Jeff Beck: Jeff

Jeff
Jeff Beck
Epic

When is a Jeff Beck record not a Jeff Beck record?

When it’s a Frankenstein’s monster of Pro Tools gibberish, that’s when. In a blind test, you’d have to be a hardcore Beck fanatic to tell anything on this distorted techno bit of tripe was the handiwork of one of the few remaining guitar gods to stride the earth. This record was made, according to interviews, largely by producers creating loops in one location, and Beck jamming to them somewhere else. Then the button jockeys took those tapes back, dropped ’em onto a hard drive and cut and pasted whatever fit.

Which, to be honest, is how Beck has worked for the last few records. But this time, it just ain’t happening. In fact, his guitar has mutated into sounding like a synth, digitized and formatted into just another sound effect. There’s not a melody to be found on this thing, and while that might be true of most techno, I doubt there’s a mass of folks screaming to hear funk guitar lines over drum machines. The only exception is “Seasons,” which starts off with some nice guitar lines over the London Session Orchestra, but then quickly reverts to drum machine hell. This is not a good Jeff Beck record. Hell, it might not even BE a Jeff Beck record.

Originally published Ink 19, 2003

The Yardbirds

Birdland
The Yardbirds
Favored Nations

It was of course inevitable that the reunion bus would at some point reach The Yardbirds. Never mind that singer Keith Relf has been dead since 1976. Or that the band’s trio of legendary guitarists — Eric Clapton, Jeff Beck and Jimmy Page — have done pretty well for themselves since then, and don’t need to tread the has-been circuit. But, the name “The Yardbirds” has a definite dollar value attached to it, and original members Chris Dreja and Jim McCarty have formed a “new” version of the band, and have recruited a host of musicians to release the first studio album bearing the Yardbirds moniker since 1968’s Little Games.

What is the result? On the remakes of Yardbirds hits, when assisted by the likes of Jeff Beck, Steve Vai or Slash, these guys sound like a rather good Yardbirds tribute band, which in some aspects they are. On the original tunes they are generally faceless, churning out generic pub rock that wouldn’t land them a record deal if they weren’t who they were. Before you think this record isn’t worth getting, there are some rather good moments. “My Blind Life” featuring Jeff Beck is stellar, but purely due to the greasy guitar of Beck. Jeff “Skunk” Baxter’s guitar on “The Nazz are Blue” rocks, so all is not lost. But calling Birdland a new release from The Yardbirds is a lie. A lie that can, by longtime fans of the band, be safely ignored.

Originally published Ink 19, 2003

Remembering John Lee Hooker

Remembering John Lee Hooker
Blue Storm

John Lee Hooker passed away in June of 2001, and when he left, he took the boogie with him. A lifetime playing the blues left us with a legacy of deceptively simple sounding music, seemingly high on feeling and groove, but sounding almost basic in its playing. Ha. Watching Hooker play was an exercise in Zen blues. He barely moved his hands, his left hand shaping chords almost entirely below the third fret of the guitar, his right hand idly flicking the strings. What that created, however, was a engulfing river of mojo that many have tried to copy, but few have come close. On this tribute to the great man, some of the greatest musicians around pay homage to the man with the sound, and while the record works great as a collection of good players making good music, it fails completely as a “remembrance” of John Lee Hooker. Largely performing works either written by or associated with Hooker, pickers such as Jeff Beck, Peter Green, Jack Bruce, Gary Moore and others capture some nice moments, but never come close to sounding for an instant like Hooker.

Jeff Beck The Tabernacle, Atlanta, GA March 5, 2001

Jeff Beck
The Tabernacle, Atlanta, GA March 5, 2001

It is one of my serious regrets that I was unfortunately born years too late. If I had been a youth in the ’40s and ’50s, I would have camped out in New York City and seen Charlie Parker, Miles, and the rest create Bebop. But alas, that was not to be. Although I did get to see Miles in his later, shiny jumpsuit period (on a show with Sun Ra!), it wasn’t the same Miles that created new musical forms at the drop of a hat. To be able to see someone who is a master at their instrument, ala Parker, Coltrane, or Miles has been a fervent desire that I had long accepted as being unreachable.

Until I saw Jeff Beck.

If anyone on this planet is doing ANYTHING as well as Jeff Beck is playing guitar, I wanna watch them. Because for 90 minutes, Beck literally reshaped the way a guitar is perceived. His last two releases, this year’s You Had It Coming and 1999’s Who Else! have featured Beck atop an electronica setting, a genre that generally leaves me cold, but in his hands, bristles with energy and passion. Opening with the lead cut from his current release, the aptly named “Earthquake,” within an instant Jeff caused the jaws of the guitarists in the crowd to drop, simply by playing what those of us who had listened to the album had assumed was a keyboard part. Nope, it was guitar. The evening continued in such a manner, with every song allowing Beck and his crème Strat to make a musical statement so precise and electrifying that after a few songs, all you could do was grin a stupid grin at the sheer skill he possesses.

