JEFF BECK

Anchored in the heart of jazz-rock, Jeff Beck's first Group-less solo album finds our hero veering between dirty funk, mellow blues, and some truly delicious soul (helped out in this regard by none other than Stevie Wonder, returning the favour after Beck's contribution to tracks such as Superstition). Although Jeff's technical skills truly impress on this album, he also shows remarkable discipline, never indulging in empty technical showboating to the detriment of the intended emotional impact of a composition. He also clearly doesn't take himself too seriously - as witnessed by track titles like Constipated Duck - and allows his backing group a fair share of the spotlight to boot. (Max Middleton, in particular, does some really neat work on the keyboards). Solid.

D'yo hear what Mama said?

Six long years after he released his tribute to Gene Vincent and Cliff Gallup, and ten even longer years since he released what many including myself consider a proper album, Jeff Beck decided to leave the auto shop and go back into the guitar shop. With him, he brought a host of notables including Manu Katche, Jan Hammer, Tony Hymas, Pino Palladino, and others to give us a new blast of that hurricane of guitar madness that only he is capable of. This is not to say that it is all heavy riffing and speed. On the contrary, Beck shows a remarkable sense for melody and has a unique way of leading the music along in a variety of directions. Moving beyond the hard and classic rock stylings he had been presenting over the previous twenty years, Beck demonstrates his new found interest in techno. The first track, What Mama Said, blasts out like a souped up Astin Martin, complete with sound bites from the classic comedy It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World (which you should see if you haven't, it's very funny). The next track, greatly titled Psycho Sam continues in the same vein. But this is a Jeff Beck album, a man whose true peers are Eric Clapton, Jimi Hendrix, and Jimmy Page; this is a guitarist of the highest stature, and one who simply refuses to limit himself to any one style or genre. So after the nine minute long techno fest, he moves into some straight blues, that is straight for Jeff Beck. After this, we get the hard rock/fusion piece, Blast From the East, and then the robotic (in a good sense) Space for the Papa. Angel (Footsteps) reveals his gentler side, believe it or not, and then we go back to a couple of harder pieces, THX138, which really kicks it, and the appropriately named and altogether not sleep inducing Hip-Notica. The album ends with two more gentle pieces, the lush Declan, composed by Celtic great Donal Lunny, and the elegant Another Place. So, to follow the title, who else would give us techno combined, with the blues, combined with hard rock, combined with fusion, combined with Celtic, combined with space rock? Jeff Beck, of course. Who else were you thinking of?

The very modern sound of this (yet again) overdue album probably surprised a lot of fans, but really it shouldn't have. The change in musical direction (actually, more an update) had already been suggested a decade earlier in the bright digital gleam of "Jeff Beck's Guitar Shop", with its extended arsenal of guitar effects and the pile-driver fills of drummer Terry Bozzio.

On that album it was all merely part of the typically '80s overkill sound mix. Whereas here, at the end of the 20th century, Beck was actually challenging himself (and his followers) to look ahead, blending his well-worn Blues Rock instincts with emerging trends in techno and electronica. Needless to say, it was a wide departure from his highly regarded Jazz Rock fusions of the 1970s ("Blow By Blow", "Wired"). But as he would prove in subsequent albums Beck wasn't a musical tourist on a ten-day package holiday in unfamiliar territory; he was committed to learning the language and customs of this Brave New World, and then becoming its master.

The new album wasn't some sort of evolutionary mutation, either. Because much of techno is so coldly automated, adding the organic flame of Beck's guitar really brings it to life. That much ought to be clear from the first salvo of the album opener "What Mama Said", with its dynamic mile-a-minute electronic percussion and sampled voice interjections (I didn't recognize the Dick Shawn quote until reading about it elsewhere on these pages).

That immediate declaration of intent is followed by the industrial dance beat of "Psycho-Sam", and later refined in the trance-like mantras of the aptly-titled "Hip-Notica" and "THX138", the latter named after the 1971 George Lucas sci-fi movie (but missing a digit, perhaps to avoid any issue of royalties **). Along the way there's an unexpected throwback ("Brush with the Blues"), featuring some of Beck's purest-ever guitar wizardry over a simmering, slow-burn rock rhythm. This one track, one of the highlights of the album, was recorded live in concert: so where's the tape for the rest of the gig? And hold your breath for the swaggering "Space for the Papa", a jaw-dropping back-of-the-bayou rifferama swamp monster transported to the 21st century, maybe the best expression yet of Beck's guitar machismo.

