Matti P The last studio album of the legendary guitarist Jeff Beck (r.i.p. January 2023) was the first one since Loud Hailer (2016). It is a collaboration with Johnny Depp (b. 1963), best known as one of the most succesful movie actors of his generation. Without any knowledge on Depp's musical activities, I expected his contribution to be mainly that of a vocalist, but besides Beck obviously on lead guitars, Depp actually is the most prolific player of various instruments on this album. It's titled 18 because the creative process made the two feel young again.

Beck's distinctive electric guitar, which appears also on Roger Waters' Amused to Death (1992), gives the album's overall sound a slight resemblance to latter-day Pink Floyd here and there, but when it comes to song material, this is a widely varied set of 13 tracks. The serene instrumental opener 'Midnight Walker' composed by Davy Spillane could as well appear on a Floyd album. The first proper song 'The Death and resurrection Show' is an aggressively noisy industrial rock piece originally of Killing Joke.

'Time' (Dennis Wilson / K. L. Wilson) feels badly overproduced at places, but the calm, slow tempo backbone of the song is pretty nice and Depp's singing is pleasant. 'Sad Mother****in' Parade' is credited to Beck and Depp. It doesn't feature singing per se but spoken voice over the heavy-thumping, programmed soundscape. This far the album feels very perplexing in a negative way. 'Don't Talk (Put Your Head on My Shoulder)' is a Beach Boys song from their classic album Pet Sounds, and this atmospheric version relies mostly on Beck's wailing guitar and much less on vocals.

The album's other original new piece 'This Is a Song for Miss Hedy Lamarr' (Lamarr was an Austrian-born actress and scientific inventor) was written by Johnny Depp with Tommy Henriksen who plays the keyboards on it. A decent minor song. Funnily, against my above mentioned expectations on Depp's role, he seems to be pushing himself back as a vocalist, perhaps to underline his musician's role.

For the song material from the 60's and 70's, in my opinion things get better for the album's latter half, even if the vocals do remain in a minor role. 'Caroline, No', another Pet Sounds perennial, has been turned into a poshy platform for Beck's guitar. 'Ooo Baby Baby' is a Smokey Robinson song and among the most gratifying tunes for vocal-oriented listeners. The rest of the songs cover Marvin Gaye ('What's Going On' -- pretty good but far from the excellence of the original), Velvet Underground ('Venus in Furs'), King Curtis ('Let It Be Me'), Janis Ian ('Stars' -- a beautiful, serene highlight) and John Lennon ('Isolation' -- among the most faithful cover tunes here).

Jeff Beck fans can enjoy this album without fearing that some Hollywood star on vocals is trying to steal the spotlight. The song material and the way it's presented varies almost painfully at first but in the end offers a fairly pleasant if a bit overproduced set.

as1978 I can't find a true identity for this second Jeff Beck Group.I know it's common thing but I'm a Cozy Powell fan and Jeff Beck is one of my favorite guitarists. Also here plays Max Middleton, one of the best keyboard players of that era. Bob Tench is too underrated a singer and bassist, Clive Chaman, is certainly no fallback. It must be said that Jeff Beck was a fantastic innovator and without him there would be no Heavy Metal. But it is equally true that here, in this "Rough and Ready", he drastically breaks with the past to devote himself to a sort of POP Jazz Rock that has Soul and Funk moments that I don't mind at all. Only that POP component does not help to understand this choice.And today it also destabilizes the fact that the next album, "Jeff Beck Group", is a really beautiful and compelling Blues Rock album and more in line with what Jeff Beck was known for.

