Ben Folds rocks the college circuit

At the end, you look at the piano keys to see if they're smoking. Ben Folds doesn't tickle the ivories. He torches them.

Last night, April 27th, Melissa and I met Josh at the UPS Fieldhouse to watch some poor schlub warm up for Ben Folds. The wife and I, at any rate, were not disappointed. He had enough new material to pique my interest, enough old songs to summon waves of nostalgia, and enough piano hacks (Altoids cans, pie plate, maraca, distortion pedal) to mess up my notion of pianism forever.

Moby showed up for all of three minutes, jammed on the organ, and then disappeared back under the stage.

Update: Well, that explains why Moby was kept on a short leash: he wasn't Moby. Ben Folds, you crafty devil. (For the record, I remember thinking that Moby's jam session with Folds was pretty crappy. That explains it.)