FEATURE:
Sing It Again
Beck's Mutations at Twenty-Five
_________
ONE I of my favourite artists ever…
IN THIS PHOTO: Beck in Los Angeles in 1996/PHOTO CREDIT: Joseph Cultice
no two Beck albums are the same! I first came across his music when he released Odelay in 1996. I was mesmerised by his experimentation and the sheer range of sounds in his albums. I have followed him pretty loyally since then. The way he can make these eclectic and genre-jumping albums that are quite wild and unpredictable. He can then change tracks altogether and release something beautiful and personal! An album that is among the most celebrated from the maestro is Mutations. Released on 3rd November, 1998, I am looking ahead to the twenty-fifth anniversary of a classic. One of the best albums of the 1990s – from a man responsible for more than a couple! -, I have previously covered Mutations. I want to revisit it ahead of its twenty-fifth anniversary. I will come to some reviews. Beck is, as I said, someone who can make a very bright and crazy album. The very next one might be tuneful and serious. There is no telling what direction he will head in! After 1996’s Odelay and the success that garnered, many might have assumed Beck would continue in that manner. Release another album that had the same spirit and sounds. Instead, Mutations is more comforting and melodic. Last November, Udiscovermusic. highlighted an album recorded in just two weeks. More personal than Odelay, many got to see a new side to Beck on Mutations:
“In the award-winning afterglow of Odelay, Beck Hansen travelled the world, with adventures in the 1997-98 season that took him from the cover of Rolling Stone to the Pyramid Stage at the Glastonbury Festival. Then it was time for another sonic shift that manifested itself in Mutations.
The reception to 1996’s Odelay had been passionate, both critically and commercially. In the UK, he was feted with BRIT and NME Awards; in the US, five MTV Video Music Awards came his way in September 1997. That event was one of many high-profile performance settings that also included the 1997 Mount Fuji Rock Festival near Tokyo and the H.O.R.D.E. Festival, in which he moved across America with Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Morphine, Primus and others.
Beck was an increasing influence on TV and cinema screens, too. That year also had him as a featured guest on Saturday Night Live and performing with Willie Nelson on Jay Leno’s Tonight Show. He ventured into film work: the new song “Feather In Your Cap” appeared alongside music by Sonic Youth, Flaming Lips et al on DGC’s soundtrack of SubUrbia, with a script by Eric Bogosian and adapted from his eponymous play. Then came “Deadweight,” included on the score album of A Life Less Ordinary and nominated for Best Song from a Movie at the 1998 MTV Movie Awards.
A new production collaborator
As Odelay rolled over towards a US double platinum circulation, it was time to get back on record, with a new production collaborator. Beck now teamed with Nigel Godrich, the British producer who had come to the fore with his brilliant coordination of the talents of Oxford, England tastemakers Radiohead. Far from any extended studio contemplation, they recorded Mutations in two weeks.
Working at Ocean Way, the Hollywood studio that proudly declares sales from records made there at one billion units, Beck, Godrich and a crack team of musicians started recording on March 19, 1998 and wrapped on April 3. What emerged was as confident, concise and cutting-edge as one had come to expect, no mere Odelay doppelganger but an even deeper, joyfully melodious exploration of Beck’s individuality.
Immediately after completion and before release, he was on to new challenges that included the premiere of a performance art piece featuring his grandfather, Beck and Al Hansen: Playing With Matches, at the Santa Monica Museum of Art in California. On May 24, on his only UK date of the year, a remarkable triple bill combination saw Beck and John Martyn playing at the homecoming show, at Haigh Hall in Wigan, by the British modern rock champions of the time The Verve.
Beck’s own summer tour of North America began on June 1, on shows that featured the additional attractions of Sean Lennon and Elliott Smith. On a massive show in New Jersey, this writer had the privilege of seeing Beck, on a bill that also featured Ben Folds Five, playing a triumphant set opening for the all-conquering Dave Matthews Band.