Musically I think that "Rough and Ready" is more interested in an audience open to certain contaminations of Progressive Soul and certainly Blues Rock than a Jazz audience, although it is, in truth, a Jazz Rock album with various digressions in other musical genres (and well blended). In my head, although "Rough and Ready" is certainly a good album ... It just doesn't convince me as an album. Great music in general. Which convinces me, as single songs. But that leaves me very bitter in my mouth. And that makes me say "Rough and Ready" is a wrong album.

js You have to admire an artist who can keep changing and challenging themselves, even late in their career. After decades of fusion and instrumental rock albums, Beck has thrown us a serious left turn curve here with the recent “Loud Hailer”. Its as if Beck has discovered political punk rock 40 years after the fact, but its never too late to try something new as “Loud Hailer” turns out to be one of the hottest and most emotionally charged albums of Beck’s very successful and lengthy career. The way this album came about is interesting in itself, apparently Jeff was at a party, thrown by friend Roger Taylor, at which the ‘entertainment’ was the noisy post-punk RnB of vocalist Rosie Bones and guitarist Carmen Vandenberg. Jeff was so impressed with what he heard that he invited them to help make his new album, and also enlisted their producer, Fillipo Cimatti.

Not much from Jeff Beck’s past could prepare long time fans for this new album. Although Jeff is well known for his virtuoso guitar solos, there is very little of that on here, instead the emphasis is on Rosie Bones and her angry and passionate political musings. Beck’s supporting guitar work is rough and bluesy, drawing heavily on rootsy Missippii delta riffs that are turned into massive industrial sledge hammers via Fillipo Cimatti’s very modern and bigger than life production. Although the sound on here is thoroughly modern, the rawness of the music recalls classic hell raisers like Iggy Pop, the MC5 and early Funkadelic.

Some have been critical of Rosie’s lyrics, possibly searching for something more eloquent and definitive, but great rock lyrics are never about surety, instead the random energy of doubt, frustration, and confusion have been the hallmark of rock’s passion since the early days of ‘My G..g..g..generation". Along with her anti-’new order’ anarcho political lyrics, Rosie also sings about current vacuous pop culture, difficult relationships, the price we pay in pursuit of carnal pleasure, and some hope for the future. It helps that Rosie is a great singer who can veer from punky raps to sweet melodies and anything else in between. The icing on the cake is Fillipo Cimatti’s massive industrial strength production. Jeff Beck’s guitar has never sounded so huge and destructive, and the beats supply the crushing blows to back it all up.

Those looking for Jeff Beck’s fusion guitar playing best pass on this one, but if you are looking for raw angry poetic gut level rock/RnB that combines the best of John Lennon, Iggy Pop, Curtis Mayfield, Curt Cobain and Black Flag, then you have to come to the right place. “Loud Hailer” will be one of the best rock records to come out this year. Put this in the car and turn it up loud and I bet people will get out of your way, this music is an unstoppable tidal wave.

Chicapah After making belated but impressive amends at the tail end of the 80s for the misguided mess that was “Flash” with the energized “Guitar Shop,” Jeff Beck took a break. Unbeknownst to me and his fans, our idea of a little time off and his were sun orbits apart because it turned out to be a decade before he’d get around to offering up a new album of original tunes. He didn’t retreat into full-blown hibernation, exactly, for he conjured up some incidental music for an Australian TV miniseries (“Frankie’s House” in ’92) and took a starring role in an homage to Gene Vincent (“Crazy Legs” in ’93) to indicate he was still breathing but after that came nada, making us wonder if he’d tragically lost his mojo. Perhaps the truth is he was merely content to enjoy the fruits of his labor and spend his mid-life years freely indulging in his antique car obsession whilst traipsing about his expansive English manor. If so, who’ll hurl the first stone? Finally, in March of ’99, he released his long-awaited “Who Else!” disc and reassured us without a doubt that he’d kept his arsenal of guitars near the couch so his magic touch on the fretboard wouldn’t suffer from neglect. Beck-ola was alive and in good health, a relief to millions.