Steve Morse

Major Impacts
Steve Morse
Magna Carta

Now this is an interesting idea. Give major guitar-burner Steve Morse (Dixie Dregs, Deep Purple) a roll of tape, a budget, and a concept, and let him go. The theory is simple — write music in the style of the people who influenced you. The result is very nice — 11 cuts that pay homage to the greats, such as Jeff Beck, Jimi Hendrix, Keith Richards, and more. As Morse mentions in the liner notes, writing instrumental music in the style of bands that used a vocalist is a neat trick — one he pulls off well. The opening cut, “Derailleur Gears,” manages to capture the essence of Cream, with washing waves of guitar that does bring to mind the magic that Eric Clapton once possessed, without having to hear some of the cripplingly stupid lyrics — “White Room,” anyone? “Led On,” in the manner of Jimmy Page, is so dead-on perfect, from its simple acoustic guitar opening to the thundering riffage of a wall of guitars, it makes you wish Page could summon it up himself.

Most of the artists selected are no-brainers — most any guitarist growing up in the ’60s and ’70s would pick them. What is interesting are two cuts in the style of George Harrison (“Something Gently Weeps”) and even better, “Migration,” with its 12-string strumming and emotive melody line showcases Roger McGuinn and the Byrds. While the folk-based sound of McGuinn and company are rarely thought of in the same breath with axe-masters like Hendrix or Beck, Morse makes his case simply by creating a moving piece of music that relies on mood and tone instead of fretboard finesse, proving that good music doesn’t have to travel in the fast lane. But of course, few are better at cranking it up, speed-wise, than Morse. And if that’s what you’re after, this disc will more than suit. Steve Morse has always been a breathtaking original guitarist, daring, tasteful without being flash. With the release of Major Impacts, you get a glimpse of where he went to school.

Originally published Ink 19, 2000

Tinsley Ellis

The Hard Way
Tinsley Ellis
Telarc Blues

Tinsley Ellis has been a bluesman since the days before the blues were cool (re: pre-SRV) and with each new record, he continues to stake his claim as one of blues/roots music’s most able performers. With one foot in Texas (“12 Pack Poet” is better than ZZ Top has been in years) the other rooted in the Memphis soul of “Me Without You” or “My Love’s the Medicine”, Ellis illustrates his greatest strength. Above being a masterful guitarist (check out the Beckian “Love Bomb”), he is a fresh, insightful songwriter in a genre that generally frowns on originality. Take this from “Her Other Man”: “Gonna buy me a pistol or an engagement ring”- hell man, that’s poetry. Poetry you can crank. Surrounded by ace musicians including the great Ritchie Hayward from Little Feat on drums, Tinsley’s ninth album is a stylistic stew that succeeds on all counts.

Originally published Ink 19, 2004

Richard Lloyd

The Cover Doesn’t Matter
Richard Lloyd
Upsetter Music

Richard Lloyd holds one of rocks greatest resumes. As a member of the preeminent punk/art band Television, he and Tom Verlaine created a magical sound and presence in their brief history by playing intricate Velvet Underground-influenced rock that was sadly ahead of its time. A listen to the live document The Blow Up confirms all this and more-breathtaking interweaving of guitar fury and stellar tone, even though the record sounds like crap. Lloyd went on to play guitar for Mathew Sweet and John Doe among others since the demise of Television, a truly sad event. Along with Bob Quine, who played for Richard Hell and the Voidoids as well as Lou Reed, Lloyd helped define New York punk guitar, a sound that still echoes in the music of such bands as Luna.

The Cover Doesn’t Matter updates the Lloyd sound with a surprising toughness that listeners expecting another Marquee Moon might find a little rambunctious. “The Knockdown” opens things up with a great Jeff Beck-ish riff, and when Lloyd sings, it’s not the unpleasant caterwauling we come to expect from guitarists—of course, he sounds better than Verlaine did in Television, but that’s not really saying much. The record is 10 cuts of well-crafted pop songs, sounding at moments like Marshall Crenshaw (“Ain’t It Time”) or even Television on “Raising The Serpent”. “Submarine” is chock full of nifty sounds wretched from Lloyd’s Stratocaster, and features nasty little bits of guitar noise. Got to love that.

In fact, if you, like myself believe that American punk hit the high water mark around 1977 or so and the remaining 20 years (geez, we’re getting old…) have been mostly a torturous slide down to mall punk land, then you probably will love this disc. Catchy songs and nimble fingering go a long way these days, and Richard Lloyd seems to know this quite well.