By the time the last, lush chords of "Another Place" have faded to silence the listener will have been given an excellent introduction to the once-and-future Jeff Beck, with a tacit invitation toward further exploration (for me, it led to the guitarist's back catalogue of classics).

...a final note: before jotting down these comments I took the liberty of correcting the Progarchives database, replacing an erroneous question mark in the album title with the more authoritative (and accurate) exclamation. A small edit, but an important one: Beck wasn't asking us who else might be playing these high-tech vamps; he was telling us, and emphatically!

[ ** a belated postscript: after revisiting the movie "American Griffiti" I noticed that THX138 was actually the license plate number on Paul Le Mat's hot rod, a nod by director George Lucas to his earlier film. So the the tune was really another quintessential Beck homage to early '60s car culture. ]

I didn't realize how familiar I was with this album until I heard it for the first time, recently. Maybe the music of Jeff Beck was more ubiquitous in the 1970s than I remember, or else my cultural radar was better tuned as a kid than I give myself credit for. Either way, it's hard not to award five stars to an album that sidestepped so easily into my brain stem.

The polite but impeccable Funk Rock grooves here may not sound all that special to younger listeners, but for those of us able to clearly recall the middle 1970s the album stands tall as a quintessential artifact of its era. "Freeway Jam" is of course one of the classic fusion funkathons of all time, ranking right up there alongside Joe Zawinul's "Birdland" and "Ju-Ju-Man" by Klaus Doldinger (both released more or less around the same time). And yet the Beck tune feels oddly unfinished, like a demo tape made to capture the live-in-the-studio energy of an ace quartet. The fade-out is unforgivable, but just try to listen to the song on an actual freeway without putting the pedal to the metal.

Elsewhere it's melodies like the album opener "You Know What I Mean" and the Space Funk jam of "Constipated Duck" (gotta love such a perfectly descriptive title) that make listening to "Blow By Blow" something more than an air-guitarist's nostalgic wet dream. Check out, for example, the trademark crunch of Max Middleton's clavinet: an instrument every bit as emblematic of the '70s as its upscale cousin, the Mellotron.

The back-up band is superlative, perhaps lacking the instrumental fire and virtuosity of later collaborators like Jan Hammer and Narada Michael Walden (see the album "Wired", released one year later), but together providing a mellow, relaxed vibe perfectly suited to the music. Of course the core of the album belongs to Beck himself, as always a magician with his instrument, and without ever indulging in the empty pyrotechnics of other guitar heroes.

I was surprised to discover this was actually his first truly solo effort, but he was by then a veteran of several other bands, with more than a half-dozen albums already to his credit. All that experience paid off handsomely when "Blow By Blow" was recorded: the album emerged fully formed and whole, first in 1975 and much later, with a reassuring sense of déjà vu, in my own belated consciousness.

Jeff Beck's celebrated 1976 album sounds like the delinquent cousin of the 1975 classic "Blow By Blow", taking the same, sinuous Jazz Funk of the earlier effort and adding a few amplitudes of energy and power. The more relaxed vibe of its predecessor is missed, but the extra kick of adrenalin makes it a fair exchange.

The immediate difference between the two LPs is in the playing. Synthesizers are more prominent, courtesy of ex-Mahavishu Orchestrator Jan Hammer. And veteran drummer Narada Michael Walden (also ex-Mahavishnu) provides his typically nimble groove to half the titles here. The lack of such fluid rhythmic grace would arguably hurt future Beck albums, anchored more by the rock-solid backbeat of Simon Phillips and Terry Bozzio.

