Beck used 2002’s Sea Change to awaken the masses to his incredible eye for sentimental detail. Before that I’d always questioned his motives. I wasn’t sure if he was a wayward Beastie Boy, or some fragile Neil Young disciple; vulnerable enough to shake and rattle, but tough enough to order one more drink before last call.
Morning Phase is Beck’s call to arms. There’s a familiar rage running throughout the record begging you to sort out the joys and pains of every day life. It’s a Sunday afternoon gaze across a gasoline sunset you’ve come to know and love. Welcome to the age of understanding, and it sounds pretty grown up.