  Souled Out:
Beck
Midnite Vultures
(DGC)
CD Review by Tom Fredrickson
One of my prized
musical possessions is an LP called Souled
Out, released by K-Tel circa 1975. This
compilation of one-hit wonders, no-hit blunders,
hidden gems (George McRae's "I Can't Leave
You Alone" is even better than "Rock
Your Baby") and R&B landmarks gave even
me, the whitest boy on the block, entree into the
exotic world of funk and soul.
The seductive
cross-section of styles on Souled Out lives
on in Beck's Midnite Vultures,
which is a slice-and-dice tour of the last 30
years of African American pop: from the staccato
horn accents, wah-wah guitars, and gurgling
clavinets of high-sheen soul to the creepy busted
gamelan sonics of mid-80s hip hop to the
declamatory rhymes of rap. This tour de style has
enough hooks per minute to satisfy the staunchest
old school fanatic and makes Midnite Vultures the
most immediate and immediately enjoyable Beck album yet.
Beck being Beck, however, this is not
merely a genre exercise. Typically Beckian lyrics
keep things off-kilter throughout. (My favorite
but by no means the strangest or funniest line
is, "You look good in that sweater and that
aluminum crutch.") But it's the music -- as
opposed to the concepts, ironies, or beats --
that consistently surprises. When the banjo and
pedal steel drop from out of nowhere into the
middle of "Sexx Laws," Beck finds a way to fit them
seamlessly into the mix. And the celestial choir
that drifts into "Get Real Paid" feels
like the perfect counterpoint to the weird white
boy technofunk of that song. These jump cuts
don't seem like cheap jokes (something I've
accused Beck of in the past) so much
as epiphanies, unforeseen but in retrospect
perfect.
The plentiful
musical ideas on Midnite Vultures means
that these songs take you on unexpected journeys.
The druggy Sly Stone bass riff that opens
"Nicotine & Gravy" inspires three
or four successive vocal lines, which Beck
eventually stacks up like a fugue before
Arabic-sounding synth lines lead the song off in
a whole new direction. This is the most
meticulously crafted record of Beck's career, and
it's also one hell of a lot of fun.
The momentum and
confidence of the album are impressive. Barely a
sound seems out of place -- the most surprising
of which is Beck's voice. Think of vocals on past
Beck records and you'll probably call up that
utterly affectless drawl of his -- or maybe that
inhuman vocorder rallying cry, "Two
turntables and a microphone." On Midnite
Vultures Beck leaps into a whole new range --
literally -- by adopting an expressive falsetto
that bridges the gap between Eugene Record of the
Chi-Lites and Prince. Like generations of white
men before him, Beck has found something in black
music that allows him to say things -- and say
them in a way -- that he isn't able to otherwise.
Beck seems to have discovered a new kind of joy,
sexiness, even tenderness in his music.
But things get
complicated when the white boy blacks it up --
even if it's Beck, whose previous embrace of the
blues, if somewhat dutiful, is well established.
The line between homage and parody in music is a
thin one, and it's reasonable to ask if Beck
crosses it in songs where he boasts of
"packin' heat" or what exactly he's up
to with choruses thrown out in his best ghetto
drawl. In one way the album closing
"Debra" is Midnite Vultures's
most impressive cut: a full-blown soul melodrama
worthy of the Stylistics. And yet it's also the
most troubling cut, with Beck sounding like no
one so much as Mick Jagger doing his best
ironic-cum-sincere minstrel falsetto. With Midnite
Vultures Beck enters the hall of mirrors
where race meets culture, and if it says nothing
else, the album makes it clear that our most
vital music continues to pick at the bones of the
blues.
Email Tom Fredrickson
Click here for
Beck concert photos!
Writer and Art
Historian, Tom Fredrickson, lives and works in
the Chicago area. His contributions to Pandomag.com have included essays on Frank Sinatra and The Pretenders, amongst others. He has
also contributed a recipe for delectable Circus Peanut
Margaritas.
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