"Diving In" is a series where I look at a musician that I have almost zero knowledge of and listen to most or all of their discography. My first installment is on the one of a kind experimental rock/folk artist, Beck.
I usually like to know quite a bit about a musician before I consider going to see them in concert, but because of the infectiously liberal, rogue attitude that comes with the music festival experience, I decided to take a chance one night this August and see Beck, an artist that I had little to no interest in ever listening to (my only exposure to his work thus far being "Loser" and "E-Pro"). My buddy Sam and I somehow slipped by thousands of eager Canadians, racked with excitement, crowding the Osheaga mainstage, all waiting for a glimpse of this folky, rapping, rambling oddity. The plan was to go see a bit of the Beck show, catch part of Angel Haze's set, and then hustle over to the electronic stage to catch the DJ supergroup C2C. Then the sky opened up. Serious downpour. Streaks of lightning lit up the Montreal skyline on the other side of the lake. It was like some higher force didn't want Beck to perform. The gods themselves didn't want me to come into contact with the guy. A half an hour passed from when he was supposed to start the show. Just before we were ready to completely give up on Beck for good and leave a cheery family of Ottawans we had befriended that had made our time waiting in the rain a little less unbearable, a pale, fedora wearing figure emerged.
Over the next 90 minutes Beck proceeded to wash my entire skeptical outlook clean. He shape shifted from genre to genre, a sonic chameleon. He only let up for one minute, and it was to acknowledge how amazing the fireworks and lightning were that shined overhead. Already an established figure in the music industry for years, Beck had nothing to prove that night, especially not to two silly, overly critical teenagers from Newton, Massachusetts. But watching him play his music, you could tell he knew no other way to play than with full determination. Maybe that's because he is a natural showman, or maybe it's because he started his career knowing that no one would give him the time of day, just like we weren't willing to, unless he gave the audience something really special to watch. Beck made me a believer that night, and it was more than enough to convince me to give a few of his studio albums a shot.
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Mellow Gold- With an arsenal that includes slide guitar, a romping, stomping rhythm section, and buckets of feedback, Mellow Gold transformed Beck Hansen, an obscure noise-rock artist, into a sensation. While "Loser" alone put Beck on the radar, it would be criminal to overlook the rest of this album. The very next song after "Loser, "Pay No Mind (Snoozer)," is a slow acoustic strummer that completely rejects all of the commercial success that Beck foresaw receiving from his first hit. Comprised of mostly chaotic compositions like "Soul Suckin Jerk" and "Sweet Sunshine," Mellow Gold sounds like it was belched out of the dingiest, dustiest, chasm of the Southwest. It comes to a close with "Blackhole," a song that rides out peacefully into the sunset, until the very end, where a moment of silence is followed by what sounds like the record trying to self-destruct.
Odelay- In what very well may be one of the better products of artistic risk taking in recent music history, Beck further delves into toying with far-out instrumentation here. If Mellow Gold has a geographic location (Bumfuck, USA), Beck's increased experimentation takes Odelay completely off the map. We're taken on a series of endless left turns, like on "Lord Only Knows," a song that starts with a deathly scream and goes on to sound like a lost track from the Rolling Stones' Let It Bleed. The stretch of "Derelict," a sitar infused trip, "Novacane," a hodgepodge of different grooves and noises orbiting Beck's mind, and "Jackass," a beautiful song with a crystal clear melody, might be enough to short circuit your brain. Just when you think super sly "Where It's At" is too cool for its own good, in comes a robotic voice bleeping away, "Two turntables and a microphone!" Fat bass lines layer the circusy organ sampled from Sly and the Family Stone's "Life" on "Sissyneck." He ties everything up perfectly on "Ramshackle," where he tries to hide with someone (who knows who) in the comfort and safety of his music. It's so intimate that it almost feels like he's recording it from his kitchen table, as he sings, "So take off your coat/ Put a song in your throat/ Let the dead-beats pound all around." Pretty mature stuff for a guy who had previously written a song entitled, "Fuckin With My Head (Mountain Dew Rock)."
Midnight Vultures- Beck puts on his dancing shoes on Midnight Vultures. Only Beck would start an album off with a funky horn-filled thrill ride called "Sexx Laws," complete with a banjo break. He does a pretty damn fine Prince impression on "Nicotine and Gravy." He takes a stab at Diddy style production on part of "Hollywood Freaks." Midnight Vultures is Beck leading us on a wild goose chase through urban streets and back alleys. Every song is a dare, testing the limitations of exactly how strange things can get before people stop moving their feet. It all leads up to "Debra," which now seems like the prototypical Flight of The Concords song. "I went to get with you/ And your sister/ I think her name is Debra," he belts, making him a perfect three for three so far on album closers.
Sea Change- The album cover to Sea Changes is very telling. Beck is a wide eyed observer for much of this album, far more passive here than ever before. He might be stripping down some of the craziness that comes with his earlier works, but that doesn't make Sea Changes any less imaginative. Nothing is soiled or skewed here. Even the twang of the guitar on "Side of The Road" that is so reminiscent of past Beck albums sounds clearer and crisper this time around. As for the lush orchestral arrangements, like the one found on "Paper Tiger," it was only a matter of time. On Sea Changes, Beck shows that he is much more than a young and rowdy twenty something, and that he has the ability to age gracefully. Let the golden age begin.
Guero- What genre of music was left for Beck to conquer going into Guero? The answer is nothing that you would actually want to here from him, as Beck just sort of does Beck and lays down some solid tunes on this one. "E-Pro" and "Go It Alone" are just about as badass as Beck can possibly get. "Que Onda Guero" is one of his most solid attempts at hip-hop to date. If there's anything to say about Guero, it's that it moves. It's a definite head-bobber. The hispanic influence, which is present in much of the Los Angeles native's music, cannot be denied here (see "Earthquake Weather"). But none of what surfaces is a dramatic change in tone for Beck. This particular collection of songs never commits to some sort of bold, new style. While Beck seems to reinvent himself on nearly every album he's made up to this point, Guero takes the good pieces of all of those past experiments and puts them together to make a really diverse, fun listen.
The Information- While clearly serving as a meditation on machinery and computing in modern society, Beck never lets the concept behind The Information get in the way of its music. In other words, the digital age theme only makes appearances when it's convenient, and it's never too distracting. He takes a cerebral approach to the biggest question of all in "Think I'm In Love." "Motorcade" is full of building madness, while "The Information" reeks of an eery acceptance. "New Round" tries to find simplicity, trying to ignore the technological whirling going on in the background. Sprinkled in are a few classic Beck "walkin' down the street" grooves ("Elevator Music", "No Complaints"). Overall, The Information probably isn't anyone's favorite Beck album, but any fan of his will find most or all of its 62 minutes enjoyable.
Being the last of the six selections I chose to listen to, it saddened me to see the last few seconds of The Information tick down to its end. Luckily, less than a month stands between the world and Morning Phase, Beck's first studio album in over five years. Here's hoping that it can live up to all of his other fine work.
