In his 15-year career, Beck Hansen has undergone almost as many changes as a Gok Wan-reared chameleon and established himself as the epitome of post-modern pop cool. He began his career as a lo-fi experimentalist, before moving on to slacker hip hop-cum-boho blues, psychedelic ’60s songcraft, retro funk/Tropicalia, confessional quasi-folk and wonky electronica, reworking various elements of these on his two most recent albums.
One imagines that his latest might have been a difficult record to make, not because Beck had run out of ideas (as if), but because the kaleidoscopic patchwork that always marked out his play area has now lured others into its groovily bricolaged space. Most notably Gnarls Barkley, whose Danger Mouse produced ‘Modern Guilt’. It’s a winningly sweet, often engagingly funky affair, that again revisits various points along Beck’s career path, mixing both the classic (the orchestral pop of ‘Pet Sounds’ and the Beatles’ white album) and the contemporary (broken beats, looped FX and chattering electronics, grungey guitar, eccentric mixes, an in-your-ear intimacy and minimalist distance).
Applying the same ‘psychedelic soul’ tag here as has been slapped on Gnarls Barkley isn’t ridiculous, but Beck’s sonic punches are softer, his lyrical concerns very different. As the title suggests, ‘Modern Guilt’ sees issues ecological (as on ‘Gamma Ray’ and ‘Chemtrails’) and existential (‘Soul of a Man’, ‘Volcano’) high on Beck’s agenda, possibly because he’s now a father of two. Not that it’s a ‘serious’ LP; Beck’s playful intelligence has always been a strength and this is another hybrid triumph for the still-cool kid on the block.