But here the guitarist was still at (or very near) the peak of his Fusion period, with a surplus of rock 'n' roll dynamics rising into the mix. Thus the erratic drive of "Led Boots"; the strut and swagger of "Come Dancing"; and a sultry cover of the Charlie Mingus standard "Goodbye, Pork Pie Hat". And of course the Jan Hammer anthem "Blue Wind" remains one of those innate road tunes that any fan over a certain age won't fail to recognize: the perfect accompaniment for high-speed interstate travel, windows down and volume up (Hammer does his own drumming on the track, by the way).

The final three cuts, all composed by Walden, are by comparison rather undistinguished Jazz Rock instrumentals, even with the unexpected (but not unwelcome) shift to acoustic guitar and grand piano for the lyrical closer "Love is Green". But the album in total was another valuable jewel in the crown of an undisputed rock guitar monarch.

Jeff Beck is certainly an accomplished guitarist and is famous for his jazz rock style and incredible dexterity on the guitar making him one of the most popular axe men of all time. On "Wired" Beck works alongside the likes of The Beatles legendary George Martin producing the album to an excellent standard. He is joined by bassist Wilbur Bascomb. Max Middleton is wonderful on clavinet, Rhodes piano, and keyboards. There are multiple drumming prowess by Jan Hammer, Richard Bailey, Ed Greene and Narada Michael Walden. The album features some of Beck's most beloved tracks played live on many occasions.

Beck is a very prolific artist having played in many bands and with some of the legends of rock over the year. He has played alongside the likes of Led Zeppelin guitar hero Jimmy Page in The Yardbirds; in fact Beck appeared in cult movie classic "Blow Up" in the scene where The Yardbirds played live in a sleazy pub and Beck systematically destroyed his axe. Beck also played with members of Vanilla Fudge and Cactus, Tim Bogert, and Carmine Appice, and even with drummer extraordinaire Cozy Powell in The Jeff Beck Group II. Beck has occasionally appeared on various artist's albums as a guest guitarist such as on Stevie Wonder's "Talking Book", Mick Jagger's "The Boss", and Stanley Clarke's "Journey To Love". On his solo albums Beck uses all his experience and skill to produce unforgettable compositions that focus on nimble fingered guitar skills and atmospheric blues meets jazz.

One such song that has become a definitive Beck classic is 'Led Boots' with bass augmented by low Moog synthesizer. Beck is magnificent on guitar and blazes with some searing riffs. 'Come Dancing' is more funky and has a free form blues guitar solo passage. 'Goodbye Pork Pie Hat' is a cover version of jazz virtuoso Charlie Mingus and has slow phrases and incredible string bends, helped by tremelo arm trademark work and soulful guitar licks on the Gibson Les Paul. 'Head For Backstage Pass' with a loud drum and Bascomb's bass solo figure gives Beck a chance to let rip with improv playing and technical fret work. The Fender Rhodes piano played by Max Middleton has a great sound.

Side two begins with 'Blue Wind' that features powerful percussion by Hammer, and is a true fan favourite of Beck's lengthy repertoire. The synth and guitar trade off beautifully competing for the spotlight and it rocks hard with an electrifying atmosphere. 'Sophie' is a melodic piece with rhythmic tempo, tremelo bar guitar notes and sweet clavinet embellishments. 'Play With Me' is a sensational track with Hammer and Beck amusingly enjoying the rhythmic time sigs playing along with each other sporadically. The MiniMoog sound is always a welcome addition to the music. 'Love Is Green' is a melancholy gentle piece that ebbs and flows with acoustic and piano beauty.

Both "Blow By Blow" and "Wired" are essential Beck albums and both deserve recognition among jazz fusion and guitar instrumental artists. Beck's style may be considered close to that of Steve Hackett or Andy Latimer in the fact that he focuses on a melodic style and rather than fret melting speedy arpeggios, Beck aims for the emotions and touches the soul with his excellent guitar work. I would prefer the more progressive Steve Hackett, or the blistering fret shredders Yngwie Malmsteen or Steve Vai, but Beck still has his place among the guitar greats.

