Jeff Beck “Truth”

This is the first Jeff Beck Group album, put out in 1968, and it starts off really well with a very weird version of the familiar Yardbirds song, “Shapes of Things.” It sounds like the tape is being sped up and slowed down–it’s really kind of playful and heavy at the same time. Jeff Beck’s liner notes say, about the song, “appropriate background music if you have the Vicar over for tea.” The next song, “Let Me Love You”– I will argue without even listening to anything else recorded by Jeff Beck in 40 years– is the best thing ever recorded by Jeff Beck. It’s got a nice bass part– maybe that’s why I like it– played by, apparently, Ron Wood—that sounds like a sleazy guy with a tiny moustache crawling through the slime and smoke of all the late night taverns of hell. But there are already warning signs of wanky guitar ahead. The singer sounds suspiciously like Rod Stewart– oh, it is! Four songs through side one, and it’s a great party record– I’ve already ripped the tabs off of three Stroh’s. And then… “Ol’ Man River”?

I guess this is back when rock stars thought they were gods, and they were, essentially. (They still THINK they’re gods.) They could do no wrong. So if they want to do a pretentious, uncompelling version of “Ol’ Man River” on their record, we just have to say it’s cool. But it just killed the party, that’s for sure. Turn the record over and it gets WORSE. A ridiculous acoustic version of “Greensleeves” starts off side two, and even though it’s only 1:47, the girls have left the party, went off with the dangerous Led Zeppelin guys. No one left but us blues aficionados and guitar technicians, so there’s nothing left to do but practice and practice, make that guitar sing. It sounds like a snake charmer, a cello, a violin… but then heavy metal strikes back momentarily. But the girls are still gone, and now there’s an EIGHT minute blues song with a fake “live” treatment that flashes forward 40 years to these guys playing dinner theater, bald, huge stomachs, and still, tragically, either puffy sleeves or no sleeves.

I’m being too hard on this record, maybe– there’s a really weird piano solo on this long blues number, played by Nicky Hopkins. But the guitar– I’m sorry we have the benefit and misfortune of 40 years of bad, excessive, uninspired, derivative guitar solos since this record was recorded. Maybe back then this sounded amazing– but I just don’t think so. The last song just embarrassed me for even owning a guitar and makes me want to cut my hair and do volunteer work or something.