As one of the most significant and trend-setting albums of the '90s, Beck's post-modern opus, Odelay, is the latest to get the deluxe edition"" treatment. Packed with an extra disc of stellar b-sides and rarities, including two previously unreleased tracks, the release is a great example of why it's easy to rejoice in tricked out reissue albums: They're fun to look at and they motivate you to once again contemplate, in the broader context of auxiliary tracks and fresh liner notes, a loved album that may have fallen by the wayside.
For better or worse, the ball that Odelay set rolling, though it has certainly changed shape since 1996, is still going strong. The album's mix 'n' match aesthetic, with MC Beck at the helm of a mad genre-hop through folk, hip-hop, psychedelic, electro and practically every other conceivable label - those ""hijacked flavors that I'm flippin' like birds"" - made it one of the first albums that was ironically genre-less because it encompassed them all.
These days, a whole slew of Pitchfork-praised bands, like !!!, Animal Collective and Sunset Rubdown, are still gaining acclaim for their ability to transcend definition, melding disparate styles in an ADD grab at being unique. Some of these bands manage to turn out exceptional, distinctly engaging works, while others only flounder around in a dead end of backwards innovation. The latter seem to want listeners to be at a loss when sorting out comparisons (the bread and butter of music analysis), as if the ability to shrug off influences is something to be automatically proud of. However, this colossally misses the point of innovation since most great pop music is much more fundamentally built on expansion of what's come before rather than outright synthesis. When sounding unique becomes the end goal rather than the means to reach it, the result is usually dull and contrived.
It's reasonable to assume Beck is responsible for setting the rubric of the cutting edge way up in this elusive, off-the-map zone of vague definability that's now so often sought after. Since Odelay, however, the self-dubbed ""Enchanting Wizard of Rhythm"" has never melded styles quite like he did on that seminal work, instead focusing his next few widely varying albums around a more individually cohesive sound.
In 2003, Guero was the first time Beck attempted to recapture Odelay, and while good in some respects, it largely failed at that ambitious goal. Presumably not quite content with the album, Beck soon released Guerolito, which featured every cut from Guero remixed by a variety of different artists. With that rather tepid release, he inadvertently unleashed yet another significant trend of the last several years - the remix album - which bands like Stars, the Beastie Boys and Nine Inch Nails have embraced ever since.
Remixes are certainly amusing, but it's hard to say what motivates an artist to release an entire album of them. The most logical explanation is that it's just for kicks, but regardless, remix albums can't help but seem like the ultimate sacrifice of artistic vision. They basically pour out all the singularity of a musical statement in favor of a disjointed, mixed up affair where a variety of different methodologies and sensibilities come crashing together and usually quickly fizzle. This cohesive unrest is, in spirit, really just another manifestation of that shambolic mix 'n' match approach that Odelay set in motion, adjusted fittingly for the do-it-yourself age.
After reading this article, you might think I'm ragging on Beck for what he influenced, but that's not the intention. I'm really just praising him for what he did better than anyone, which was, of course, to borrow from everyone simultaneously and throw it in a big melting pot - one that is still getting stirred around today.
Feel differently about Beck's influence on contemporary music? Remix Ben's argument into one you support and e-mail it to him at bpeterson1@wisc.edu.
