Ben Kweller: yeah, he’s a regular guy

Ben Kweller is not a rock star.

He’s your neighbor, your cousin and that standoffish kid in your graduating class who had a nice smile and a warm heart, who you sometimes still wonder about.

Except Kweller happens to play guitar. And piano. And drums. All beautifully, with the sincerity and care of someone who is completely and absolutely obsessed with music.

Clad unassumingly in black sweatshirt, jeans and black Converse All-Stars, Kweller chose the dusty back stairs of the Paradise Rock Club for an interview Saturday night before his sold-out show. Lounging on the steps, his bobbed haircut and wide, expressive eyes reminiscent of Patrick Fugit in ‘Almost Famous,’ he talked animatedly and laughed easily, obviously still incredulous that it was all happening.

‘This is the coolest thing ever,’ he said in slight Texan drawl. ‘I decided to open for other bands until I made sure I had enough fans to become a headliner. Now you guys are lining up around the block. It’s like selling out without selling out, you know?’

Kweller, 20, has crept onto the music scene through doors left ajar by friends Evan Dando, Jeff Tweedy and Juliana Hatfield, seducing a wide fan base all around the country and world with his pop sensibilities and straightforward brand of punkish rock. Though Kweller released the critically acclaimed Sha Sha last year, his love for music and homegrown mastery of the piano and guitar began much, much earlier.

He learned to play the piano at age 5 in Greenville, Tex., and received his first electric guitar at age 12. With his two best friends, Kweller established punk-pop outfit Radish in 1993. Together for seven years, the band experienced a burst of premature fame, as it garnered a major record label contract and even dined with Madonna …

Wait, Madonna?

‘To entice us to Madonna’s label, the record company invited us over to her house for lunch,’ he laughed. ‘I played her a couple of songs. Then the doorbell rang, and I grabbed it [apparently Madonna does not answer doors]. Guess who was standing there? Anthony Kiedis, oh my.’

Alas even the material girl could not save the ailing Radish, as critics dismissed the trio’s 1997 debut record, Restraining Bolt, quickly deflating all the hype they had built around the boys. With much to ponder and a stinging dose of music industry reality, the band hung up their guitars and Kweller traveled to Brooklyn as a solo artist.

Writing constantly, Kweller began booking opening slots with acts like Wilco, Hatfield and Guster spreading his musical equivalent of a smile with simple dedication and raw talent. He even self-released a loose collection of songs, Freak Out, It’s Ben Kweller, which he passed around to audiences after the shows.

‘One day I got a message on my machine,’ he remembered. ‘It was from Evan Dando, and he was calling to say he liked my CD-one of my previous idols liked my music. He asked me to go on tour, so we threw two acoustics into the back of my Volvo and we did.’

That was two years ago, and this is now. How has the headlining life affected him?

‘My life is crazy. It’s abnormal, but that has always been my normal. I’m off and on. Happy and sad. Black and white. Sticky and non-sticky.’

Stickiness aside, there weren’t any discrepancies surrounding Kweller’s Paradise show last Saturday-it was all good. Kweller and his band rocked out, reminding the audience that today’s lighter alternatives can still rip up a well-written song with the ferocity of early Aerosmith and guitar-destroying Pete Townsend.

‘Walk on Me,’ from Sha Sha, was a rollicking alt-country number which was two parts Lemonheads and two parts rock anthem. Kweller strained and growled, reaching all the high notes, ripping his vocal chords, pleading: ‘If I was in your shoes I wouldn’t walk all over you / So please don’t walk all over me.’ He had the audience at the first infectious hook.

Though he played some electric guitar, he shined in his powerful acoustic play. He doesn’t play acoustic guitar in the traditional sense-no softly rambling Dylan here. He tears the strings, attacking the usually soft-spoken beast until it cries out in alternate pain and ecstasy. His beaten guitar, peeling and scratched at the mouth, stands as testament to Kweller’s hard-rocking alter ego.

Throughout the energetic set, Kweller commanded audience attention with his sweet, toothy grin and warm stage presence. He moon-walked, referred to the crowd as ‘friends,’ and even treated fans to a guitar rift from Nirvana’s ‘Heart-Shaped Box,’ musing: ‘That’s a new rift. I think it will be a good one.’ At one point, he even apologized for tuning with his back to the audience.

‘We’re friends,’ he said, breathless. ‘Friends don’t tune with their backs turned, they just don’t.’

The show concluded with a four-song encore. ‘No Reason,’ the show’s frenetic finale, became a 15-minute guitar jam, transitioning from alt-country to stadium rock, building to a driving semi-interpretation of Black Sabbath’s ‘Iron Man.’ Kweller performed with the energy and happiness of a young child ‘playing’ rock star-as if someone gave him Jimi Hendrix’s trademark Strat and told him to have fun.

He has the perfect formula for success: youthful exuberance, talent and charisma. But how does Kwellerexcited for his cross-country tour with the Strokes next month, preparing to start recording a new album in June and discussing a possible worldwide ‘Ben Tour’ with Ben Lee and Ben Folds about his accomplishments?

‘Success to me is fulfillment, it’s moving forward in life,’ he surmised. ‘When I was little, I used to meet our trashman, Lorenzo, at the end of the driveway everyday. I thought he was so cool, and I told my parents I wanted to be a trashman when I grew up. No doubt they were slightly disappointed, but my mom told me to be the best trashman I could beto be happy. I think that’s success.’

He really talks like this. But you get the feeling he means every word.