While the album is a bit too techno at times for my liking, in retrospect that aspect is more a side effect of the prevailing production trends that ruled at the end of the 20th century than a matter of JB trying to be “hip.” The proof is in the pudding, as they say, and quality material can grant forgiveness for a multitude of minor sins. Unlike “Guitar Shop” where he’d put together a solidified trio with Terry Bozzio and Tony Hymas, this project was much more a solo endeavor. He brought in some talented close buddies like Jan Hammer, Hymas and the great Manu Katche to contribute alongside bassist Pino Palladino (sounds like a variety of wine, no?), drummer Steve Alexander and synth expert Simon Wallace so it’s obvious that he intended to make some serious yet joyful noises this time around. The overall impression I get is that, in light of his stellar track record, he knew he had absolutely nothing to prove or lose. Therefore Jeff was concentrating on just being himself. He couldn’t have chosen a better path to tread.

Jeff opens things up with what would eventually be a Grammy-nominated instrumental, “What Mama Said.” The track’s ferocious beginning is as hard-driving as I’ve ever heard him, making it immediately apparent that he hadn’t lost his penchant for taking a walk on the wild side during his ten-year sabbatical. The song’s ascending wall of noise is very Sgt. Pepper-ish in an honorable sort of way but the highlight of the tune comes when Beck vamps insanely over locomotive drums. With “Psycho Sam” the hard-as-granite rock mentality continues but with a more cohesive melody line to focus on. He throws in an intriguing bridge containing a slight Indian vibe but so much for mellowing with age, folks. Jeff attacks this song ruthlessly with his razor-sharp axe and shreds it to kindling right before your very ears. A live cut, “Brush With The Blues,” follows and it provides a much-needed respite from the onslaught of his fury. The tune’s title is correct in that it has a bluesy aura yet it’s far from being chained to the traditional and often tired 12-bar variety. To the delight of the crowd, Beck fills holes imaginatively and listening to him perform is one “How’d he do that?” moment after another. A bold undercarriage sticks “Blast from the East” right in your face and the odd time signature the players kick around readily distinguishes it from what’s occurred previously. Let’s just say that Jeff blazes through this number like a raging river of fire and nothing is left unscathed.

“Space For the Papa” opens with a spacey, cosmic introduction that sets the table for some tasty, deep-fried funk. The tune reveals itself to be an empty white canvas for Beck to throw buckets of bright neon guitar riffs upon, creating a fine piece of modernistic aural art. The gifted Tony Hymas wrote the next song, “Angel (Footsteps),” wherein a light, inoffensive hip-hop rhythm lays down a soft foundation to support this ethereal number so that Jeff gets to show off his genius for manipulating the upper registers of his instrument. Tony’s dense layers of keyboards produce a glowing backdrop for him that’s warm and highly hypnotic. On “THX 138” a busy but invigorating pulse dominates the proceedings. Beck’s guitar-generated howls and screams bring to mind some kind of mad scientist’s mechanical pterodactyl gone haywire, terrorizing a once-sleepy hillside village without mercy. The interesting 7/8 beat pattern that propels “Hip-Notica” promises great things and the energetic song doesn’t disappoint. The Hammond B3 (or its artificial equivalent. I can’t tell anymore.) organ sound gives it a sultry air and kudos to Jeff for admirably restraining himself from injecting too much riffing into the tune’s cool aura. A heavy rock stomp drenches “Even Odds” with a menacing varnish but the arrangement also takes you off into some adventurous detours that keep it from turning into a predictable dirge. Beck’s delicate treatment of a traditional folk song, “Declan,” follows and it’s a treat. A dreamy mist drapes the beautiful melody with an appropriate Irish personality that benefits from spirit-lifting pipes and Jeff’s fuzzy sustain comes off not unlike the emotional voice of a violin. The album’s finale is “Another Place,” and it’s all Beck. His short but breathtaking performance can soothe the worst of savage beasts and one is struck by his unyielding command of the instrument he’s mastered as completely as anyone ever has.

