Beck
Mutations
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Beck
Mutations
Geffen, 1998
RiYL: Donovan, Nirvana's Unplugged In New York, Gomez |
Cold brains, unmoved / untouched, unglued / Alone at last / no thoughts, no mind.
The opening lines slowly shuffle out of Beck Hansen's mouth, announcing an enjoyable departure from his sample-ridden, hip-hop induced ramblings circa 1996's album of the year Odelay. He's not going for the adrenaline punch of "Novacane", and he's not thumping out hit singles such as "Where It's At," or "Devil's Haircut."
Instead, Beck is casting his own brand of Rubber Soul, replete with quixotic lyrics, faraway sitars and even (at moments) a peculiar U.K.-tinged accent. At the mixing boards, Beck's dropped the raucous Dust Brothers and picked up Nigel Godrich, who co-produced Radiohead's dreamy masterpiece OK Computer. Although Godrich doesn't bust out alien spaceships, robotic diaries or spastic laser beams, he does add a haze of distilled spook with which Beck casts his folksy edge.
"Nobody's Fault But My Own," "We Live Again" and "Static" are the highlights of Mutations -- three songs that perfectly frame Beck as the more sedated symbol of Generation X. At many moments, the album is less a throwback to Beck's 1994 indie release One Foot In The Grave than it is a continuation of Nirvana's acoustic experiment Unplugged In New York, entrancing listeners with bleak sketches of a disenchanted land. On "Static," he sings, "The holy mountains / They look so tired / It's a perfect day to lock yourself inside."
There is no way to conceal this singer/songwriter's connection to a longer line of acoustic junkies. The Neil Young-inspired harmonica on "Cold Brains" and Highway 61 Revisited jangle of "Bottle Of Blues" provide warm spots in an album haunted by artsy coldness. But still, a higher-brow-than-thou attitude pervades the album, as most of the songs' words are broken thoughts and half-baked streams of (un)consciousness:
Gazing alone through the sex-painted windows / Dredging the night / Drunk libertines / Stink like colognes from a nest fangled wasteland / Love is a plague / In a mix-matched parade
Here, on the soothing "We Live Again," Beck is a line short of pure genius. It's as if he's got Elvis Costello's sharp wit cut up with Michael Stipe's penchant for toying with meaningful nonsense.
Thankfully, Beck doesn't take himself too seriously, as many notable artists, including the aforementioned '80s icons, are want to do. He leaves in the mistakes, mumblings between verses and generally discarded studio noise. And he undercuts the serious tone of Mutations with a final unlisted track that screams and rattles its way toward hidden-track obscurity.
Beck puts himself on the cover, wrapped in cellophane, an object of teenage worship as well as tongue-in-cheek laughter. Like the rest of the liner notes' odd images, the front is an enigmatic picture put on display as half artistic statement/half inside joke. The photo almost puts too much distance between the listener and the eternally "with-it" Beck. Likewise, the album's exotic lyrics and ultra-cool vocals often make it seem like the self-proclaimed "loser" has gotten one too many enraptured critics puffing him up with positive reviews.
Still, Mutations reminds us that Beck has always been about style and attitude in the tradition of many a rock star before him. And it's not really clear whether he should be punished or praised. Regardless, Beck definitely earns credit for countering the success of Odelay's two turntables with an album devoted to soft, sliding melodies, gentle strumming and compelling, yet understated, nonsense.
BEN FRENCH | Ben founded NATN in the winter of 1998-1999 with fellow IU alums Troy Carpenter and Jonathan Cohen. During the day time, he's working for Nielsen Business Media, publisher of Billboard. Ben's favorite acts include Bruce Springsteen, The Clash, Sonic Youth, Elvis Costello, Talking Heads, Rolling Stones, and the Beach Boys.