Beck

Beck's debut release introduced the world to his lo-fi, psychedelic folk, and Funk jams. On the strength of the single "Loser" this decidedly non-commercial recording became quite successful. An across-the-board collection of freakout narratives and good songs, this home-recorded album lacks the sheen of "Odelay," and is all the better for it.

Whether by preference or rationalization, slacker victims trumpet their dropout status
with dilapidated jeans, greasy hair and a sarcastic, defeatist posture. Enter 23-year-old
Beck singing, "I'm a loser, baby, so why don't you kill me?" on "Loser," the ultracatchy
opening track on this fascinating debut. Just to underline the point, a sampled George Bush
whines, "I'm a driver. I'm a winner." Wielding a drum machine, a sampler, an aco... More >

His clip file is home to a bigheaded kid who's memorized Bob Dylan's Playboy interview, a slacker version of the Pretentious *ssh*l*--here a folkie there a punk everywhere an image-slinger (with absurdist tendencies, mais oui). But his album barely contains an exuberant experimenter whose verbiage coheres on record--either because he knows records are history or because repetition tamps down the loose ends. He's a folkie-punk version of, well, the Young Bob Dylan, except that he also loves hooks enough to cast his net wider than the Young David Johansen, finding them everywhere from an electric sitar to an illicitly taped tirade from a "Vietnam vet playin' air guitar" downstairs. Full of fun and loaded with 'tude, he doesn't care what you think of him and makes you love it, right down to the nose-thumbing bummer dirges that close each side. Proving how cool you are by making an album that sounds like sh*t is easy. Proving how cool you are by making an album that comes this close to sounding like sh*t is damn hard--unless you're damn talented. (Grade - A)