An album of exotic instrumentation
When it was released, on November 3, 1998, Mutations unveiled arrangements by Beck’s father, David Campbell and exotic instrumentation including tamboura, sitar, and the cuica drum. There were also contributions from distinguished players who remain with Hansen to this day, such as keyboard player Roger Manning, bassist Justin Meldal-Johnsen, and drummer Joey Waronker.
The album went straight into the US chart at its No.13 peak, and was gold inside a month. Even if it didn’t go on to mirror the commercial achievements of Odelay, the record overflowed with evidence that Beck was now firmly established as one of the most innovative artists in the world. The following February, Mutations beat Fatboy Slim, Tori Amos, Moby, and Nine Inch Nails to the Grammy Award for Best Alternative Music Performance.
Gone was the sample-heavy hip-hop veneer of his previous triumph, and critics were united in their admiration of Beck’s refusal to take the easy option of repeating himself. “A collection of psychedelic folk-rock and country waltzes that couldn’t have wandered much further from Odelay,” purred the Los Angeles Times in its year-end round-up. “Another fully formed creative facet of Beck we haven’t seen before.”
The NME, meanwhile, advised: “You’d better sit down. Mutations sees Beck replacing the spinning turntable with the acid-rock lightwheel, the concrete streets with the long and winding road, retreating further from glaring expectation into the complex little universe between those fluffy sideburns.
“‘Nobody’s Fault But My Own’ strings its nerves out across those Wichita telegraph poles; ‘Sing It Again‘ is ‘Norwegian Wood’ tinged with rabbit-skinning pedal steel, while the deceptively cheery honky-tonk of ‘O Maria’ casts Beck as saloon showgirl, playfully chucking grizzled cowboys under the chin.”
Beck’s prettiest record?
Rolling Stone’s Nathan Brackett observed the album’s distinctive juxtaposition of dark lyricism (“the night is useless and so are we,” declared ‘O Maria’) and attractive melodies. “The twenty-eight-year-old Beck Hansen’s new album…brims with death, decay and decrepitude,” he wrote. “But in its own peculiar way, it’s also his prettiest record to date.
“On Mutations – recorded in two weeks last spring – Beck stops talking down to his tuneful side. Compared with the funk collage of 1996’s Odelay or the raw anti-folk of 1994’s One Foot in the Grave, this is an album of comfort songs.”
We’ll conclude this entry with David Browne’s appreciation in Entertainment Weekly. “Mutations fulfills Beck’s need to chill out, take things down a notch, and avoid pigeonholing as the white-rap geek with the weird suits,” he said. “To say those goals are admirable is an understatement”.
I guess Beck is impossible to define. He is whatever he writes. With his albums switching between cool and quite out-there, to something much more restrained and heartfelt, it can be hard to pin who this person is. Beck keeps things fresh - and he is someone not necessarily eager to be defined! That is great. Taking people by surprise on 3rd November, 1998, he released this albums that was almost a polar opposite of Odelay. That said, though Mutations does have its madder and more eccentric moments. Stereogum celebrated twenty years of Mutations back in 2018:
“Beck Hansen has had one of the most interesting and singular career arcs of any musician of his generation, and his sixth album, Mutations, marked a turning point in a catalog filled with turning points. It is the album that solidified the idea that Beck is prone to do whatever he wants. Is it also possible this is where we first saw a glimpse of the real Beck, and therefore every time he was chasing down some sort of impulse, the expectation is that this is the mean to which he would inevitably return. Maybe. It is also possible that “real Beck” is yet another guise this chameleon of a performer decided to put on, in the process making us question if “real” really means anything at all.