While this disc’s frequent use of electronic drums kept it from attaining masterpiece status I still heartily endorse it as a must-have but I’m not finished just yet. Realizing I get perilously close to gushing in the following statement, I’ll venture on without regard to or fear of the reader’s potential disdain: Jeff Beck is an icon of my generation that has risen above definition. He’s a virtuoso that can shred with the best of ‘em but he’s not just a shredder. He’s a technician of the highest caliber but he’s much more than just a scale-running automaton. If anything he’s a risk-taking, no-holds-barred, courageous explorer of uncharted fusion territory who simultaneously possesses the passionate heart of a seasoned Delta bluesman that guides his soul. I daresay that we’re all in the presence of one of the most influential guitarists that ever strolled upon terra firma and those of you who have yet to check out his amazing body of work (least of all this excellent record) are really missing out. “Who Else!” indeed.

Chicapah After Jeff Beck figuratively sharted in his Levis (and on many of his adoring fans) in 1985 by releasing his dubious, demeaning “Flash” album he wisely went on a much-needed hiatus from his career to reassess and, presumably, to do some laundry. One need only to notice the decade we’re dealing with and it becomes obvious that no artist in that murky era was immune from being infected by the dreaded MTV virus, even a revered guitar deity like Jeff Beck. Therefore, we should all grant him a lot of slack for, like so many of his esteemed colleagues, succumbing to its siren-like allure and for trying to appear trendy and “hip” to a generation of musical nomads. Retreating to his 70-acre estate outside London for four years evidently did the boy a world of good for he eventually re-hooked up with keyboard wiz Tony Hymas and enlisted the services of American-born drum wunderkind Terry Bozzio to create some fresh sounds as the 80s mercifully came to a close. “Guitar Shop” was the result and the intriguing cover art said volumes. Jeff had put his amazing talent up on the racks for an overhaul and some crucial maintenance in order to get his impressive vehicle back to where it alternately purred like a kitten and roared like a lion. It worked.

Yet the foul taste left in my mouth from the sell-out that was “Flash” lingered and, mostly out of spite, I avoided this record for a very, very long time. It wasn’t until these last few years (mainly through television exposures) that I finally realized that Beck is not only just as good as ever but continuing to get better with age. I’ve started to go back and listen to what he’s been doing for the last two decades and have come to the conclusion that I was foolishly hurting no one but myself by boycotting Jeff. He got over “Flash” and moved on. I didn’t. And that was to my detriment. “Guitar Shop” is a very good album and more consistent than the three studio LPs that followed his 1975 masterpiece, “Blow by Blow.” Whether I acknowledged it or not as the 90s began, Beck was back, armed to the teeth, accompanied by two seasoned mercenaries and he wasn’t taking any prisoners.

I’ve been an admirer of Terry Bozzio since his days as part of one of my guilty pleasures, the quirky band Missing Persons, and so I knew that his contributions would be sizeable. The record’s namesake cut opens the album with Terry demanding your undivided attention via punchy, ringing drums as Jeff prods and teases as only he can with wild axe noises as Bozzio verbally injects reams of slick salesman-worthy “industry jargon” heard frequently in the retail guitar biz. There’s no discernable melody but that’s okay, they opt to take you on a driving, raucous carnival ride through a scintillating maze of sounds. A heavy rock riff sets the tone for “Savoy,” a funky locomotive of a tune wherein Beck shows he hasn’t lost his infatuation with the effects that were constantly being introduced during the 80s ad nauseum. While these gadgets often detracted from his prowess on “Wired” and, to a lesser extent, on “There and Back,” here he demonstrates a modicum of restraint in his employment of them without sacrificing any of the energy they can generate. Tony’s “Behind the Veil” is next and Terry’s strong but subtle reggae beat propels this song provocatively. Jeff draws upon his knack for melodic runs and Hymas’ synthesizers provide a stability and depth of field that corrals and tempers the volatility of his two cohorts.

