I’ll dispense with all cod Post-Modernist shenanigans – the chameleon-like inferences and the half-arsed references to popular culture that Beck usually stirs up and instead play it simple. You bought ‘Mutations’? You’re halfway there.
Building on (or narrowing the field still further – depending on which way you look at it) the back to the farm folk weariness of Beck’s Pre-Vulture album, Sea-Change tips the scales again in favour of the ponderous, sepia toned glory of bluegrass psychedelics; as far removed from the last album as Beck’s own fault-line consciousness is from our own mundane reality.
Whether or not you’ve ever had the confidence to trade in your snarling indie licks for the dung-beetle whine of the peddle-steel guitar, you’re going to be surprised with the distinctly unironic way the artist formerly known as Thomas Pynchon whips out and appropriates the traditional. There’s even lyrics your Mother could connect with for heavens sake.
Reunited with Nigel Godrich for the first time since 1998’s ‘Mutations’, the mood is consistently serene, from the gentle, delicious ‘Golden Age’, through the quiet resignation of ‘Guess I’m Doing Fine’ to the lightly skipping daydream of ‘Lost Cause’. Unfortunately however, the monotone attitude of the album can be perilously testing over the 12 or so tracks laid down. Whilst it would have been inappropriate and artistically unworthy to have thrown in a waspish pop-meddler like ‘Devils Haircut’ into the brine, you do find yourself idling uncomfortably on the skip button on a number of occasions: not because there are any significantly bad tracks on the album but because it’s so evenly paced that the natural inclination for anybody these days is to run on ahead.
But herein lies its beauty: the album forces you to slow down and admire the sunset. It may be slow, it may be a longer haul still back home, but you’ll be glad you persevered.
Zen-like and ultimately satisfying – your soul will thank you for it.