It is a real challenge to dislike Ben Lee. He may be known most as Claire Danes' ex-boyfriend, and as band-mate to Ben Kweller and Ben Folds in their appropriately named joint venture, The Bens, but Lee has been at the singer-songwriter game for more than a decade.
Still a mere 26-years old, Lee has not added much to his ambition or stylistic bag of tricks with his latest offering, Awake Is the New Sleep. But what the soft-singing Aussie lacks on the cutting edge, he makes up in mellow sincerity and overwhelming affability.
Not much has changed in Lee's sound from previous work. He quietly, but self-assuredly delivers spacey, introspective lyrics over an understated acoustic guitar to form unassuming, usually pleasant songs that rarely stretch past four minutes in length.
Lee crafts the album with a gentle hand, as backing vocals and instrumental studio flourishes help create an appealing atmospheric tone without ever disrupting the tenderness of his voice.
Low-impact introspection and meditations on love and life fill the album. There is not much in the way of variety or spectacular insight to be found, but the unextraordinary goals Lee sets for himself are met with soothing, sometimes infectious results. The subdued \Begin"" manages to successfully incorporate a busier beat, while ""Whatever It Is"" sees the singer's sleepy delivery ground to a calm, almost spoken word performance.
Amidst all the album's quiet emotion and naptime pacing, ""Catch My Disease"" stands out as the great exception and highlight. Still on the slow side, the catchy, upbeat number might be the year's best sing-along. The song reflects a certain contented spirit that Lee displays less directly throughout the album. When he sings, ""They play Good Charlotte on the radio and that's the way I like it ... They don't play me on the radio and that's the way I like it,"" he seems genuinely at peace with his place in the pop pantheon.
Lee's contentedness might get the best of him on the album, as his consistency of style and tone becomes monotonous by the final tracks. But at the same time, there's no real filler on the album either. It's hard to complain about an album where the standard is set and met by sweet offerings like ""Ache For You"" and ""Apple Candy.""
As a singer-songwriter, Ben Lee is like a puppy dog chained to a doghouse. He is limited to the same space he's always explored and never really moves any further, but it sure is cute and enjoyable to watch him play within those confines, and he seems to enjoy it himself.
In a world of over-exposed and overwrought coffee shop crooners, like John Mayer, it's hard to not like someone who sounds like he's soothed and having fun, and wants to share that same sensation with his listeners.
