Commentary

Gateway Acts: How Beck opened up a whole new world to an evangelical boy from the Midwest

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While I was hopelessly submerged in the bowels of Christian Rock throughout the "Loser" phenomenon, I eventually discovered Beck in January of '97 during his Saturday Night Live performances. This was in support of the Odelay album, and seeing this skinny, soul singer in a tight suit and ascot slide about the stage like a fashionable Golem at The James Brown Review was a dramatic departure from the 2Pac and Marilyn Manson that my school-mates were into. He was effeminate, glamorous and performed art with a silliness at the core and straight-faced sobriety on the surface.

Naturally, I ran out and bought Odelay the next day. The experience of listening to the album (three or four times a day, for the next year) was as close to a psychotropic mind-fuck as my sober, fifteen-year-old brain had ever encountered. By then, I'd been exposed to all the decaffeinated punk that the Jesus Freaks had to offer, and while there was some of that raw-energy and unrelenting tempo in Odelay, there was also '60s soul, bar-room blues and classic hip-hop, all peppered with surreal, dadaist cut-up lyrics that could make you laugh and become horny at the same time.

Predictably, an Evangelical boy from the Midwest had little exposure to all this. And I had little idea that as I scoured libraries and traveled long distances to record stores to investigate all these new sounds, I was mimicking the behavior of a young Beck Hansen in L.A. Despite the fact that his grandfather, Al Hansen, was a major icon of the Fluxus art movement, and his mother, Bibbe Hansen, was a go-go dancer for the Velvet Underground and maternal figure for the L.A. punk scene, Beck still ventured past this rich history, spending hours soaking up the 78 rpm records of Blind Lemon Jefferson, Jimmie Rodgers and Woody Guthrie that he checked out from the local library.

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Josiah M. Hesse
Contact: Josiah M. Hesse