Whenever I listen to Beck – which is rare, I confess – I find myself thinking that I ought to listen to more of his music. Or that it just doesn’t move me. This album is certainly one of his best. Beautifully sad, a love child of the Velvet Underground’s debut and early Radiohead, slightly drunk, introvert and definitely depressive. And yes, I understand why he was (or is?) such an important figure during the decline of rock music, and I do like what I hear. But even this album doesn’t quite resonate with me. Maybe I'm getting too old for this kind of music. Or I just have enough of this music in my collection. Still, I’ll put it on my to-listen-again list.