by Morgan Clendaniel

Beck, Guero
Two Stars

There is no question that Beck has consistently been one of the most innovative musicians of the past decade or so. Innovation has become entrenched as an integral part of Beck’s musical persona. So, while his new album, Guero, seems to try to combine various aspects of each of his previous reinventions, it seems distinctly un-Beck like. Instead of moving forward, Beck is standing pat, gathering his various incarnations into one semi-cohesive unit. While this sometimes makes for interesting and exciting music, it more often makes for confusion.

Of course, this is Beck we’re talking about; as the creator behind some of the most exciting and beloved music of the past ten or fifteen years, he has to be treated with a modicum of respect. And for the most part, Beck does little to lose this respect. However, he does the unexpected, and instead of furthering his breadth of musical accomplishments he gives us new versions of things we’ve heard before. What results in an album that features mostly songs that you could hear more exciting versions of on other Beck albums, plus a few songs worth of true brilliance and, sadly, a few moments of musical disaster.

Re-united with the Dust Brothers, producers of Odelay, most of the songs feature the neo-hip hop production pastiche that brought Beck to national attention in the mid-90s. When this production is brought to the forefront, the songs suffer. “Hell Yes” combines the white b-boy lyrical schematic of Odelay with the off-kilter funk vibe of Midnight Vultures, with almost unlistenable results. The chirping sampled voices and porn soundtrack beat sound like a track that was thankfully left off Odelay. “Hell Yes” almost sounds as if it’s some sort of satirical “Beck” song that a comedy writer came up with. And that doesn’t even begin to cover “Que Onda Guero,” a sort of bilingual “Sweater Song” that unravels right about as Beck raps the opening couplet: “Here comes the vegetable man / in the vegetable van.”

Most of the songs on Guero feature sounds that will sound oddly familiar to even not-very-devoted Beck fan. Take for example “Farewell Ride.” Notice the bluesy lyrical form and guitar riff, straight from “One Foot in the Grave.” The lethargic, semi-sanctimoniously dour lyrics? Sounds like “Sea Change.” There’s a general “Mutations” vibe in there, too. Or, “Scarecrow,” which cuts directly from “Mutations”-esque folksy verses to an “Odelay” inspired chorus, complete with distorted vocals. It’s like Beck recorded an album of Beck and mashed it up with Beck. It’s probably a little unfair to describe every song on Guero as a combination of styles and ideas explored in Beck’s previous albums. What artist’s music doesn’t reflect the ground he or she has already covered? But what is bothersome is the lack of anything new. There are few moments when a song presents anything that sounds like something we haven’t heard from Beck before.

These few moments come when Beck adds a pop sensibility that seems new and fresh. The third track, “Girl,” is an excellent three minute pop song. It’s pretty standard, but Beck puts a fresh spin on it, and it sounds like nothing much else in his back catalog, making it stand out in more ways than one. “Rental Car” features an exciting “la la la” sample that wouldn’t sound out of place on, say, whatever piece of pseudo-dance craziness that Gwen Stefani is currently thinking up. “Earthquake Weather” and “Emergency Exit” round out the short list of songs that actually manage to grab the listener’s attention.

The remaining nine songs on the album vary in levels of excitement and in obvious backsliding toward previous Beck work. It’s hard to find much to say about them, because they’re almost too bland to generate any comment. They might be nice to have on in the background at a dinner party, or something. What might make Guero more appealing is if you look at it as a Beck greatest hits album. But instead of putting his actual hits on it, he just created a conglomerate of various Beck songs so as to fit the disparate styles comfortably on one album.

For a musician, not re-inventing your entire musical style with every new album shouldn’t really be a strike against you. Most just find something that works and stick with it. But when you’ve made your career by doing something shocking and innovative with every new release, the expectations are higher. Maybe it’s the new marriage, maybe it’s the Scientology, who knows? But something kept Guero from doing what every Beck album has done. Maybe it’s just Beck gathering his forces before dropping another bomb of innovation sometime in the future, and in ten years Guero will be considered an important step in his oeuvre. Let’s all hope.