This semester, Ben Anshutz is a name that has been tossed around quite a bit as his songs have spread like butter across the Internet. The sophomore's mission is simple: "I'm bringing my folk-fried, jazz-dipped, pop rock to the streets of California, Boston and everywhere in between. Spread the madness," he says on his Web site. And since adopting his simpler stage name, "Ben Crane," it seems that the troubadour, poet and astronomy expert has been doing just that -- spreading the proverbial madness.
He was raised in Newport Beach, Calif., where his mom, a piano teacher, taught him how to play at three years old. Before school every morning, Ben would practice his classical piano until his interest later shifted to jazz and then to the rock/pop genre, where most of his musical endeavors now take shape.
At lunch, Ben told me about attending high school in California and reminisced on his frustration with the limited music scene and the rigid school rules concerning how opposite-sex students could interact, proclaiming that he's glad that Tufts hasn't adopted his high school's motto: "Doors open, lights on." Listening to Ben's music, there's no denying that these rules might have been blessings in disguise, forcing him to develop his romantic imagination.
As in most music, romance and love are dominant themes in Ben's repertoire. A combination of a callow attraction to the ideal of romance and a more experienced understanding of the shortcomings of such an attraction pervade his songs; he is at once wistful and hopeful, reflecting on love lost and love renewed with lofty lyrics filled with metaphors and sublime space imagery.
Now, considering the present musical context in which a number of bands and amateur YouTube.com artists have made names for themselves through parody and humor, it's easy to see how someone might mistake Ben's music for a lampoon against over-wrought, emotionally candid and verbose indie/folk-rock performers. I have to admit, when I first heard Ben's song "Mind Trick," I wasn't sure whether I was listening to the work of a genius musical satirist or Ben Folds on psychedelics.
But after meeting Ben, I think the latter interpretation fits best. In "Mind Trick," he describes his overwhelming emotions for a girl with grandiose galactic language, as if the limited space on earth simply isn't adequate for his infinite scope of feeling: "I get dizzy whenever you walk by/ Cause neon lights/ Explode in the sky/ And I wonder if you're an illusion/ Or curious cosmic fusion." Ben's lyrics shed new light on universal feelings; I too have wondered if a girl I once met was not a "curious cosmic fusion." And who hasn't, really?
In my favorite verse, Ben sings: "We could step out into the sky/ You'd gasp as worlds passed us by/ Drift through the galactic air/ Hypnotized by solar flares/ Drift through the Milky Way/ And kiss above a supernova." Something about these lines reminds me of a PG-13 version of Disney's "Fantasia." I can even see Ben in a blue robe and Mickey Mouse ears conducting the whole thing as stars erupt into myriad specks of dust and the sun's surface rips and twirls around like the stuff in a lava lamp.
As you can probably tell, Ben's music defies simple categorization. In fact, I don't even think his own "folk-fried, jazzed dipped, pop rock" description quite covers it -- which goes to show you that, in the creative process, sometimes the creation eludes even the creator. And I guess that's what keeps it interesting.
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Michael Goetzman is a sophomore who has not yet declared a major. He can be reached at Michael.Goetzman@tufts.edu.
