I didn't go to Ben Lee's sold-out concert at Warners Bay on Thursday night with the intention of writing about it. Login or signup to continue reading I was curious, having interviewed him on two occasions and being of his '90s "vintage" (give or take a year or two ..
.) a decade that is, I am told, being idealised by today's teens. That and Y2K.
I do know my ultra-low-rise jeans, long past their use-by date when it comes to my hips, have been joyfully claimed by a daughter of mine. But I digress. When Lee was being described overseas as a prodigy of sorts, I was studying at university and firmly entrenched in the grunge scene, idolising Chris Cornell and Layne Staley and about to discover the industrial beauty of Nine Inch Nails.
My 12-hole Docs and I didn't appreciate a quirky Aussie singer and songwriter by the name of Ben Lee. Until now. Lee's lyrics were and are before his time.
Serious and intense, observant and critical ...
perhaps he was old before his time too. But again, his lyrics ..
. intensely personal and intimate, yet universal. You can relate to what he's saying, how he must have felt when he wrote them.
His songs are, at times, painfully raw. These days Lee is relaxed and fun on stage and doesn't take himself too seriously. His performances are, I feel, all the better for it.
His voice is stronger, more confident. He has embraced the "dad jokes" and the "dad bod" and gets a kick out of making his audience laugh. It doesn't feel like he is out there to prove any.