Lunch of Champions

Beck Can Kiss My Ass.

I left 1996 thinking that Beck was God’s choice to carry the torch once grunge died. For a few months, he did just that, as Odelay sent hit after hit to the Billboard Top 20. Then came Mutations (a big snorefest), Midnight Vultures (an amazingly average album), and Sea Change (one of the worst albums I have ever heard).

So, as you might imagine, I was expecting the worst when I first popped Guero into my cd player, which might explain why I think it is surprisingly good. After the last three debacles, it is good to see that Beck has not dropped off the face of the earth. In fact, it seems that he has been honing his songwriting skills and getting back to writing the catchy hooks that made him famous in the first place.

Now, I don’t like it when artists make catchy hooks for the sake of impressing audiences. I can see right through these frail attempts to gain my attention, and I don’t like it. I am offended by it. I like music, because it is an art, not because it is a business. And, while this most recent album by Beck is probably a balance between the two extremes, it isn’t horrible. Indeed, Beck’s talent shines through an album muddied with textbook record company poop. Repeating, boring choruses plague this album from start to finish, but insightful melodies sung over the verses make this album worth cherishing.

Summary: I wouldn’t buy this album, but I might listen to it next time I’m tired and need to chill out.