By calling the muted psychedelic
folk-rock,
blues, and
Tropicalia of
Mutations a stopgap,
Beck set expectations for
Midnite Vultures unreasonably high. Ironically,
Midnite Vultures doesn't feel like a sequel to
Odelay -- it's a genre exercise, like
Mutations. This time,
Beck delves into
soul,
funk, and
hip-hop, touching on everything from
Stax/
Volt to
No Limit but using
Prince as his home base. He's eschewed samples, more or less, but not the aesthetic. Even when a song is reminiscent of a particular style, it's assembled in strange, exciting ways. As it kicks off with
"Sexx Laws," it's hard not to get caught up in the rush, and
"Nicotine & Gravy" carries on the vibe expertly, as does the party jam
"Mixed Bizness" and the full-on
electro workout
"Get Real Paid," an intoxicating number that sounds like a
Black Album reject. So far, so good -- the songs are tight, catchy, and memorable, the production dense. Then comes
"Hollywood Freaks." The self-conscious
gangsta goof is singularly irritating, not least because of
Beck's affected voice. It's the first on
Midnite Vultures to feel like a parody, and it's such an awkward, misguided shift in tone that it colors the rest of the album. Tributes now sound like send-ups, allusions that once seemed affectionate feel snide, and the whole thing comes off as a little jive. Musically,
Midnite Vultures is filled with wonderful little quirks, but these are undercut by the sneaking suspicion that for all the ingenuity, it's just a hipster joke. Humor has always been a big part of
Beck's music, but it was gloriously absurd, never elitist. Here, it's delivered with a smug smirk, undercutting whatever joy the music generates. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine
