Cali Dreaming

Beck’s Odelay is pure 1990s southern California (or at least what I imagine it to be since I only first stepped foot in the state in 2007). It’s innocuous Hollywood strip or Venice Beach hipsterness with its mélange of self-professed freaks, aimless troubadours, and skateboard thrashers painting the laidback horizon. It’s the thrift store threads with a collage of artistic allusions to choose from for its irreverential dialogue in a retro piano bar.

I can’t help listen to Odelay and be reminded of some of the cultural landscape that pervaded the decade. Movies that immediately come to mind are Get Shorty and A Life Less Ordinary, flicks set in Cali and that borrow heavily from Elmore Leonard’s style of making the slightly sleazy and criminal elements of the world both cool and comical, all in a laidback and quirky setting. In fact, the latter film effectively uses Beck’s song “Deadweight”. The hipster criminal element of Steven Soderbergh’s Ocean’s Eleven, with its Vegas hipsterness not so removed from that of southern Cali, also seems somewhat connected to the mid-1990s Beck vibe. Although not necessarily influenced by Beck, sunny-music producing 1990s artists like Sheryl Crow, Smashmouth, and Sugar Ray don’t seem that far removed from elements of Odelay’s sonic collage – alt country pop, fuzzy organ sounds, etc. Of course, it’s hard not to be reminded of The Beastie Boys’ move to Cali to join Capitol Records and to record Paul’s Boutique along with The Dust Brothers, key collaborators on Odelay as well.

The mention of these sensory and cultural links is merely to demonstrate how Odelay seems distinctly set in a place and a time. That is not to say, however, that the music is dated and tarnished some 10+ years after its first original release. In fact, the album possesses a unique energy and an ever-changing internal identity that makes the music coquettishly elusive, yet ultimately attractive. Its leftfield antics and mind-bending lyricism, all within a broad socially acceptable domain (i.e. without the dangers of actual drug consumption or delinquent acts), certainly give the music a unique and lingering charm that invites repeated listens.

When Odelay was first released, I was passively aware of the music. “Where It’s At” was played ad naseum on radio and in live TV performances. Other tracks got plenty of airplay and the album was a hit among many friends and acquaintances. For some reason – probably because I was cynical of the hipsterness set on a large audience scale – I intentionally ignored the album. Listening to it now, I can’t help but be rather impressed and disappointed that I didn’t give it a fair chance back in the day.

Sure, it’s hard not to take notice of the massive production trickery that go into several of the songs and that give them an amusingly schizo feel. But, it’s the seemingly more straightforward parts in other songs – the countrified slide guitar on “Lord Only Knows” and the chorus of “Sissyneck”, the repetitive funky beat and Doors-esque organ on “The New Pollution”, the languid gait of the guitar on “Jack-ass”, the folksy “Ramshackle” – that give the album that extra edge and credibility, that is, the conviction that this stream-of-consciousness mumbling singer actually knows what he is doing and has some soul. These more straightforward elements no doubt feed the sterling production on Beck’s just as impressive Mutations album.

Does it matter that I have no idea what the hell the guy is saying? Not at all. Sure, I guess trying to decipher the lyrics could be somewhat annoying for those that value the words. I, on the other hand, usually consider lyrics in a secondary fashion, only considering them once I have determined the value or attractiveness of the music. In the case of Odelay, I am definitely attracted, which should lead to some consideration of the words. But, you know, when it is this fun listening to the sounds and feel of an album, the guy could be talking about apple strudel and bird watching, for all I care.

So, some 10+ years after Odelay’s original favorable impression on the pop and rock landscape, it is still pretty easy to see why this album is considered one of the more important albums of the decade.

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Odelay

Odelay, Beck, Rolling Stone Magazine's #462

exile staff consensus: Top 200 album





the breakdown:
3.5 cannons -eurowags, lenbarker
3.0 cannons - venerableseed

the essays:
2/27 @ 9 a.m. - Beck brings eurowags back over the pond to California. With today's record euro conversion rate to the dollar his money will go far.
2/13 @ noon - Odelay is hip and not edgy? How could that be?
2/8 @ 2 p.m. - Nonsense Nonsense Nonsense!
2/6 @ 9 a.m. - I wonder what I missed way back in 1996.

(some of) the album:



the introduction:
Perfect welcoming catchy melodies. Easy listening sounds. Dada-ist lyrics. Hurricane Novocane derelicts, puzzles, pagans, devil's haircuts, jackasses, strange invitations, discos quebrados, Sergio Valentes, Sassoons, hand-me-downs, flypaper towns, lily-white cavity crazes, leperous faces, garbage man trees, odelays, and, of course, two turntables and a microphone.

Beck's precocious magnum opus Odelay dropped on June 18, 1996, manna from the heavens to an unsuspecting hipster world still yearning for the next Paul's Boutique and a perfect pop treat to the needy MTV-watching masses. Even those who fell in between these extremes found the album irresistible, a perfect fun soundtrack for a breezy carefree age where everything seemed to be going right. An inclusive melange that could be seamlessly played on any radio station, r&b, alternative, pop, hip-hop, adult contemporary, whatever.

Just last week, on January 29, the Odelay - Deluxe Reissue was released giving us a perfect time to listen again and recapture the magic.

Check back here for more posts, but in the meantime be sure to browse the online encyclopedia of Beck, http://www.whiskeyclone.net, which could possibly be the internet's most exhaustive musical artist overview.


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Two of These Things Don't Belong

Odelay is an absolutely loveable album. Sure, there are some funny, goofy lyrics that might be about weird or dark things or emotions but on the whole it's adult contemporary radio-ready. Would my mom like it? Not as much as she likes Lauryn Hill's Miseducation or Joni Mitchell or Linda Ronstadt but yeah. At the same time Odelay is lo-o-o-o-ved by your hipster friends, the pitchforkerati. The in-the-know kids love it, hell they made music videos for Odelay's hits ushering in a new era of quirky as cool.

