Beck
Mutations

THE REVIEW

So Beck is at home thinking about how to fool all the music critics in the world, then comes the stroke of genius, he takes an acoustic guitar with all the strings out of place, a guitar from his mother's hippie friends that was left to mold since 1969 when it was used at an orgy party along with Timothy Leary, the Grateful Dead, and some other Woodstock rejects.

He took this wreck, as I was saying, and recorded it with a series of damaged tapes playing underneath and the neighbor's TV blasting at full volume, just to get back at them because, you see, to an idiot like him who failed every subject in school for seven years in a row, all the critics started saying "how talented he is, how well he plays, what a genius": and there you go, another brilliant work was handed, meaning he made a damn crappy folk record, the kind that if Alex Britti had made it, we would have stoned him in public, but he cleverly called it Mutations, and so all the critics worldwide fell for it again and started saying how great, what a genius, alternative while staying within tradition, simple and direct, and this time Beck is surely laughing away in his house in Santa Monica (getting bigger), alternative within tradition?? Or just the annoying folk record of someone who had nothing to say?

A vomit-inducing and failed slacker like most of Generation X?