Today we arrive at another of those ‘Oddball’ misfits whose music I enjoy despite the fact that it sounds like nothing else in my collection.
Beck defies categorization not just among my musical preferences but in general. Early in his career, he blended an alternative singer-songwriter style with hip-hop and electronica, but was just as comfortable releasing an acoustic folk album. He followed the kaleidoscopic pastiche of Odelay with the somber mope balladry of Mutations, then shifted gears again with the dance party of Midnite Vultures.
Beck simply never stays in one place long enough for anyone to stick a label on him.
For the purposes of my musical genome, Beck definitely delivers on the ‘Melancholy’ front (as on Sea Change, my favorite of his albums, and Mutations, from which today’s SOTD was pulled). He’s not a good fit for ‘Piano Men,’ ‘Pure Pop’ or ‘Country Plus.’ But he does earn a check in the ‘Folk Rock Derivative’ category.
The trains are wrecked
The night is younger than us
Nowhere is anywhere else
You keep to yourself
Stirring the dregs where I have laid
The exit signs are flashing
Dead ends they won’t come to life anymore
I pledge the rest
I should have guessed
Your love was hanging by threads
Tongues tied under the moon
My love is a room of broken bottles
And tangled webs
The misers wind their minds
Like clocks that grind their gears
On and on
And if it’s meant
Some accident
Some coincidence
Crumbs fall out of the sky
When you wander by
The dust clouds blow
Nobody’s home
Oh won’t you lay my bags
Upon the funeral fire and sing it again
Oh won’t you lay my bags
Upon the funeral fire and sing it again
Meet Me In Montauk 
Today’s song actually has a twisted country vibe. I am fascinated by Beck. I don’t always love the directions he has gone, but I do admire his talent. I like him best in his acoustic singer/songwriter mode. (shocker, I know!)