Last Friday night, Beck headlined the Hollywood Bowl, a joyful, quirky hometown stop on what has been a lengthy fifteen-month tour behind his 2017 album, Colors. His latest album picked up a Grammy nom at this year’s ceremony for Best Music Video for the track “Up All Night,” and at his show last week, plenty of the visual motifs that echoed the surreal, technicolor feel of that piece back across the stage. Of course, the more memorable Grammy moment for Beck, in the minds of millennials at least, was when he infamously upstaged Beyonce at the 2015 awards, receiving the Album Of The Year trophy for his 2014 release Morning Phase, when the entire watching public was positive the pop star would get her due for an industry-rocking, universally acclaimed self-titled album.
But it wasn’t in the cards for Beyonce, and Beck went home with the award, which was — for what it’s worth — his own third instance of being nominated for that major category after losing twice, once for Odelay (1997) and again for Midnite Vultures (2001). Yes, Beck fans initially went through the loss and disappointment that Beyonce fans felt in 2014… back in 1997, over two decades ago now. In 2018, it’s been exactly twenty-five years since Beck put out his unofficial debut, Golden Feelings in 1993, marking him as a musician in the generation above millennials, the oft-mentioned Baby Boomers. But, he is one of the few who have managed to stick around as a compelling and still commercially successful force in a world that has more often than not nudged these early icons out of the spotlight in the internet age.
Late last year, when Beck’s most recent album, Colors, came out, Uproxx’s Steven Hyden hit me up to get my take on Beck, as a millennial. “Of all the bands, why is he famous?” I responded, cavalier as ever. “Seems random.” But after reading Hyden’s piece on the record, which contextualized Beck’s career, I learned about the innovation and enormous praise that followed Beck’s earliest work, background I had been completely unaware of, even as a casual fan of a couple of hits of Odelay, along with Sea Change and Guero, the Beck albums that came out when I was a teenager.
And while Hyden’s conclusion was that Beck’s most recent album isn’t aligned with the early creativity and feverish attention that defined his break out, my own response was a renewed appreciation for the way Beck has been able to shapeshift as an artist. That’s the kind of longevity that any millennial, accustomed to the 15 seconds of fame for no real reason viral sensation, can respect. It’s not that Beck is random, rather the opposite, he’s purposefully stretched his sound, influences, interests, and collaborators over the course of two and a half decades, all while retaining his signature Beck-ness.
The fact that Beck was dipping into hip-hop production and rap decades before the rest of the white mainstream had normalized the overpowering force of hip-hop on culture, and that he did this after initial beginnings in the anti-folk movement, gave an added sheen to his later indie-famous albums that I’d enjoyed. More pointedly, he shouted out the tools of hip-hop — two turntables and a microphone — on the album that the Grammys ultimately snubbed, still giving one of his biggest hits the cache of being ahead of its time, at least in indie circles that now fervently embrace hip-hop. But while he may have seen the writing on the wall before most rockers, it’s his own sound that won Beck the following he still boasts.