In Memoriam: Jeff Beck

 IN MEMORIAM: JEFF BECK

24 June 1944 to 10 January 2023

 

 

Jeff Beck is probably the one highly rated guitarist who came to prominence in the ‘60s that I’ve never gotten into, in his various incarnations.  My introduction to him was “Hi Ho Silver Lining,” which I thought of as a nice enough, lightweight psychedelic pop song but no more. I knew he’d replaced Eric Clapton in The Yardbirds and by the late ‘70s I  knew he’d turned to jazz rock with Blow by Blow (1975) and Wired (1976) and this completely turned me off him because at that time  in my teens, and thereafter, I had as much a dislike for jazz fusion styles as I had for prog rock.

 

My first real exposure to Beck’s early guitar style was on a compilation of tracks by The Yardbirds, some featuring Clapton and some featuring Beck. I thought the latter tunes were terrible, self-conscious White blues or proto psychedelic rock with little nous. Beck’s guitar playing was the only redeeming factor but it was hardly mind-blowing and, frankly, I preferred Clapton.

 

It was many years before I heard the Roger the Engineer album in full and could appreciate that iteration of the band more as well as what Beck brought to the mix.

 

Mostly, though, Beck was a musician I read about a lot, and realised how highly he was regarded in the music business amongst fellow musicians but also amongst rock writers.  None of the album reviews, though, suggested to me that I’d want to buy any of his albums, as my impression was that he stuck to jazz rock and AOR styles that had never appealed to me.

 

By the time I finally got to listen to Truth (1968), Beck-ola (1969), Rough and Ready (1971) and Jeff Beck Group (1972), I already knew Cream and the early Led Zeppelin albums well, and Beck’s records paled in comparison. The blues rock wasn’t tough enough for me and Rod Stewart just didn’t hack it as either blues or rock vocalist, and the Jeff Beck Group’s attempts at funkiness and soul sounded forced and anaemic.

 

And that was that. Now, after hearing about his death, I’m listening to the stuff I never bothered with back in the day, and I’m still not convinced.  The records might have made more of an impression on me when they were current releases and I was far younger but on whole my musical tastes haven’t changed materially and I probably wouldn’t have spent much time on Beck  then either.

 

Beck, Bogert & Appice (1973) isn’t bad but it isn’t more than merely pleasant either. For all the talent here, the music isn’t intriguing and the overall feel of the album is no different to so much indifferent hard rock of this era. Even more than prog rock, this style of proficient, indolent rock was the music punk was intended to destroy.

 

Blow by Blow and Wired pretty much sound like I suspected they would: top session musicians, technically very capable, playing at the top of their games, producing a product that is intellectually admirable but has no visceral impact and no emotional appeal, and is fit just for back ground play or as soundtrack music.  If I don’t even appreciate much now, so many years older, it would’ve done nothing for me when I was a kid.  If I must listen to this style of rock, I’d much rather listen to Frank Zappa.

 

On Crazy Legs (1993) Beck collaborated with The Big Town Playboys on a rockabilly album where he emulates one of his earliest guitar influences, Cliff Gallup.  It’s good fun, if you like rockabilly, which I do, and Beck is in fine form.

 

Other than these records, I didn’t really want to delve into every Jeff Beck release but I think it’s safe to say I’ll have to resign myself to accept that general critical opinion of Jeff Beck as a master musician yet not find a place for him in my music collection.  What he’s done is just not to my taste, regardless of the quality of the product.   Another good man is gone; one more of the musicians from the ‘60s that I at least knew of, if not admired much, and that gives one pause. A generation is slowly dying out.