Photo by Wes Naman

BY KEVIN HOPPER
Following greatness is never easy. U2 had their difficulties following up 1987's mega-success Joshua Tree. Likewise, the Rolling Stones have spent the last quarter century trying to offer a proper follow-up to 1981's ground-breaking album Tattoo You. Such was the case when gap-closer Beck Hansen walked onto the stage of Albuquerque's Kiva Auditorium on Tuesday night (Sep, 23, 2008).

The task at hand for the ever-talented singer-songwriter wasn't following up a record, nor chart-topping single. Rather, Beck's duty to a sold out audience was to top, or at least match, his last performance at the same venue two years ago, which was accompanied by a mini-show (of sorts)  performed by a band of larger than life puppets. 

For this reviewer, the show was arguably one of he best and Albuquerque audience had ever witnessed. Certainly, since it was Beck's first-ever appearance in this Duke City, it was the best he had ever offered up to his local minions. Which brings us back to following up greatness.

 

Plainly stated, Tuesday's performance (in support of Beck's latest LP Modern Guilt) didn't top his former show. But that's not to say it wasn't worth watching — at least after the first few songs. The opener, "Devil's Haircut" off of 1996's Odelay, was hinky from the get go. Gone was the fluidity and cut-n-paste rhythmic gloss that lent the recorded version offered. Likewise, the next few songs that the clad in black Beck served up was herkey, jerkey and not so fun for Albuquerque.

 

And as I watched with circumspect wrinkled brow from the middle of a crowd that didn't know whether to bob its collective head or shake its erstwhile collective booty, the always unpredictable Beck avoided careening off a rhythmic cliff and steered the vehicle into a tight left turn. Just when servings of time-worn material such as "Mixed-Business" and "Loser" seems to have lost its luster, the ever capable Beck showed he could save face. The turning point came when traditional instruments were put to rest and technology stepped-up in the form of futuristic hand-held audio devices that Beck and his band commandeered for the songs "Hell Yes" and "Black Tambourine," from 2005's Guero, which was followed-up (get where I'm going?) by the album Beck was touring for on this night — Modern Guilt.

 

And though the more than memorable performance two years hence that was likely in the back of the majority of this crowd's mind, from this point on, it was all but forgotten as Beck let forth a wave of new and old material that included a lounge-laden version of "Nicotine & Gravy," a sublime spat of acoustic songs taken from 2002's paradigmatic Sea Change and an encore that payed homage to Bob Dylan's "Leopard -Skin Pill Box Hat."

Though the visuals — a sort of Pac-Man-slash-Battleship-esque cavalcade of tiny lightbulb dots — provided a worthy backdrop, it hardly matched the never to be forgotten puppetry of two years ago. But all that really didn't matter when Beck and company let loose with show closer "El Pro," which managed to tear the roof off the joint.

Sure, following up greatness is a difficult thing. But what do you do when greatness follows greatness? Only future local Beck shows (and let's hope there are many) will tell the tale.

 

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