All that got me to wondering: how many classic album rank low on the edginess factor a/k/a the would-my-mom-like-it factor but simultaneously rank high on the hipsterness factor a/k/a the do-the-cool-kids-like it factor. If you smell a chart coming then you're nose is keen.



So on the chart above are all the albums we've listened to so far. The hipsterness quotient was decided by where the album appeared in pitchforkmedia.com's best albums of their respective decade while the edginess was more subjective. For the edginess rating I played songs from the album for my mom and decided on the rating by her facial expression of comfort (not edgy) or disgust (edgy).

For the most part, there is a direct corollary between hipsterness and edginess as the general upward moving diagonal shows. In fact there are no albums, so far, other than Odelay which fit in the lower right quadrant! Similarly, only The Battle of Los Angeles appears in the upper left quadrant.

Despite our small sample selection it seems that the key to making a classic canonical album is to balance the factors of hipsterness and edginess. Or something like that.

But where does this leave our two outsiders? Why are they such anomalies? In the case of The Battle of Los Angeles I think that its aggressive politics both offended and alienated the moderate pragmatists who, at the time of the album's release, were doing pretty well financially and socially. Who needs the system torn down when internet speculation is making us all rich? Who needs anger when we've had four years of peace and prosperity?

Odelay, I postulated was both a harbinger and product of this peace and prosperity. It was also an accurate depiction of exterior world. Unlike OK Computer whose unprecedented millennial angst seems ridiculous in historical perspective. Nevertheless that album is the one that is remembered as the best of the 90's. It follows the above chart's pattern of canonization perfectly.

I disliked Odelay and The Battle of Los Angeles greatly when they were released, albeit for widely disparate reasons. But on my contemporary re-listens they've been the two albums that have surprised me the most and the ones that have, oddly enough, made me the happiest. click here to
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Odelay's Lyrics Were Nonsense...Impossible!

So Beck has finally admitted that Odelay's lyrics were "utter nonsense". We all suspected it; we all probably even wished it were true. Now if only Michael Stipe would admit the same thing. Or Bob Dylan. Or (posthusmously) John Lennon. Or Stephen Malkmus. Or Ghostface Killah. Or (posthusmously) Arthur Lee. Or (posthusmously???) Jim Morrison. Or George Clinton. This list could go on on and on and on. Let's make it so!

Who is your favorite nonsense rock/rap/r&b lyricist and who should should be added to the above list?

Just hit the old comment button and put in your two cents.

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False Pre-Millennium Tension

Odelay's bright sing-songy choruses. The spontaneously planned and fun Dust Brothers samples. The hip-hop beats and alt-country melodies. Diminutive Beck at the MTV Video Music Awards decked out in playful cowboy gear strumming his guitar on top of Radio City Music Hall. They all seemed so contrived so obvious so fake and so boring at the time. 1996 wasn't supposed to be Odelay.

These were the times of romantic pre-millennium tension. 1995's hip-hop masterpieces were bottom-of-the-ocean dark affairs: Mobb Deep's The Infamous, Raekwon's ...Cuban Links, and the GZA's Liquid Swords. Were the Dust Brothers still living in Paul's Boutique? Hadn't they heard of this new hybrid affair called trip-hop and its brooding paragons Portishead, Tricky, Moby, Bjork, and DJ Shadow? The great rock albums, Radiohead's The Bends, PJ Harvey's To Bring You My Love were similarly epic, angsty, and anxious. The Smashing Pumpkins' newest album title even included the words "The Infinite Sadness." In 1995, Alanis Morisette's screaming retribution ruled the pop charts, TLC's maddeningly depressing aim-low anthem "Waterfalls" ruled the r&b and MTV video playlist airways. Those albums were the times. Those albums were its mood.

Then came Odelay on June 18, 1996 and the mood changed. The music became more poppy, the times got lighter, things became more hopeful. The Village Voice's 1995 single of the year was Coolio's uber-maudlin "Gangsta's Paradise"; in 1997 the title went to Hanson's "MmmBop," incidentally another Dust Brothers production.

The United States was changing as well both politically and economically. The 1996 Presidential election was expected to be a close affair. A year earlier, Newt Gingrich's Contract With America based -Republican Revolution swept itself into power, conquering both the House and the Senate. The economy was on a downtown, reactionary politics ruled the day, and the young hopeful President from Hope was bound to be replaced by a 73-year-old career Senator who had publicly opposed LBJ's plan for a Great Society in the same year Meet the Beatles was released: 1964.

But the assumed 1997 United States was different, the doomsaying predictions had not come true. Trip-hop would not be the background music. Gingrich had been disposed and his wave of paranoid politics abandoned. Clinton was overwhelmingly re-elected and a tech-based economic boom had begun.

When I listen to Odelay today I hear this (sea) change of thought and American ethos. It's a joyful album that's inclusive, positive, diverse, and exceedingly boom-ready. It's the thrill of your first internet surfing experience, circa 1996 on a dial-up connection. It's slow, promising, surprise laden, fast, not too deep, full of wonder, without limitation, and ultimately very familiar.

Odelay is a welcoming and nonthreatening melange of that crazy world around you. The myriad random voices and musical styles don't attack your sensibilities, they just join the party. Despite the random, purposefully abstract lyrics the album had no edginess; Bob Dole would even like this album! Beware Andrews Sisters. At the same time so did your friends. The goth friends, the jock friends, your hipster friends, the entire range of John Hughes-characters friends.

I wish I had appreciated Odelay more in 1996, but I wish I had appreciated the United States more then too.
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