After making belated but impressive amends at the tail end of the 80s for the misguided mess that was "Flash" with the energized "Guitar Shop," Jeff Beck took a break. Unbeknownst to me and his fans, our idea of a little time off and his were sun orbits apart because it turned out to be a decade before he'd get around to offering up a new album of original tunes. He didn't retreat into full-blown hibernation, exactly, for he conjured up some incidental music for an Australian TV miniseries ("Frankie's House" in '92) and took a starring role in an homage to Gene Vincent ("Crazy Legs" in '93) to indicate he was still breathing but after that came nada, making us wonder if he'd tragically lost his mojo. Perhaps the truth is he was merely content to enjoy the fruits of his labor and spend his mid-life years freely indulging in his antique car obsession whilst traipsing about his expansive English manor. If so, who'll hurl the first stone? Finally, in March of '99, he released his long-awaited "Who Else!" disc and reassured us without a doubt that he'd kept his arsenal of guitars near the couch so his magic touch on the fretboard wouldn't suffer from neglect. Beck-ola was alive and in good health, a relief to millions.

While the album is a bit too techno at times for my liking, in retrospect that aspect is more a side effect of the prevailing production trends that ruled at the end of the 20th century than a matter of JB trying to be "hip." The proof is in the pudding, as they say, and quality material can grant forgiveness for a multitude of minor sins. Unlike "Guitar Shop" where he'd put together a solidified trio with Terry Bozzio and Tony Hymas, this project was much more a solo endeavor. He brought in some talented close buddies like Jan Hammer, Hymas and the great Manu Katche to contribute alongside bassist Pino Palladino (sounds like a variety of wine, no?), drummer Steve Alexander and synth expert Simon Wallace so it's obvious that he intended to make some serious yet joyful noises this time around. The overall impression I get is that, in light of his stellar track record, he knew he had absolutely nothing to prove or lose. Therefore Jeff was concentrating on just being himself. He couldn't have chosen a better path to tread.

Jeff opens things up with what would eventually be a Grammy-nominated instrumental, "What Mama Said." The track's ferocious beginning is as hard-driving as I've ever heard him, making it immediately apparent that he hadn't lost his penchant for taking a walk on the wild side during his ten-year sabbatical. The song's ascending wall of noise is very Sgt. Pepper-ish in an honorable sort of way but the highlight of the tune comes when Beck vamps insanely over locomotive drums. With "Psycho Sam" the hard-as-granite rock mentality continues but with a more cohesive melody line to focus on. He throws in an intriguing bridge containing a slight Indian vibe but so much for mellowing with age, folks. Jeff attacks this song ruthlessly with his razor-sharp axe and shreds it to kindling right before your very ears. A live cut, "Brush With The Blues," follows and it provides a much-needed respite from the onslaught of his fury. The tune's title is correct in that it has a bluesy aura yet it's far from being chained to the traditional and often tired 12-bar variety. To the delight of the crowd, Beck fills holes imaginatively and listening to him perform is one "How'd he do that?" moment after another. A bold undercarriage sticks "Blast from the East" right in your face and the odd time signature the players kick around readily distinguishes it from what's occurred previously. Let's just say that Jeff blazes through this number like a raging river of fire and nothing is left unscathed.

"Space For the Papa" opens with a spacey, cosmic introduction that sets the table for some tasty, deep-fried funk. The tune reveals itself to be an empty white canvas for Beck to throw buckets of bright neon guitar riffs upon, creating a fine piece of modernistic aural art. The gifted Tony Hymas wrote the next song, "Angel (Footsteps)," wherein a light, inoffensive hip-hop rhythm lays down a soft foundation to support this ethereal number so that Jeff gets to show off his genius for manipulating the upper registers of his instrument. Tony's dense layers of keyboards produce a glowing backdrop for him that's warm and highly hypnotic. On "THX 138" a busy but invigorating pulse dominates the proceedings. Beck's guitar-generated howls and screams bring to mind some kind of mad scientist's mechanical pterodactyl gone haywire, terrorizing a once-sleepy hillside village without mercy. The interesting 7/8 beat pattern that propels "Hip-Notica" promises great things and the energetic song doesn't disappoint. The Hammond B3 (or its artificial equivalent. I can't tell anymore.) organ sound gives it a sultry air and kudos to Jeff for admirably restraining himself from injecting too much riffing into the tune's cool aura. A heavy rock stomp drenches "Even Odds" with a menacing varnish but the arrangement also takes you off into some adventurous detours that keep it from turning into a predictable dirge. Beck's delicate treatment of a traditional folk song, "Declan," follows and it's a treat. A dreamy mist drapes the beautiful melody with an appropriate Irish personality that benefits from spirit-lifting pipes and Jeff's fuzzy sustain comes off not unlike the emotional voice of a violin. The album's finale is "Another Place," and it's all Beck. His short but breathtaking performance can soothe the worst of savage beasts and one is struck by his unyielding command of the instrument he's mastered as completely as anyone ever has.

