, There’s More” starts with some soft electronic keyboard with a whimsical searching quality shadowed by a safe amount of danger, and then gets funky halfway through. “Fragile” calls out a difficult partner delicately. “Exhausting Lover” is an over-the-top takeoff about an ill-advised dalliance gone awry with some frantic storytelling like, “Some dude live-tweeted as I ran half-naked past a Cracker Barrel.” “Back to Anonymous,” which wonders at the strangeness of fame, has a haunting harmonica part reminiscent of Stevie Wonder’s playing or John Barry’s “Midnight Cowboy” theme. 

What keeps the album from sounding more than merely “nice” though might be that the songs feel like exercises in familiar styles and subjects rather than bold new takes. For example, “Kristine From The 7th Grade” addresses a woman who “laughed a lot” in middle school but now has become bitter and obsessed with pseudoscience, guns and conspiracy theories, over music that is capital R Romantic. Contrasting the sophistication of the music with Kristine’s ignorant political views feels too on the nose, like a misuse of a lush melody and a relevant angle. 

One would think that an album with such a grand title would have a more urgent point of view. Given the strange alchemy that happens when words and tunes are mixed together, there’s a good chance that these skillful compositions would sound better if the stories that went with them were more challenging and alive. Maybe “what matters most” is way too big a question to answer sincerely in 40 minutes.