Having slowed down and mellowed out a year earlier on Mutations, Beck reversed course in 1999 and released Midnite Vultures, a neon slice of pure electrified funk.
More than anything, he spends the length of this fabulous album staking his claim as the white Prince, especially on epic closer ‘Debra,’ an homage to every smooth R&B booty call song ever written (though certainly the first to feature the lyrics “Lady, step inside my Hyundai”).
Two years after Odelay took the music world by storm, Beck released a low-key, acoustic album that featured none of the kitchen-sink experimentation for which he’d become known. Mutations is a mix of straight-forward country, blues and folk songs (with a tropicalia tune appropriately named ‘Tropicalia’ thrown in for good measure) and it was the first indication of exactly how versatile a songwriter Beck is.
Mutations is a decidedly downbeat album, filled with songs about loneliness and despair. Here’s a typical lyric, from the song ‘Dead Melodies’: “Night birds will cackle, rotting like apples on trees, sending their dead melodies to me.” This isn’t the last time Beck would wallow in beautiful misery on record… it’s something he excels at and would return to on his best album (which I’ll get to soon enough).
Buoyed by hit single ‘Loser,’ Beck’s Mellow Gold became an unexpected Platinum-selling success, but it was his next album — 1996’s Odelay — that really put him on the map.
Odelay is one of those albums that come along every five or ten years and receive credit for transforming the musical landscape. But I don’t think you can point to a string of artists who picked up the mantle the way you can with Nirvana’s Nevermind or Radiohead’s The Bends… not artists anybody has heard of, anyway. Beck’s fusion of folk, hip-hop, blues, country, you-name-it, felt brand new and defied imitation.
Through 514 songs on this blog I’ve somehow managed to feature Beck only once, which is strange because he’s one of the most innovative, talented songwriters and performers in my collection.
I’ve held back from featuring individual songs because I’ve always felt him worthy of a theme week and his number just never got called.
Until now. I’ll feature songs from each of Beck’s nine studio albums over the next two weeks, starting with the hit that first propelled him to fame.
It’s pretty well-established that breakup albums are often better than stuff written when the artist is loving life. Great art comes from turmoil and pain. Whether it’s Bob Dylan’s Blood on the Tracks, Bruce Springsteen’s Tunnel of Love or Lyle Lovett’s The Road to Ensenada, heartbreak invariably results in a musician’s best work.
Beck’s Sea Change is no exception.