While this disc's frequent use of electronic drums kept it from attaining masterpiece status I still heartily endorse it as a must-have but I'm not finished just yet. Realizing I get perilously close to gushing in the following statement, I'll venture on without regard to or fear of the reader's potential disdain: Jeff Beck is an icon of my generation that has risen above definition. He's a virtuoso that can shred with the best of 'em but he's not just a shredder. He's a technician of the highest caliber but he's much more than just a scale-running automaton. If anything he's a risk-taking, no-holds-barred, courageous explorer of uncharted fusion territory who simultaneously possesses the passionate heart of a seasoned Delta bluesman that guides his soul. I daresay that we're all in the presence of one of the most influential guitarists that ever strolled upon terra firma and those of you who have yet to check out his amazing body of work (least of all this excellent record) are really missing out. "Who Else!" indeed.

After Jeff Beck figuratively sharted in his Levis (and on many of his adoring fans) in 1985 by releasing his dubious, demeaning "Flash" album he wisely went on a much-needed hiatus from his career to reassess and, presumably, to do some laundry. One need only to notice the decade we're dealing with and it becomes obvious that no artist in that murky era was immune from being infected by the dreaded MTV virus, even a revered guitar deity like Jeff Beck. Therefore, we should all grant him a lot of slack for, like so many of his esteemed colleagues, succumbing to its siren-like allure and for trying to appear trendy and "hip" to a generation of musical nomads. Retreating to his 70-acre estate outside London for four years evidently did the boy a world of good for he eventually re-hooked up with keyboard wiz Tony Hymas and enlisted the services of American-born drum wunderkind Terry Bozzio to create some fresh sounds as the 80s mercifully came to a close. "Guitar Shop" was the result and the intriguing cover art said volumes. Jeff had put his amazing talent up on the racks for an overhaul and some crucial maintenance in order to get his impressive vehicle back to where it alternately purred like a kitten and roared like a lion. It worked.

Yet the foul taste left in my mouth from the sell-out that was "Flash" lingered and, mostly out of spite, I avoided this record for a very, very long time. It wasn't until these last few years (mainly through television exposures) that I finally realized that Beck is not only just as good as ever but continuing to get better with age. I've started to go back and listen to what he's been doing for the last two decades and have come to the conclusion that I was foolishly hurting no one but myself by boycotting Jeff. He got over "Flash" and moved on. I didn't. And that was to my detriment. "Guitar Shop" is a very good album and more consistent than the three studio LPs that followed his 1975 masterpiece, "Blow by Blow." Whether I acknowledged it or not as the 90s began, Beck was back, armed to the teeth, accompanied by two seasoned mercenaries and he wasn't taking any prisoners.

I've been an admirer of Terry Bozzio since his days as part of one of my guilty pleasures, the quirky band Missing Persons, and so I knew that his contributions would be sizeable. The record's namesake cut opens the album with Terry demanding your undivided attention via punchy, ringing drums as Jeff prods and teases as only he can with wild axe noises as Bozzio verbally injects reams of slick salesman-worthy "industry jargon" heard frequently in the retail guitar biz. There's no discernable melody but that's okay, they opt to take you on a driving, raucous carnival ride through a scintillating maze of sounds. A heavy rock riff sets the tone for "Savoy," a funky locomotive of a tune wherein Beck shows he hasn't lost his infatuation with the effects that were constantly being introduced during the 80s ad nauseum. While these gadgets often detracted from his prowess on "Wired" and, to a lesser extent, on "There and Back," here he demonstrates a modicum of restraint in his employment of them without sacrificing any of the energy they can generate. Tony's "Behind the Veil" is next and Terry's strong but subtle reggae beat propels this song provocatively. Jeff draws upon his knack for melodic runs and Hymas' synthesizers provide a stability and depth of field that corrals and tempers the volatility of his two cohorts.