By 1998, Beck was in the rare position of being both unimpeachably cool and absolutely huge. His 1996 everything-at-once album Odelay was an era-defining smash. He lodged alt-rock radio hits in an era where that still mattered, performed at the Grammys, losing Album Of The Year to Celine Dion. He swept the 1996 Village Voice Pazz & Jop Awards, made the cover of Rolling Stone, and was named the Most Important Artist In Music by Spin. He had become such a shorthand for “Smart But Accessible Alt-Culture Figure” that MillerCoors even shamelessly ripped off his whole steez for a beer campaign based around a slacker character named Dick.
Of course, no one stays in their imperial period forever, and one can only imagine how Beck felt, watching as the wildly free-flowing sound he and the Dust Brothers created on Odelay was immediately turned into frat-boy fodder by the likes of Smash Mouth and Sugar Ray. So with Mutations — which turns 20 tomorrow — he made a hard pivot, setting aside his free-associative hip-hop sensibilities for a series of cosmic folk songs that saw him trading Irony for Feelings.
After the tour for Odelay wound down, Beck recruited Nigel Godrich for his major work after helming Radiohead’s OK Computer, the other huge era-defining alt-rock album of the late ’90s. Beck and his crack live band cut a song a day for 14 days, for an off-the-cuff feel that Godrich would soak in his trademark antiseptic, Kubrikian sheen. The original plan was that Bong Load Records, the tiny Los Angeles label that first released Beck’s breakout “Loser” would also release Mutations.
Beck had worked out an unprecedented deal with Geffen Records that would allow him, in theory, to release albums with smaller labels, which is how K Records was able to release his collection of early lo-fi recordings One Foot In The Grave and Flipside released his hodgepodge Stereopathetic Soulmanure the same year as Geffen released his official debut Mellow Gold. But after hearing Mutations, Geffen pulled rank and insisted on releasing the album, marketing it as a detour for hardcore Beck fans while he stayed hard at work on the “real” follow-up to Odelay. No videos were made for the album, and aside from appearing on Saturday Night Live, Beck did little to promote it, but such was his stature at the time that the album eventually went platinum and won Best Alternative Music Album Grammy.
I get the sense that amongst critics and fans, Mutations is often considered Beck’s dress rehearsal for his 2002 heartbreaker Sea Change, trying sadness on for size before later going Full Desolation. But honestly, this is probably because of the album highlight “Nobody’s Fault But My Own,” which finds Beck beating himself up over unspecified mistakes over a sea of psychedelic strings that could have been sampled from Rubber Soul. It was a startling turn at the time, the effortlessly cool guy from “Where It’s At” asking aloud, “Pointing a finger, throw the book at you/ And who would want to dance with you?”
But listening to Mutations today, I think what the album tells us is that even when he’s trying to be serious, Beck is still a playful guy. “Cancelled Check” and “Bottle Of Blues” have a light, Hank Williams-worthy sway to them, complete with some light piano rolls on the former; you can practically see Beck copping a sheepish grin while tinkling the ivories at a frontier barroom for a bunch of prospectors during happy hour. “O Maria” might revolve around an oddly moving couplet that signifies the need to grow up already (“Everybody knows/ the circus is closed”) but it glides by on a ’60s melody that feels cloned from Donovan.
There’s enough fingerprints of classic rock songwriters, from the Lennon-ish melodies and chord changes on “Dead Melodies” through the Bob Dylan worthy whines of “Lazy Flies” that it sometimes feels like Beck’s aim was to make an album that if you found it in a dusty vinyl pile, you might mistake as a lost prize from the ’60s, à la Inside Dave Van Ronk. But while Beck is a scholar of music, he’s never been content with merely reproducing his record collection. Mutations is filled with dozens of tiny little Beckisms, choices only he would make, be it contrasting a wheezing harmonica with sci-fi synth wiggles on “Cold Brains,” undercutting the Beatles-like reverie of “We Live Again” with dread-inducing negative space or spicing his Brazilian-music homage “Tropicalia” with post-modern lyrics about isolation and a noisy sound collage.
