Friday 10 April 2020

The 500 - #436 - Beck - Sea Change

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 

Album # 436

Album Title: Sea Change
Artist: Beck
Genre: Folk Rock / Experimental Rock
Recorded: March-May, 2002
Released: September, 2002
My age at release: 37
How familiar was I with it before this week: Not at all
Song I am putting on my Spotify Mix: Paper Tiger 

(Selected by friends and colleague Jay Dubois, who also contributes as a guest blogger.) 

In the spring of 2000, things were going swimmingly for Los Angeles-born musician Beck Hanson (born: Bek David Campbell). His successful tour, supporting his seventh record, Midnite Vultures, was coming to an end and he planned a well-deserved hiatus. However, three weeks before his 30th birthday he discovered that his fiancee and girlfriend of nine years, Leigh Limon, had been having an affair. The relationship ended and Beck lapsed into a period of sadness and introspection which ultimately fuelled his creativity. In the span of a week, he had composed most of this record's twelve songs.
His previous albums featured a blend of styles ranging from the psychedelic to hip-hop to country and funk. This record was different. It was simpler, favouring acoustic instrumentation, and he abandoned his typical cryptic or ironic lyricism. Instead, he wrote words that dealt directly with the anguish and betrayal he was experiencing.

I was a fan of Beck's music in the 90s. I owned both his first record Mellow Gold (1993) and his most commercially successful release Odelay (1996) which appears on The 500 list at #306. However, he was one of those artists whose career fell off my radar. Consequently, Sea Change (2002) is a record with which I had no familiarity.
Earlier this week, my wife and I were washing the groceries I'd gathered on a massive shopping trip. The notion of laundering packages is part of a new reality in the midst of this Covid-19 pandemic. I decided to put on Sea Change as the background to this unusual domestic necessity. My first listen had me rapt. That evening, while reviewing the school work of my Grade 7 students through the class' online platform, I listened to it three more times. Eventually, I celebrated my delight with this record on Twitter.
Friend and colleague, Jay Dubois, immediately responded, saying it was a "personal fave". I invited him to select a song for "The 500 Playlist" or even guest blog. To my delight, he agreed to both requests.

Here is what he shared:

Beck is a chameleon.  His multi-decade, prolific discography plays out like a randomized, genre-hopping playlist.  For every album that is created with his well-known cut and paste, chop-suey-style sampling techniques (see: Odelay) he takes a left turn and leans heavily on his singer-songwriter skill-set (see: Mutations).  Sea Change follows the funky odyssey of Midnight Vultures and caught fans off guard with this personal reflection on a relationship break-up.

While often composed in minor scales with a touch of sadness, this album is a musical feast.  Guitar, drums and bass do the heavy lifting here. However, you’ll sometimes find quiet percussive flavouring from xylophone, piano, hand drums and Middle Eastern instrumentation. The powerful use of strings on this album is truly a sonic celebration. Put on a pair of headphones and play Paper Tiger. You’ll be greeted by a slinky bass line with a laid back, yet propelling, groove. Unexpected string orchestration swirls in through the track like a serpent, laying in wait to add some world music flare and striking at times, taking over the melody with beautiful flourishes. 

The whole album is an emotional tour-de-force and earned the Best Alternative Music Grammy in 2003. A song like Sunday Sun, while maintaining a traditional song structure, holds on by a thread at the end, truly using sound like a feeling. Only an artist like Beck can dabble cross-genre like this with such believability and listenability.  It’s unfortunate that art like this requires heartbreak as the muse.

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