Ben Lee

To give you an idea of Ben Lee's immaculate indie rock pedigree, he first played in Noise Addict at the tender age of 13. While that band went on to work with the critically acclaimed labels of Thurston Moore and the Beastie Boys, Lee left it all behind for a promising solo career in the mid-'90s. He hasn't looked back since, either, from the playful pop tunes of Grandpaw Would (complete with a cooing Liz Phair on "Away With the Pixies") to the older, wiser tales of Ripe and Awake Is the New Sleep (the placid organ rolls and lovelorn pleas of "Catch My Disease," the peaks and valleys of "Love Me Like the World Is Ending"). His perfectly harnessed hooks and forever-young sense of humor take center stage in our Next Steps as well.

A love of irony isn't the only reason the Bens — Kweller, Lee, and Folds, a trio formed on a first-name basis — works so well. At the end of the day, each artist is an indie rock icon in his own right, sharing a similar grasp of immediate, hooks-heavy songwriting and never taking himself too seriously. Take Lee, for instance: "What Would Jay-Z Do?" sounds like a college rock chart-topper from the early '90s and seems to honestly wonder how the bling-coated rap star would handle different situations; "Dirty Mind" dabbles in sexcapade lyrics and distorted drum loops (courtesy of ex-Gorillaz collaborator Dan the Automator); and "Float On" reimagines the bubbly Modest Mouse hit as a lazy Sunday lament.

Unless some pre-teen hits the Aussie scene with a guitar and a dream sometime soon, Ben Lee — not to be confused with his Ben buddies, Kweller and Folds — will forever be remembered as Australia's penultimate indie pop-penning "boy genius." That's what happens when you're a respected solo artist at the age of 16 and collaborating with Mandy Moore (the lighthearted and laidback '50s-style duet "Birds and Bees") and the modern rock architects in Rooney (the joyous and slightly jagged "American Television") by the time you turn 29. As for the decade in between, Lee has never sounded content with simple singer-songwriter fare, whether we're talking the low-lit, Dylan-like stroll of "We're All In This Together" or the tasteful, subdued samples of the entire Hey You. Yes You. album.