Bozzio lays down a menacing, heavy blues beat for "Big Block," a hard-hitting track that takes the listener through some intriguing twists and turns. Beck is simply amazing as he tosses in one maniacal lick after another. This is one hot tune. In an abrupt display of contrast, however, they then produce the serene "Where Were You." Jeff performs its haunting, gorgeous melody in front of Tony's dense soundscape, creating a dreamy aura. Beck's masterful ability to manipulate guitar harmonics is damn near supernatural and never as much as on this beautiful number. It's heavenly. The hypnotic spell the trio weaves is suddenly broken, however, by the following cut, "Stand On It." Here their Led Zep-ish approach to authentic Brontosaurus rock gets me right where I live and Bozzio pounds it out with proper Bonzo-styled zeal. The song's progressive, upwardly mobile structure is highly satisfying and Jeff's slide guitar solo is suitably demonic.

For "A Day in the House" Terry once again mans the mike to recite a bossy, authoritarian soliloquy that gives this song a giddy, eclectic spin. Hymas' keyboards are bright and dazzling, offering a point of reference to counterbalance Beck's entertaining shenanigans. The track's multi-layered construction is imaginative and colorful. They then shift 180 degrees for "Two Rivers." Tony erects another lush and glorious backdrop that drenches this tune in a romantic shower of radiant starlight. Jeff's guitar is ever so expressive and penetrating yet he never lets himself get mushy or condescending as to detract from the emotional impact of the central melody. The band closes with "Sling Shot," a startling wakeup call that rudely rouses you from the reverie induced by the previous track. They hone a sharp edge on this one and it races like a formula one car on a straightaway. There's nary a dull moment to be found as all three participants get a chance to get their ya-yas out. Fasten your seat belts, kids, and don't go sticking your head out the window.

You may, with ample reason, label me crazy as a loon but I find that many of the songs on "Guitar Shop" remind me of Weather Report in that they have unpredictable arrangements and no discernable allegiance to tradition. It may be that Beck, during his self-imposed vacation, rediscovered his inner rebel and cast off any misplaced inclinations toward trying to appeal to the video-addicted public, allowing his muse to guide him back to what he does best - letting his guitar do all the talking. I wish I'd not acted like a sulking cuckold and ignored this album when it came out in October of '89. I only deprived myself of enjoying one of my all-time favorite guitar slingers' best offerings for 20+ years. You live, you learn, as Alanis sang. Three and a half stars for this baby.

After the success of Truth, the Jeff Beck Group was slated for another tour of the United States in 1969 and felt they needed to justify it by having an album to promote. Now, a lot of people accuse artists of slapping together a second album with little to no concern for quality just to cash in. This album would seem to be like that because it was put together very quickly, barely clocks over 30 minutes, and contains two new renditions of classic rock and roll songs. But this is The Jeff Group, the guys who invented heavy music. Though short, it packs a serious punch.,

The album is more raucous and bluesy than its predecessor and not as diverse. Yet again, they take the familiar, in this case the two Elvis classics All Shook Up and Jailhouse Rock and render them virtually unrecognizable until you get to the vocals. Once again, Rod Stewart sings as if his throat had been torn out and sounds great doing it. Beck himself plays with greater abandon and rips some serious lines out of his axe, flashy and intense. Ron Wood is still playing bass, and Nicky Hopkins has become a full fledged member of the band. In fact, his piece, Girl From Mill Valley adds an unusual soft tune, soft and smoky that is. This is no frills rock, but performed with imagination and grit. Progsters will be most interested in the final tune, Rice Pudding, which contains a rippin' riff, nice dynamics, sheer power, and unfortunately and abrupt ending (the kind I really do not like). All seven tracks were recorded over a two week span. The 2006 version, however, contains a few more tracks, some recorded earlier, which includes alternate versions of the Elvis tracks.

