I intended to pick up my Decades series this week by moving on to 1987, as I dug into the excellent 1977 lineup a few months ago. Then I realized I somehow skipped the final year of the 6’s. So I’m correcting that oversight over the next several weeks and exploring the albums of 2006.
As usual, I will count down my personal favorite albums from the year before exploring critically-acclaimed and/or commercially successful albums with which I’m less familiar.
#10 – The Information – Beck
The tenth album by one of our most versatile artists, The Information found Beck re-teaming with producer Nigel Godrich, with whom he made two of his mellower albums (1998’s Mutations and 2002’s Sea Change).
Beck says Godrich told him he wanted to work on a hip-hop record, and the result was this eclectic collection that splits the difference between their earlier collaborations and Beck’s earlier work.
I’m actually going to leave it there, because I see that Beck is dropping his 15th studio album in a couple of months and it occurs to me that I’ve never given his catalog the full attention it deserves.
So stay tuned, in the not too distant future, for a Beck Deep Dive that will dig into The Information along with the rest of his impressive discography.
Strange ways coming today
I put a dollar in my pocket and I threw it away
Been a long time since a federal dime
Made a jukebox sound like a mirror in my mind
Need to comb my worries, fix my thoughts
Throw my hopes like a juggernaut walks
Now let down souls can’t feel no rhythm
Sorry entertainers like aerobics victims
Hybrid people light a wooded matchstick
Toxic fumes and the burning plastic
Beats are broken, bones are spastic
Boombox talking with a southern accent (Hi!)
Voodoo curses, bible tongues
Voices coming from the mangled lungs
Give me some grits, some get-down shit
Don’t need a good reason to let anything rip
[Chorus 1]
Radio’s cold, soul is infected
(One by one I’ll knock you out)
God is alone, hardware defective
(One by one I’ll knock you out)
[Verse 2]
Mr. Microphone, making all the damage felt
Like a laser manifesto, make a mannequin melt
There’s people phoning in like it’s unlimited minutes
Going through the motions just to say that they did it
Treadmill’s running underneath their feet
So they feel like they’re going somewhere, but they’re not
So let’s put boots on the warehouse floor
Coming to you like a rope on a chainstore
Throwing equipment from a moving van
Grab a microphone like a utility man
Now fix the beat, now break the rest
Make a kick drum sound like an SOS
Get a tow-truck ’cause it’s after dark
And the dance floor’s full but everybody’s double-parked
[Chorus 2]
Cell phone’s dead, lost in the desert
(One by one I’ll knock you out)
Eye of the sun is out of its socket
(One by one I’ll knock you out)
[Post-Chorus]
(One by one)
This jam is real… that’s right
[Outro]
Eye of the sun
Eye of the sun
Eye of the sun
Ahhhhhhhhhh
Meet Me In Montauk 
I feel like you’ve posted a fair amount of Beck over the years, but perhaps a deep dive would still be edifying.