And here, we have my third favorite Beck record (my second is The Information, but it only sells on vinyl as a $200 box set. No way, rec execs). As I mentioned in my review of 2002’s Sea Change, Beck’s relationship with his producers is often much more like that of collaborators than the typical artist-producer working order. Here, he enlists Danger Mouse, of Gnarls Barkley fame, to spice things up a bit. And from the get go, his influence is obvious.
Author: Nathaniel FitzGerald
Record #39: Beck – Sea Change, 2002
In the context of his diverse and expansive discography, saying that Sea Change is my favorite Beck record is a weighty claim to make. But, I make it anyway. True, it may be his least Beck-ish release, free of his deadpan rap stretching of the English language; and at times it might feel like longtime Radiohead producer Nigel Godrich might be calling most of the shots here (string arrangements and analog delay abound). But on Sea change, Mr. Hansen proves that his emotional range stretches far beyond self deprecation and a generous helping of irony.
Record #38: The Beatles – Hey Jude (1970)
At some point, someone had the idea that people might be more apt to buy an album full of singles as opposed to a bunch of seven inches. For me, that is completely true. I would much rather sit down for twenty minutes and then have to get up to flip the disc than to sit down for three minutes. And when a group has as many non-album singles as the Beatles did, a singles compilation could be a legitimately rewarding listen. So many great songs litter each side: Lady Madonna, Revolution, Paperback Writer, Don’t Let Me Down, and, of course, Hey Jude, which everyone knows.
Record #37: The Beatles – Let It Be (1970)
As the story goes, after the fragmented, acrimonious, and fragmented sessions that yielded The White Album, Paul McCartney, longing for the old days, suggested the band come together for one last show, writing an album together with guitars instead of with tape reels. The show in question was the infamous unannounced rooftop concert in London (which was beset by party-pooping policeman), which was their final public appearance. The concert was recorded, and then spliced together with studio songs for an album, which was shelved, due to the group’s dissatisfaction with the project, until restraint-less producer Phil Spector got his hands on it. The album that resulted is…a mixed bag. Like The White Album before it, it contains some of the Beatles’ greatest material (see: Across The Universe, pop ballad among pop ballads Let It Be), but it’s wildly uneven (see: Dig It, The Long And Winding Road).
Record #35: The Beatles – Yellow Submarine (1969)
I will say it right now. Yellow Submarine is my least favorite Beatles song (barring Wild Honey Pie). For whatever reason, it’s the first song a large section of the population think of when they think of the Beatles. I have never understood it, since THE WHOLE OF THEIR EXTENSIVE CATALOGUE showcases a better band than that one track. But, it makes for a good premise for an animated film, and being that the Beatles made money, a soundtrack for that film had to be released.
Record #34: The Beatles – The Beatles (White Album) (1968)
The White Album is:
hugely ambitious
scatterbrained
immense
fractured
Legendary.
Record #30: The Beatles – Rubber Soul (US) (1965)
And here we are to it at last–the album that started the great race between the Fab Four and the Beach Boys wherein we, the listeners won. It’s often considered by critics to be the first truly great record the Beatles ever made, and listening to their catalogue in succession, this is the first in their catalogue that sounds like it was made by the best band in the world instead of just the most popular.
Record #29: The Beatles – Help! (1965)
Given the maturing the Beatles did in the five months between Meet The Beatles and A Hard Day’s Night, it’s little surprise that the fourteen months between Night and Help! yielded as great of creative leaps as it does.
Record #28: The Beatles – A Hard Day’s Night (1964)
Wherein Capitol records decides the Beatles aren’t making them enough money (even with this being their fourth album released in 1964), put them in movie, sell soundtrack as “New Beatles Record,” which was just one of the many schemes the record company had to make as much money from their flagship as possible (see also: removing songs from UK version, releasing it in the US on another disc, marketing as new album). But oddly enough, even as padding for rec-execs, (and with the randomly inserted orchestral pieces, which make up four of the twelve songs), it’s completely satisfying as an early Beatles album.