More Sentimental Balladry From the Kings of Okayness

These days, confessional singer-songwriters walk a thin line: they either find universal messages in individual experience, or they just suck. When singing about oneself, it’s not easy to shake the feeling that the product is the singer, rather than the songs. The ideal singer-songwriter persona therefore requires extra attention to balancing personal elements with humility, and tempering self-indulgence with self-awareness. Five for Fighting’s John Ondrasik has always walked that line with just a bit too much brazenness, as evidenced by his breakthrough 2000 album America Town, whose ubiquitous single “Superman (It’s Not Easy)” couched self-absorption in cartoonish humility, yielding something like Ben Folds but without the sense of humor. The Battle for Everything, Ondrasik’s third album under the Five for Fighting moniker, finds the singer-pianist-guitarist in another one of his “mature” moods, exploring themes of aging and mortality, love and confusion with the professional sheen of a seasoned singer-songwriter, with all of the pomposity and little of the excitement. The Battle for Everything is an occasionally interesting record, but the sheer pretension of Ondrasik’s lyrics coupled with his penchant for self-seriousness tend to suck much of the fun out of what could have been an enjoyably middle-of-the-road adult alternative album.

Ondrasik knows his pop songs, and The Battle for Everything has hooks in spades—however, it’s his lyrics and delivery that bog down the better tunes in layers of melodrama and preciousness. Ondrasik’s creaky Vedder-lite croon has an impressive emotional range; he really tries to sell his songs, flipping up to that instantly recognizable falsetto often and milking each lyric for maximum intensity. Still, Ondrasik’s best asset is, unfortunately, his biggest weakness. His vision is so grandiose that too much emphasis is put on the heavy-handed Meaning-with-a-capital-“M” injected into his mediocre lyrics and middleweight melodies. The spoken “It’s a nice day, if you wake up in Disneyland” refrain at the end of “Disneyland”, for example, uncomfortably recalls Sean Mullins, ruining a perfectly good chorus with saccharine showboating.

Piano-pop is the order of the day for most of Five for Fighting’s tunes. Ondrasik’s love of Elton John is clear, as is his appreciation for adult-contemporary heavy hitters like Peter Gabriel and, of course, good ol’ Davey Matthews. The first single, “100 Years”, covers painfully well-worn territory in a similar melodic format to “Superman”. Ondrasik deconstructs the aging process by singing to himself at various ages, telling his younger counterpart, “Fifteen, there’s still time for you / Time to buy and time to lose / Fifteen, there’s never a wish better than this / When you’ve only got a hundred years … to live”. It’s a damn catchy song, peppy and drenched in strings. Of course, those lyrics are awful—it’s an obvious, painfully overdone lyrical trope, and to make matters worse Ondrasik sings like it’s the first time anyone’s ever thought of such a thing. Too much ambition, too little talent.

Worthwhile musical moments are not entirely absent. Decent tunes include the uncharacteristically quirky melodic chorus of “Angels and Girlfriends”, whose unexpected chord changes are a welcome break from the standard pop-rock sounds on the rest of the album; the rootsy verse on the opening track “NYC Weather Report” smacks of Coldplay at their most mid-level-rocking; and, despite its cringe-inducing spoken refrain, “Disneyland” showcases the best aspects of Ondrasik’s work: plaintive, soaring melodies, and that kickass falsetto keening over the chorus.

Unfortunately, there’s one moment on the album that exposes the rest of The Battle for Everything‘s biggest fault. Halfway through “The Taste”, the only pure guitar-rocking song among the twelve midtempo ballads, John Ondrasik screams. It’s a raucous, Howlin’ Pelle Almqvist moment of sheer unselfconscious exuberance, and the second it appears the rest of The Battle for Everything shrivels into a beige soup. The problem with Five for Fighting lies in Ondrasik’s inability to just loosen up. He’s so concerned with being profound, with changing people’s lives through the limitless power of song that he seems to have forgotten to have fun, cut the sentimental bullcrap, and deliver a riveting performance for once. Much of The Battle for Everything seems content to be merely good, middleweight piano pop. For those who dig that sort of thing, Ondrasik may be the next Sting. Or perhaps he’ll just be the next Richard Marx. I’m guessing the latter.