Bozzio lays down a menacing, heavy blues beat for “Big Block,” a hard-hitting track that takes the listener through some intriguing twists and turns. Beck is simply amazing as he tosses in one maniacal lick after another. This is one hot tune. In an abrupt display of contrast, however, they then produce the serene “Where Were You.” Jeff performs its haunting, gorgeous melody in front of Tony’s dense soundscape, creating a dreamy aura. Beck’s masterful ability to manipulate guitar harmonics is damn near supernatural and never as much as on this beautiful number. It’s heavenly. The hypnotic spell the trio weaves is suddenly broken, however, by the following cut, “Stand On It.” Here their Led Zep-ish approach to authentic Brontosaurus rock gets me right where I live and Bozzio pounds it out with proper Bonzo-styled zeal. The song’s progressive, upwardly mobile structure is highly satisfying and Jeff’s slide guitar solo is suitably demonic.

For “A Day in the House” Terry once again mans the mike to recite a bossy, authoritarian soliloquy that gives this song a giddy, eclectic spin. Hymas’ keyboards are bright and dazzling, offering a point of reference to counterbalance Beck’s entertaining shenanigans. The track’s multi-layered construction is imaginative and colorful. They then shift 180 degrees for “Two Rivers.” Tony erects another lush and glorious backdrop that drenches this tune in a romantic shower of radiant starlight. Jeff’s guitar is ever so expressive and penetrating yet he never lets himself get mushy or condescending as to detract from the emotional impact of the central melody. The band closes with “Sling Shot,” a startling wakeup call that rudely rouses you from the reverie induced by the previous track. They hone a sharp edge on this one and it races like a formula one car on a straightaway. There’s nary a dull moment to be found as all three participants get a chance to get their ya-yas out. Fasten your seat belts, kids, and don’t go sticking your head out the window.

You may, with ample reason, label me crazy as a loon but I find that many of the songs on “Guitar Shop” remind me of Weather Report in that they have unpredictable arrangements and no discernable allegiance to tradition. It may be that Beck, during his self-imposed vacation, rediscovered his inner rebel and cast off any misplaced inclinations toward trying to appeal to the video-addicted public, allowing his muse to guide him back to what he does best – letting his guitar do all the talking. I wish I’d not acted like a sulking cuckold and ignored this album when it came out in October of ’89. I only deprived myself of enjoying one of my all-time favorite guitar slingers’ best offerings for 20+ years. You live, you learn, as Alanis sang.

Slartibartfast Holy crap, there's a new Jeff Beck live DVD out there!.

...I thought as I saw this at the record store. This is why it's important to keep those local independent brick and mortar record stores open: you'll never know what you'll find browsing.

As near as I've been able to find out, Jeff Beck (THE Beck, not that other guy) hadn't been touring in a long time, but rather was sticking to special performances. To make up for it, sort of, he did a week's worth of shows at London's Ronnie Scott's Jazz Club in late November 2007. I've never been there, but it looks a little large as some jazz clubs go but still reasonably intimate. I'm pretty sure you don't need binoculars to observe any performances there.

Jeff has assembled an interesting set of musicians, the oldest being Jeff himself (b. 1944), Vinnie Colaiuta (1956) on drums, Jason Rebello (1969) on keys, and Tal Wilkenfeld (1986) on bass. Vinnie I know best from association with Zappa, Jason's new to me but I found out has worked with Sting, Tal (new to the music scene) hails from Australia and judging from her performance she is someone to really keep your eye on. Guests appearances by Joss Stone, Imogen Heap, and Eric Clapton, heyyy.

The set list, not really the proper term as it must have been culled from all the shows, is an impressive collection of material spanning Jeff's career so far. Original stuff includes Beck's Bolero {is this not actually a cover?}, Led Boots, Scatterbrain, Angel, Blast From The East, Rollin' And Tumblin'. Also some nice covers thrown in for good measure including Eternity's Breath!, Cause We've Ended As Lovers {never really seemed like a cover to me}, People Get Ready, A Day In The Life, You Need Love). You also get some interviews as bonus material and the DVD booklet is a nice read. 21 tracks altogether, mixed in Dolby 5.1 and DTS surround sounds with a 16:9 video format, I might add.

Wish I was there but this is the next best thing. It's one hell of a way to experience one hell of a guitarist. It's a live assortment, but due the quality and quantity I am rounding this one up.