Spring Break
Beck's "Guero" is predictably irreverent, and irresistable
Alberto Patino
Issue date: 4/25/05 Section: Arts and Entertainment
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The latest from Beck Hansen is an exemplary work of exactly what we have come to expect from Señor Perdedor. It is utterly irreverent, completely idiosyncratic, and another welcome addition to a series of quirkily brilliant electronic folk albums. But is what he does folk? Hip-hop? Funk? New wave? Delta blues? Satiric R and B? The answer is yes. And yet, his music cannot be boxed in any one of these categories; all of his works tend to be beautifully eccentric permutations of folk tradition. Imagine if you will, a Californian stoner troubadour armed with slide guitar, accompanied by friendly robots, hard working Mexicans (or friendly Mexicans, hard working robots, etc.), Japanese waitresses and the turntable talents of the Dust Brothers, and you might be just outside of the ballpark....crawling around with a corndog, flashlight, and a piece of cardboard for windmills, backspins, and rudimentary defense against a family of starved beavers.
This helpful metaphor having been stated, Beck apparently has a Midas touch for constructing sonic and lyrical montages out of seemingly disparate musical genres, where for a lot of other songwriters, any attempt just ends up falling on its face, completely banal and kitschy. By contrast, in Beck's world, it's only natural that b-boys pop and lock to tropicalia freak-outs, and all the while single-toothed bearded codgers blow single notes out of boy scout harmonicas as they fervently approve. Sounds aloof? Aloof sounds? Inaccessible? This is the microcosm that comprises "Guero." And hearing is believing.
If Beck's last album "Sea Change" was a sweetly melancholic document of a heart rending break-up, then this is his new and telling rebound of hope. By default it not only convinces us that he's so over her, but it's also a glute'-smackin', head bobbin' celebration, a forward moving party-mode ode to Chicano Los Angeles, dust, bones, skeletons and his shiny new "sunshine girl." Amidst these thirteen songs we are bombarded by stupid-fresh beats, memory-staining bass grooves, tastefully placed analog keyboards, witty and well crafted lyrics, and a distinctly suave and assured vocal delivery.
This helpful metaphor having been stated, Beck apparently has a Midas touch for constructing sonic and lyrical montages out of seemingly disparate musical genres, where for a lot of other songwriters, any attempt just ends up falling on its face, completely banal and kitschy. By contrast, in Beck's world, it's only natural that b-boys pop and lock to tropicalia freak-outs, and all the while single-toothed bearded codgers blow single notes out of boy scout harmonicas as they fervently approve. Sounds aloof? Aloof sounds? Inaccessible? This is the microcosm that comprises "Guero." And hearing is believing.
If Beck's last album "Sea Change" was a sweetly melancholic document of a heart rending break-up, then this is his new and telling rebound of hope. By default it not only convinces us that he's so over her, but it's also a glute'-smackin', head bobbin' celebration, a forward moving party-mode ode to Chicano Los Angeles, dust, bones, skeletons and his shiny new "sunshine girl." Amidst these thirteen songs we are bombarded by stupid-fresh beats, memory-staining bass grooves, tastefully placed analog keyboards, witty and well crafted lyrics, and a distinctly suave and assured vocal delivery.
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