Mutations would prove that Beck could do sincerity, or at least Sincerity, just fine thank you very much, and the woozy, operatic country rock he summons here in many ways feels like a blueprint that Mike Mogis and Conor Oberst would follow with Bright Eyes, where the slowly unraveling ballad “Static,” tucked all the way at the end of the album, feels like Beck’s big budget answer to the delicate balladry Cat Power and Elliott Smith were getting up to, declaring “it’s a perfect day to lock yourself inside” as the guitar solo shrugs and the keyboard lines evaporates”.
I am going to end with a couple of reviews. This is what Rolling Stone said in their review in November 1998. Mutations is unobjectively one of the most important albums of the 1990s. An artist who was huge and regarded as super-cool by 1996, it was quite a commercial risk releasing something like Mutations! Only hitting thirteen in the U.S. and twenty-four in the U.K., it was less of a chart success than Odelay. The same is true of the sales. Even so, Mutations was provided with lots of love:
“LET’S CALL THIS song “Where it’s Not”: “There is no one, nothing to see,” sings Beck. “The night is useless, and so are we.” “Night birds will cackle,” he intones on another track, “rotting like apples on trees.” The twenty-eight-year-old Beck Hansen’s new album, Mutations, brims with death, decay and decrepitude. But in its own peculiar way, it’s also his prettiest record to date.
On Mutations – recorded in two weeks last spring – Beck stops talking down to his tuneful side. Compared with the funk collage of 1996’s Odelay or the raw anti-folk of 1994’s One Foot in the Grave, this is an album of comfort songs. Assisted by Nigel Godrich (who co-produced Radiohead‘s OK Computer), Beck finally gives his melodies – some of them, like “Cancelled Check” and “Static,” as old as his first demo tapes – the full studio treatment, letting them seep into pellucid Sixties folk-pop arrangements.
The most gorgeous example of this is “Nobody’s Fault but My Own,” a wise, dreamy song traced by sitars and strings arranged by Beck’s father, David Campbell. “When the moon is a counterfeit,” sings Beck, “better find the one that fits/Better find the one that lights the way for you.” It sounds like he’s singing about a bad relationship, but he might as well be delivering a personal manifesto; he’s doffed the rhinestone suit and James Brown schtick for a new costume.
Mutations is a highly mannered album that references vintage psychedelic folk and rock as overtly as Odelay sampled Schubert. “Lazy Flies” has the same arch, carousel-like tone as the Beatles’ “Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite”; “Bottle of Blues” rolls along like the Kinks at their Muswell Hillbillies rootsiest. The album’s affectations can be overpowering: “Lazy Flies” is a Hieronymus Boschpainting populated by “dead horses” and “shadows of sulphur.” “We Live Again” is comically dreary; “Oh, I grow weary of the end,” Beck moans. Amid the track’s harpsichords and elevator-music slothfulness, Beck’s insincerity-which we can forgive or enjoy in other contexts – doesn’t quite fit; it seems a bit cold and removed.
But even if he doesn’t find exactly the right pitch every time, Beck has entered his prime as a songwriter, which is exciting. Few lyricists of his generation are coming up with lines as good as “Doldrums are pounding/Cheapskates are clowning this town” (“Dead Melodies”). It’s also a testament to his talent that he has so effortlessly assimilated bossa nova into his repertoire, as he did last year on the single “Deadweight” and as he does here with the wonderful “Tropicalia,” a tribute to the progressive Brazilian music of the same name from the Sixties and Seventies. Like Brazilian musicians such as Caetano Veloso and Jorge Ben (who was sampled on “Deadweight”), Beck is a singer-songwriter with a sophisticated sense of rhythm. Here, a silvery, uplifting groove brings to life a macabre carnival in which “tourists snore and decay” and people “dance in a reptile blaze.”
It’s that combination of the straight for ward and the surreal that Beck has always pursued, and on Mutations he’s found some kind of balance. Like the blues singer he once wanted to be, he broods, moans and frets – but there’s joy in the music”.
