Beck
The Information
on Interscope RecordsA

Beck has a new album out, and it's about spaceships, Modesto, Calif. and cell phones. Or maybe not. It's a shady album, filled with crevices and corners. It's called The Information, and with it, assumption-seekers might think they've found the Rosetta Stone to crack the music-amalgamation code.

In theory, Beck should be the greatest artist of our generation. Or at least, as he was frequently called throughout the '90s, "the new Keanu Reeves." Somehow, a gangly white kid from the grittiest parts of Los Angeles, caught in a vortex of early hip-hop, Brazilian tropicalia, delta blues, country and grunge, popped out songs as lyrically clever as they were decked out sonically. Style and substance finally met in the hilarious '90s, and after a smack-addicted first single-"Loser"-registered him on a national scale, he went along developing a discography Donovan could only dream about. Put a rap beat with Bali backup singers and place a chunk of great American songwriting on top-and don't forget the metal-solo sample somewhere, too.

He also mastered the art of publicity -obliquely funny interviews, off-guarding honesty mixed with pranks-remixes ("Guerolito") and fantastically strange MTV appearances in the mid-1990s (see YouTube for the clip). Amalgamation created dividends, and Beck knew how to dance, too.

So what about The Information, then? Is it good, is it important, does it funk? Sure it does, but what does that matter? You either know Beck or you don't. The reviews for his albums read similarly to those of most upstanding artists of the day-see: Wilco, Radiohead, Nick Lachey-didactic debates on whether or not so-and-so's latest album is as good as so-and-so's last/older releases. We're in a vortex; debating the comparative quality of a musician's albums only leads to old age. The only really important questions are: "How is it doing for you now," and later, "How is it doing for you now?" People change and, accordingly, a person's perspective and sonic judgment may as well. Beck certainly has changed a lot from Stereopathetic Soulmanure.

So I could say, "Gee, 'Nausea' sounds like The Stooges in South America" or "'Strange Apparition' is a fantastic piano-and-cymbal song, Oe la '68 Stones'" or even "'The Horrible Fanfare/Landslide/Exoskeleton' not only includes a sample of Serge Gainsbourg, a spoken-word section featuring Dave Eggers and Spike Jonze and a quick rewrite of 'Black Tambourine,' but it also goes on for over 10 minutes and sort of sucks." But I choose not to. Instead, I'm dancing to "We Dance Alone" and "Cellphones Dead" as I write this review.

So, on what to judge this album? Here are two things: The album comes with homemade videos for each of the 15 songs-low-budget, monotonous, surreal and sometimes sophomoric. Also, it comes with stickers for you to create the front jacket. So, basically, buy it for the stickers, stay for the videos and have dessert off the album. Or the other way around.