Ben Folds and a Piano.

The words are already synonymous. But for the musician’s latest tour of the same name, he is making it clear to all the fans of his previous group, Ben Folds Five, that this is a solo deal. The wittily acerbic lyrics, contagious melodies and keyboard supremacy undoubtedly will remain but without the hammering bass and drums that made BFF the hippest pop trio of the ’90s.

Ben folds claims he'll remain a solo artist for the time being.

“There aren’t that many people who are doing things this way at my level I should probably have a backup band,” said Folds, launching into a related anecdote. “I played a show at Roseland Ballroom last week. It’s the biggest place that I’ve played in New York, and I sold it out. But last time I did a show anywhere close to that size was with the band. So it was weird to walk out to 4,000 people by myself.

“I had kind of dressed up for it, but I was standing in the rest room before the show and said, ‘You know what, it’s just me and a piano.’ So I took it off and went with a T-shirt, and somehow that really felt nice. It goes back to the truth in advertising (of the tour name). This is as stripped down as you can possibly get.”

The songwriting and piano-playing master is killing time in his home state of North Carolina prior to a performance. Having experimented with a camera earlier in the day, Folds is dropping off the film at a One Hour Photo.

He momentarily puts the cell phone down to ask an employee, “So are we cool? When do I come back?”

“In an hour,” came the deadpan reply.

Truth in advertising, as they say.

Decade of change

Since forming in 1994 at one of the decade’s breeding grounds for alternative music, Chapel Hill, N.C., Ben Folds Five seemed the complete antithesis of the reigning grunge scene when its self-titled debut came out the following year. Fueled by alt-radio favorites “Underground,” “One Angry Dwarf …,” “Battle of Who Could Care Less” and the band’s Top-40 ballad “Brick,” its material often fused formidable rock grooves with complex, hook-laden productions.

The members dubbed it “punk rock for sissies.”

But in 2000, following the ambitious yet commercially unsuccessful “The Unauthorized Biography of Reinhold Messner,” the trio of Folds, bassist Robert Sledge and drummer Darren Jesse called it quits. This proved quite a shock to the act’s considerable fan base. Just one more musical casualty of the ’90s.

“I think there were very few bands from the ’50s that managed to make it into the ’60s, and very few bands from the ’60s that were able to make it into the ’70s,” Folds compared. “Why? I don’t know, but it sure seems to be the pattern. You come in for a reason that’s not exactly what you might think it is. You’re signed because you sound like somebody else. Or you do one thing and that one thing is selling.

“Right now I feel like too many of us played the part up a little too much, like ‘indie band gone major’ and ‘never write a love song’ and ‘always be sarcastic about stuff.’ I just think we pulled that party line so much. So when someone like The Hives comes along, they kick ass because they don’t have all that (crap) on their shoulders. The cleaning of the closet is a really good thing, actually. I’m happy to hear some new music. And that includes me, too.”

Addressing this issue, Folds recently released his first post-band solo album “Rockin’ the Suburbs.” (He had previously put out a solo effort in 1998 under the pseudonym Fear of Pop.)

Folds elected to perform practically all the instruments on the new record. That wasn’t as much of a stretch as it sounds. In the late ’80s he served as bassist for a Carolina group called Majsha before relocating to Nashville and becoming a session drummer. But because he’s proven himself accomplished at other instruments, Folds found it difficult to be so subservient to the songs as pop compositions.

“Someone could listen to the record and go, ‘Oh, he sure has weenied out since he went on his own. He should have had some other people play the instruments.’ But no matter who would have played, that was what we were going for. It was a very slick album,” he said.

“It’s kind of like taking pictures. I love a Leica or Hasselblad they’re amazing cameras. And sometimes you want to take a picture with (tons) of detail and depth. But sometimes you want to go out with a toy camera and (screw) stuff up. People are expected in the music business to do one or the other. The drawback was that playing all the instruments myself I had to exercise four or five times more restraint. Next time I don’t intend to do that. I want to take pictures with a ‘lomo’ next time.”

Down-underground

Having relocated to Adelaide, Australia, a few years back with his wife and young twins, Folds isn’t finding the move particularly convenient to his career.

“It’s not the easiest thing in the world,” he said, his Southern drawl not having faded. “My base is still in America, which means I’ve got a lot of traveling to do.”

While he admits there are some musicians he would enjoy working with, the thought of putting another band together is unlikely. (“Right now I can’t imagine it,” he said.) That concept will extend to the studio. For his upcoming record, Folds plans on performing every instrument again, and then he’ll prepare for more ocean-spanning flights.

“I’ll probably just tour by myself,” the 35-year-old said. “I don’t know yet. It’s all up to what feels right. I’m not into doing stuff that doesn’t feel right anymore. I haven’t seen any proof that it ever works.

“If I make the record and I get done with it and I’ve had a backup band on the thing and I decide to erase all their tracks, I’m allowed to do that,” Folds added. “Then when that’s done, if I want to start touring with a sitar player and a drum machine, I’ll do it although that’s not very likely.”