Strange as it may seem given his electronica dabbling over the past 15 years, indie wunderkind Beck began his career as a folkie. His debut album, "Stereopathetic Soulmanure," had as many country-tinged ballads as it did the mad excursions into rock, pop and hip-hop for which Beck has become acclaimed, while his major label premiere, "Mellow Gold," still found the artist regularly in acoustic mode. To casual listeners, 2002's "Sea Change" marked just that, with Beck pairing finger-plucked ballads with expansive soundscapes.
However, those familiar with Beck's background found the return to his folk roots on "Change" unsurprising. One record in particular truly enshrines Beck's down-home influences: The long out-of-print "One Foot in the Grave," released only four months after "Gold," represents the peak of Beck's stripped down folk sound. Unfortunately, much of the singer's vaunted style and humor are lost in the transition to the genre.
Beck's penchant for combining bizarre lyrics with simple melodies carries over from the prior two albums. It was lines like, "Put those sunglasses on your hips/ Mayonnaise on your lips," and "Don't carve no happy face on my tombstone/ Don't put no coupons on my grave," that established Beck as the clown prince of indie pop. Regrettably, these choice gems are the exception to the rule when it comes to the album's songs. Most of the tracks are meandering country and blues-infused throwaways with a rare trace of wit barely hiding the lack of quality.
Apart from Beck's distinctive vocals, "Grave" feels like a collection of demos cobbled together by a very mediocre band. While it's intriguing to hear Beck play with inarguably the smallest band he has ever worked with, the novelty wears away when every song begins sounding the same. Beck plays with minimal instrumental and vocal backing which, if he was working with stronger material, would bring his layered, humorous lyrics to the fore, as it often did on "Soulmanure." Instead, it exposes the blandness of the writing.
In its original incarnation, "Grave" held 16 tracks, comprising a running length few songwriters would attempt with their best songs. Earlier this year, though, "Grave" was made available to the public for the first time in over a decade. The re-issue contains the original album plus 16 bonus numbers, doubling the track listing and runtime. The extra songs do add some great moments to "Grave," with two versions of "Teenage Wastebasket" ? the darker spiritual cousin of "Loser" ? contributing a much needed rock vibe. Restrained, embryonic versions of the title track (featured on "Soulmanure" as a raucous live recording) and "It's All in Your Mind" (redone with a more intricate, wistful arrangement for "Sea Change") not only augment the track list but also telegraph where Beck has been and where he's going, further demonstrating the status of "Grave" as a largely undiscovered artifact in Beck's catalogue.
Once again, though, the re-release's extra content mainly serves to highlight the wasted potential of the album. Such an extensive amount of added goodies could have made a good record essential listening. Instead, it just makes a dull record spin for twice as long and suffer a protracted demise.
Adam Rowan
One Foot in the Grave
Strange as it may seem given his electronica dabbling over the past 15 years, indie wunderkind Beck began his career as a folkie. His debut album, "Stereopathetic Soulmanure," had as many country-tinged ballads as it did the mad excursions into rock, pop and hip-hop for which Beck has become acclaimed, while his major label premiere, "Mellow Gold," still found the artist regularly in acoustic mode. To casual listeners, 2002's "Sea Change" marked just that, with Beck pairing finger-plucked ballads with expansive soundscapes.
However, those familiar with Beck's background found the return to his folk roots on "Change" unsurprising. One record in particular truly enshrines Beck's down-home influences: The long out-of-print "One Foot in the Grave," released only four months after "Gold," represents the peak of Beck's stripped down folk sound. Unfortunately, much of the singer's vaunted style and humor are lost in the transition to the genre.
Beck's penchant for combining bizarre lyrics with simple melodies carries over from the prior two albums. It was lines like, "Put those sunglasses on your hips/ Mayonnaise on your lips," and "Don't carve no happy face on my tombstone/ Don't put no coupons on my grave," that established Beck as the clown prince of indie pop. Regrettably, these choice gems are the exception to the rule when it comes to the album's songs. Most of the tracks are meandering country and blues-infused throwaways with a rare trace of wit barely hiding the lack of quality.
Apart from Beck's distinctive vocals, "Grave" feels like a collection of demos cobbled together by a very mediocre band. While it's intriguing to hear Beck play with inarguably the smallest band he has ever worked with, the novelty wears away when every song begins sounding the same. Beck plays with minimal instrumental and vocal backing which, if he was working with stronger material, would bring his layered, humorous lyrics to the fore, as it often did on "Soulmanure." Instead, it exposes the blandness of the writing.
In its original incarnation, "Grave" held 16 tracks, comprising a running length few songwriters would attempt with their best songs. Earlier this year, though, "Grave" was made available to the public for the first time in over a decade. The re-issue contains the original album plus 16 bonus numbers, doubling the track listing and runtime. The extra songs do add some great moments to "Grave," with two versions of "Teenage Wastebasket" ? the darker spiritual cousin of "Loser" ? contributing a much needed rock vibe. Restrained, embryonic versions of the title track (featured on "Soulmanure" as a raucous live recording) and "It's All in Your Mind" (redone with a more intricate, wistful arrangement for "Sea Change") not only augment the track list but also telegraph where Beck has been and where he's going, further demonstrating the status of "Grave" as a largely undiscovered artifact in Beck's catalogue.
Once again, though, the re-release's extra content mainly serves to highlight the wasted potential of the album. Such an extensive amount of added goodies could have made a good record essential listening. Instead, it just makes a dull record spin for twice as long and suffer a protracted demise.
