Beck's Sea Change Turns 20
I don’t typically think of Beck’s music as sad music and in the ‘90s that would’ve been a label that seemed nearly impossible to use when describing his sound. The man who appeared in the early ‘90s with his combo and groove-inflicted rock and roll that fused elements of hip-hop with indie seemed to be a genre all by himself. Launching into almost immediate stardom with his breakout hit “Loser,” Beck became a quintessential ‘90s alternative icon, a shabby looking dude who seemed as if he just took bong rips and spewed lyrical wonder over characteristic obscure melodies. With his defining record Odelay, he cemented himself as a true star and vision of a generation. There was something undeniably cool about him even if you couldn’t figure out exactly what it was. Throughout his discography, he kept his audience on their toes almost to a Serge Gainsbourg effect of constantly changing his sound only to reveal that he’ll always sound like Beck while sounding like nothing else he’s done prior.
All of that changed in a sense when he released Sea Change twenty years ago today. For once, Beck fit into a mold. Acoustic guitars and melody driven songs fill this album and not only did it instantly feel like his most accessible album to date, you’d probably be able to get anyone who was previously too weirded about by him to enjoy these songs. Also, unlike the records that came before it, this one felt personal. For the first time we were getting a glimpse into who Beck was as a person. He was vulnerable. He was sad. Comparisons to Dylan’s landmark Blood on the Tracks were abundant.
Breakup albums weren’t anything new at the start of the millennium and there was nothing new or groundbreaking about Sea Change, aside from the fact that it was a Beck album. With titles like “Guess I’m Doing Fine” and “Lonesome Tears,” it was apparent that Beck had been through something and this record was his way of expressing his grief. Sonically, it’s a crystalline record that is filled with rich, dynamic melodies, close-mic’d acoustic guitar, jazzy drums, and soft keys. It’s a record that would unfortunately be dubbed the horrible genre of “coffee house music” that was unbearably popular in the early 2000s, but it’s lightyears better than anything else that would’ve fit that mold. Beck delivered ballads here unlike anything we’d heard from him in the past and for the first time, his chops as a singer-songwriter were put under the spotlight.
That isn’t to say Beck wasn’t a respected artist prior to this record. He was a defining artist of the alt-rock scene of the ‘90s who had already written a plethora of fantastic songs and put out four phenomenal records, but for his first record of the 2000s, he titled it Sea Change and that’s exactly what it was for him. The shift that came with this record altered the course of his career (for the best), and helped usher in a new wave of indie rock hallmarks that would continue to pop up in various discographies for years to come.
“The Golden Age” still sits as one of his best opening tracks and if you put yourself in the shoes of his listeners twenty years ago, you can only imagine the bewilderment they must’ve expressed when the mood of the album never shifted from those opening notes. “Paper Tiger,” with its lush strings, feels like the signal for some of Radiohead’s most stirring and engaging songs that wouldn’t pop up on any of their albums for almost fifteen more years. Sea Change was that compelling and that far ahead of its time. Acoustic Beck was something new at this time and while many were left feeling unsure how to react to their once stoner god now that he’d felt heartbreak and wanted to commit it to record. This was a Beck that needed warming up to, an album that (for some) needed time to be fully understood. For me, I knew it was his crowning achievement and still firmly believe it’s the crown jewel of his discography.
Perhaps for the first time in his career, Sea Change represented an album that figuratively could have been made by another artist, something unthinkable for the records that came before it. Where previously Beck had sounded like an alien that dropped into LA from outer space who was here to shake up the game, Sea Change presented itself as Beck the artist, one capable of making a profound musical statement and he achieved it on the first try. Now, when Beck plays acoustic shows, this is what the crowd comes and hopes to hear. His melodic tunes feel prophetic and pure, his heart open, ready to be torn apart, and ready to have everyone witness his pain. This was indeed sad music full of lonesome tears he couldn’t cry no more.
Now, twenty years later, many will consider it to be his last great album (although I’d argue that not to be the case), but his popularity never wavered. Even after releasing such a melancholic album, Beck continued to rise in popularity and for the rest of his career, he maintained his position playing large venues and taking top billing at festivals around the world. His loud, rock tunes still bringing massive crowds to watch his sets and the cheers for “Loser” and “Where It’s At” are still unrivaled amongst the rest of his catalog, but when he takes things down a notch to deliver stunning renditions of “Lost Cause,” you can feel the collective grief sweep across the crowd.
Beck would eventually make a follow-up record, 2014’s underrated Morning Phase, that would go on to win the Grammy for Album of the Year (sorry Beyoncé), but that was the one time in his career when an album sounded more like a retread than a musical step forward. Even so, the fact that his confidence existed to make something sonically akin to Sea Change proved that this wasn’t just a one-off for Beck, but rather something he felt he was able to recapture.
Released in the first week of fall, there’s also some unintended thematic genius that falls into place with this record as well. As I mentioned, it was a sea change in his sound, but also seemed to be the perfect soundtrack to play as the seasons transitioned as well. For those who ignored the meaning behind the heart-string-tugging lyrics, the psychedelic wooze of the synths and wurlitzers also seemed to be the perfect background music to watching the leaves change and his soft voice and comforting melodies could easily wrap the listener in a blanket of sound much like the one you were probably under while exploring the album.
Eventually, Beck’s heartache would subside and he’d go back to this alternative stylings with new and exciting experimentations that would continue to payoff and find new fans along the way, but even when he tried to recapture the gold of Sea Change a second time, it came close, but ultimately proved that capturing this kind of lightning in a bottle may indeed be a once in a career kind of moment. For Beck, that’s hopefully a good thing as no one should go through this kind of heartbreak more than once even if it means never reaching your creative peak again. Even through a wavering discography that has been the case for him since this record, there is probably some kind of joy in not having to relive the pain that spurred this magical outpouring. For his fans, we have the album now and it’s ready and waiting for us when we need it, again hopefully not often in times of shared experiences, but rather more to marvel at the songwriting and it’s place as Beck’s best album.