Under the Radar’s Writers on Their Favorite Albums

In the long and impressive discography of Beck albums, there are over 25 years of singular, genre-bending records to top anyone else’s personal top 10 list of favorite albums (1994’s Odelay or 2002’s Sea Change often spring to mind); but 2005’s Guero seems to be a forgotten gem for many, hiding in the shadows of its more renowned siblings. But for 15-year old me, hearing “E-Pro” on the radio one day as I was getting ready for school, Guero was the key that unlocked a world of discovery I couldn’t have predicted, and it’s impact on my musical sensibilities lasts to this day. That unassuming quality that Guero has when stacked up next to it’s predecessors belies an album that somehow manages to encapsulate the entirety of Beck’s erratic career, sampling from the buffet of inspirations to create something bizarrely beautiful.

For an artist whose roots are inextricably tied to Los Angeles, it’s no surprise that Beck’s ninth studio album feels like a postcard from the bustling streets and barrios of our shared hometown; from the mariachi bands of Boyle Heights to the vendors dotting the sidewalks of Pico and Vermont, listening to this album feels as familiar and colorful as my commute home from work. Beck manages to pay homage to the melange of Latin American cultural influences he was raised amongst without dipping into cultural appropriation territory, and doesn’t hesitate to poke fun of his “white boy” persona along the way (“guero” is Spanish slang for “whitey” or “blondie”). Guero is, in my humble opinion, a perfect introduction to an artist who jumps with ease from disparate genres, skipping from grunge to hip-hop to tropicalia to blues in a matter of minutes—where else are you going to hear Christina Ricci speaking Japanese (“Hell Yes”), Jack White playing bass (“Go It Alone”), or Petra Haden yodeling (“Rental Car”) on the same album?

For someone like me, raised in the Armenian suburb of Glendale (only minutes was recorded and produced by Dust Brothers), this album helped me navigate my way through the neighborhoods of Los Angeles that I had been told by my own sheltered immigrant family members to stay away from. Fourteen years have passed since first entered my atmosphere and since then, I’ve met and interviewed the man himself a few times and seen him in concert 30-plus times; I’ve met friends and lovers through our shared obsession with Beck’s music, I’ve stumbled onto dozens of artists I love through his influence and collaborations, and I’ve used these songs to heal heartbreaks and inspire my own creative passions. place on the top of my list is clearly well-deserved.