Finesse was not Beck's purpose at this time. He wanted to rock and he wanted to rock hard. There is no attempt here to do otherwise. Although Beck-Ola does not rise to the same heights as Truth, it kicks even more. For those that want to hear GOOD raunchy rootsy bluesy rock, they will be well advised to give this one a spin.

It is apparent that Jeff Beck found a sound that many had been looking for at the time, a sound that would influence virtually everybody who was ever interested in heavy music. When I use that term though, remember this is 1968, not 1969, 70, or beyond. In an era of ever stretching out the spaceiness or length of a song (otherwise known as psychedelia), Beck goes in several other directions simultaneously here. Foremost is focusing on the blues. This is not the blues of the Rolling Stones (who did not do it well in my opinion) or that of John Mayall (who did do it well), but the smoky greasy blues of the back alleys and juke joints. At the same time, this music ROCKS harder than just about anything else around and in a way that is not just an emulation of the blues. There is an element of psychedelia here, most clearly heard on the opening number, Shapes of Things. Do not think however, that Beck is merely amping up the familiar and playing it sloppier, or even that he had simplified things. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Again, the opening number demonstrates this. He took a familiar song from recent memory and completely rearranged it, including changing the time signature, to the point that it was completely unrecognizable until the vocals come in. The album is surprisingly diverse too. Yeah, a lot of blues and blues-rock, but where else can you hear Willie Dixon's You Shook Me followed by the show tune Ol' Man River, which in turn is followed by a lovely acoustic rendition of Greensleeves? Lest one think that there was any antagonism between Beck and his fellow Yardbird guitar gods, we get Jimmy Page's composition, Beck Bolero, one of my favorite songs on the whole album and a true rock instrumental classic. The album closes with another Willie Dixon great, I Ain't Superstitious. There are a few more songs here, including the great Morning Dew and two Jeffrey Rod numbers, Let Me Love You and Blues De Luxe. Everything mentioned here represents the original album, and I find nothing weak about it. During an era of expanding musical horizons, Jeff Beck delivered a true highlight with Truth. The musicians are worthy of mention as well. There is the band besides Beck himself: Mickey Waller on drums and percussion, Ron Wood surprisingly on bass, and Rod Stewart whose lead vocals sound like a man twice his stage (but then this was a young man who was once deported for vagrancy). Studio musicians include Jimmy Page, John Paul Jones (hmmm), Keith Moon, future Journey co-founder (don't hate him for that) Ansely Dunbar, Nicky Hopkins, whose piano plays a major role in the sound, and an individual only identifies as Mysterious Scottish Bloke who plays bagpipes on Morning Dew. I suspect this might be a case of "use a bagpipe go to jail" kind of thing. The 2006 expanded version gives us a couple of extra tracks not released on the original, a couple of alternate versions (singles and such which I don't really feel the need for), plus three tracks that Mr. Beck said he would just as soon forget ever existed. You see, once he left the Yardbirds, his manager wanted to use his smoldering good looks and turn him into a pop icon. After all, Clapton left the band because he did not want to play that "pop s#!t." Not that I would use such terms to describe the ground-breaking non-straight blues they were exploring, but who am I to argue with God? The disk closes with three numbers thankfully unlike anything else with Jeff Beck's name: the AOR tunes Tallyman and Hi Ho Silver Lining, plus the instrumental Love is Blue which I must admit is played rather nicely. As to Beck's voice, the less said the better. I think that much of what Beck did with Truth was a way to get away from this manager's machinations. All said then, Truth by Jeff Beck has a lot to offer. Historically, it is a very important album. Also, and more importantly, it is inventive in a number of ways even if those may seem subtle to us in the new millennium. That the heavy factor was quickly trumped by the likes of Led Zeppelin and Blue Cheer has nothing to do with the quality and influence of this album. Hardcore Prog fans will not be too interested in this one because of the bluesiness, but anyone who is interested in late 60s rock, or heavy duty down 'n' dirty rock and roll, good guitar playing and good singing would do well to check this one out. Many have argued that it does not quite transcend its era, but I have come to disagree with that. Four stars.