I am going to end with a review from NME. The press in the U.K. were suitably impressed by the sixth studio album from the California-born genius. Producing alongside Nigel Godrich (who then had recently produced Radiohead’s OK Computer), this was two incredible creatives working on a wonderous album. One that endures twenty-five years later:
“SO YOU'VE HAD ENOUGH FROM the all-you-can-wear trainer buffet, kicked a soda can moodily round the old-skool yard, and whatever the game is, you're pretty damn sure you know the score. Ready for the next round, you genuflect in the direction of the hipsters' Mount Rushmore, from where Yauch, Horowitz, Diamond, and there on the end, young Mr Hansen, stare down unimpeachably. You won't, however, be expecting their winter collection to include velvet tabards and incense, and as for the cacti and spittoons, well, you'd rather eat plaid.
You'd better sit down. 'Mutations' sees Beck replacing the spinning turntable with the acid-rock lightwheel, the concrete streets with the long and winding road, retreating further from glaring expectation into the complex little universe between those fluffy sideburns.
To be fair, Beck insists 'Mutations' isn't the official follow-up to 'Odelay' - that should hit the planet some time next year - but a continuation of the wax-cylinder folk unearthed on 1994's 'One Foot In The Grave'. There's no white-suited, jewel-fingered pirouetting possible here, the singer retreating to a massively unfashionable time where consciousness was peeled raw by hallucinogens, where psychedelia toppled into psychosis and the open spaces of country rock offered fresh air amid the patchouli fumes.
More 'Ohdearlay' than a joyous whoop from a cultural swinger, it's a bleak and gentle record - the opening 'Cold Brains' wobbles like a nervous breakdown on a plate, while the disillusioned 'We Live Again' suggests a man weary of the hip hype. "Dredging the night, drunk libertines", he croons, desolate, "I grow weary of the end". Only cocktail-shaker single 'Tropicalia' fits his now-established image, Antonio Carlos Jobim hanging in the 'hood while preposterous synth scrunching suggests a guest appearance by Ross from Friends. Yet as Beck's ancient voice becomes all the more intimate, the mischievous angel takes a turn for the worse, tapping into a timeless mythology of melancholy. 'Nobody's Fault But My Own' strings its nerves out across those Wichita telegraph poles; 'Sing It Again' is 'Norwegian Wood' tinged with rabbit-skinning pedal steel, while the deceptively cheery honky-tonk of 'O Maria' casts Beck as saloon showgirl, playfully chucking grizzled cowboys under the chin.
Once out on the road, though, Beck soon reins himself back into inner space, passed out on the floor of the Fillmore Ballroom watching his brain go by. The beautiful medieval whimsy of 'Lazy Flies' sounds like Beck was surrounded by jesters and maidens playing finger-cymbals. 'We Live Again' steps back even further to the days when Pink Floyd still had a definite article, but most terrifying is freakout, 'Diamond Bollocks' where booted fairies stomp out the peace-and-love embers. From fly irony to Iron Butterfly is one hell of a leap, and Beck makes it like Neil Armstrong on a helium bender.
You would expect nothing less. 'Mutations' might be the inveterate individualist's way of keeping ahead, but more gladdeningly, it swerves the style diktats and mint-condition rareties in favour of pure emotion. Sure, Beck remains the Midas Of Cool, but most importantly, it's his heart that's made of gold.
8/10”.
A stunning work that opened a more sensitive and open side to Beck, he would go on to mix more experimental and multifarious albums – see 2005’s Guero – with something deeper and more heartfelt (2002’s Sea Change). I like how he can go from Odelay in 1996 to Mutations in 1998. He would do similar with the one-two of 1999’s Midnight Vultures and 2002’s Sea Change! Someone always keeping people guessing, Mutations ranks alongside the best of Beck. Turning twenty-five on 3rd November, this is a beautiful and consistently brilliant album that will always be…
VERY dear to my heart.