Originally published popmatters.com, 2000

Jeff Beck: You Had It Coming

You Had It Coming
Jeff Beck
Epic

Some people play a guitar. Jeff Beck attacks one. At his best the sounds he coerces from his white Strat are criminally inventive, rude — or in his words — “slippery”. Pair this with the production and performance of Andy Wright, who has twiddled the knobs for everyone from Massive Attack to Simply Red, and you have what amounts to Jeff Beck doing the nasty at a rave. The opening cut “Earthquake” starts off with a grinding Nine Inch Nails keyboard figure and adds on some distorted vocals. Then Mr. Beck enters, effortlessly tossing little riffs atop the stew, but he’s only warming up. About two minutes into the song when he cuts loose with a solo — a solo that hits you like a mule kick between the eyes — you remember why A: of all the sixties guitar gods, only Beck can still look at himself in the mirror and B: why most electronica sucks. By the time you get to the two cuts featuring British vocalist Imogen Heap, the wickedly greasy “Dirty Mind” and a Prodigy on speed version of Muddy Waters’ “Rollin’ and Tumblin”, Jeff has already secured his reputation for another decade, should he decide to vanish as he did for most of the ’90s.

When Jimmy Page, Eric Clapton and Jeff Beck were the guiding lights of rock guitar in the sixties and seventies, all were at the top of whatever game they decided to follow. Page had Zeppelin, Clapton everything from Cream to Derek and the Dominos. Then one by one, perhaps as age crept up, Page stopped playing, and well, Clapton should have. From “White Room” to “Wonderful Tonight” is a long and ugly road. Only Beck, by pushing himself in new directions, namely jazz/rock fusion, kept himself vital. By surrounding himself with musicians such as Jan Hammer, with who he created the incredible Wired album, Jeff Beck refused to rest on his laurels, endlessly reform past groups (hello, Mr. Page?) or make watered down pop pabulum. Granted, he hasn’t been as visible as the others (this is only his second release in a decade), but what he’s put out has never taken the safe route. By immersing himself in the rigid confines of electronic music (as he did on his last release, 1999’s Who Else!), Beck’s frenetic guitar with it’s groove-heavy pacing and vitality is allowed to both complement and dominate the songs. His method of playing guitar lines in a uniquely non-linear fashion — he goes from A to B, but stops off at Q on the way — is exactly what this sort of lockstep music requires if it’s to have any humanity at all. Even when he slows the pace down, such as on the (almost) soothing “Blackbird/Suspension”, with its Windam Hill bird chirps and New Age keyboard washes, his tone, a dirty, piercing sound still rings true.

From the Yard (birds) to House, Jeff Beck has few equals when it gets right down to it. Hopefully this elusive yet influential mainstay of modern guitar won’t hide out as he has been prone to in the past, and continue to challenge both himself, and his listeners, by simply playing Jeff Beck guitar. And when he does, I’ll sell my copies of the last 20 years of Page and Clapton releases to hear it.

Originally published popmatters.com, 2001

Jeff Beck: Who Else!

Who Else!
Jeff Beck
Epic

Man, I wish I could work once every ten years and still stomp my competition like little bugs, which is what Jeff Beck does on his first record since the early ’90s. Who Else! continues the instrumental fury of Beck’s pickless guitar assault, this time wedded to techno/electronica beats — which don’t always work as songs, but you don’t really listen to a Jeff Beck record to pick a hit. You listen to him rip your face off with a white Stratocaster, thank you very much.

And rip he does- “THX138” hums and throbs along with what you think are synths — until you realize that one of the sounds is Beck tapping the crap out of the fretboard, and then he adds some gut-churning drops and dives on top of that.

If any people long for the days of Beck the bluesman, then skip over to “Brush With the Blues” and prepare for your jaw to drop. At 6:35, you should have just about enough time to burn all your wannabe blues records before this one finishes. His tone is unmatched, and the sheer command he has over his sound is almost unequaled by any other musician. This is a man who probably practices about 23 hours a day, and knows exactly what the hell he wants to do when he picks up a guitar.

Aided by keyboardist and co-producer Tony Hymas, guitarist Jennifer Batten (the blonde who played on Michael Jackson’s last tour — thank god she found a better employer), drummer Steve Alexander and Randy Hope-Taylor on bass, this is a sonic chunk of musical mayhem led by one of music most reclusive, but ablest, guitarists. Hey Jeff — release the next one a little quicker, okay?

Originally published Ink 19, 1999

The Pretenders

Viva El Amor!
The Pretenders
Warner Brothers

She might not be the snarling foulmouth of the Pretenders debut, but Chrissie Hynde can still kick anybody’s ass on the Lillith Fair tour, even with this not-so-hot release. Compared to her past work, this is a lame record, even out and out bad in spots — her attempt at Janis Joplin-ness (“One More Time”) is horrid, and the rest of the disc doesn’t really get the motor running either. Bright spots are the snotty lyrics of the opener, “Popstar” where Hynde seems to be taking aim at her fellow femmes, and the Jeff Beck guitar solo spot on “Legalise Me,” which transforms a rather tepid electronic track into a string-strangling fuzz-fest. Yeah, this thing beats the hell out of Jewel and Alanis. But a woman who gave us “Precious” and “Tattooed Love Boys” should be able to do that in her sleep. Come on, Chrissie — hang out with some new rough boys and get excited again.

Originally published Ink 19, 1999