Beck - Modern Guilt

If Beck was a candy, he’d be Lik-M-Aid Fun Dip. And Modern Guilt would be the green apple flavor.
Modern Guilt, released in July of 2008 and co-produced by Danger Mouse, is good, solid Beck with a tinge of satisfyingly sour undertones. Beck has taken a radical departure from the upbeat, blue raspberry dance-pop of Guero and The Information and begun to claim his inner emo self. But unlike the overbearing love junkie of Sea Change, the angsty Beck of Modern Guilt is spiritually introspective, almost meditative, and an air of ethical consciousness that would make Lennon or Dylan proud has taken center stage.
Listening to the rather apocalyptic lyrics a little too intently might leave you emotionally exhausted: “Gamma Ray” contemplates the precarious state of the environment, while “Chemtrails” considers the conspiracy theory that jet trails consist of government-engineered chemical sprays. Fortunately, the grim and apathetic vocals are projected against an aural landscape that serves as the album’s saving grace: characterized by a heavy handed neo-rock sound that manages to be captivating—downright danceable—thanks to simple, primal melodies, pulsating bass beats, and looped electronics, fusing psychedelic and profound into a hybrid of happy and sad.
The album opens with “Orphans” in a dreamy haze of acoustic guitar and ethereal flutes peppered with the deliciously sublime vocal harmonies of Cat Power’s Chan Marshall. The following two tracks—“Gamma Ray” and “Chemtrails”—both released as singles—continue in a strong suit: the tinny tambourine and chugging guitar of the former urges the listener to guilt-fully dance along to proclamations of heat waves and melting ice caps, while the latter boasts melodramatic vocals, metallic snares and a delicate, piquant piano. The momentum carries through the album’s title track, “Modern Guilt”, in which the singer’s lulling vocals perfectly complement thick percussion infused with Wurlitzer-esque melodies. The funk-soul brother side of Beck, which seems to make its way onto most albums, has made a robust appearance in “Youthless”, whose lyrics dwell on increased disparity and misunderstanding between generations. “Youthless” easily stands out the album’s gem: a super catchy bass line, particularly punked-out, tristful vocals, and healthy dose of Atari-inspired electronica make the track worthy of a mod dance party aboard a UFO.
The following five tracks continue to boast provocative, ear-catching guitar rhythms and poignantly layered, oscillating vocals, but it’s clear that the first five take the cake. “Replica” accosts the listener with an intense and repetitive bass/drums duo that might leave you in a trance, and the twangy guitar slides alone on “Soul of a Man” lead one to wonder: has Beck really abandoned us for that redneck heavy metal we hoped would only be confined to monster truck shows? The album’s final track, “Volcano”, is marked by gloomy Elliott Smith-like vocals that leave a little bit of an aftertaste in your mouth. Kind of like a sour apple.

by Caroline Schepker