Guerolito

What’s the deal with all these “remix albums” today? When I was a lad, the only artists who released discs with remixes of entire albums were…Linkin Park?

But now, it’s the “indie” thing to do! Earlier this year, Bloc Party put out a sliced-and-diced “Silent Alarm,” Death From Above 1979 gave the thumbs-up to a supefluous retooling of their last jaunt, and now, everyone’s favorite genius-posing-as-a-poseur, Beck, has jumped on the remixwagon. The results are tepid, at best.

“Guero” was unjustly derided. It was a grower. It had to be seen in all its aspects before it could be properly understood, and was shot down by the critical establishment (the ever-prescient Crimson excepted) before critics could let its time-bombs go off inside their brains.

It was basically a great remix album already; Beck and the Dust Brothers took all the scattered bits of his past, added new verses, and amped up the hooks to eleven.

Maybe that’s why virtually none of the wizards given the task of remixing “Guero” into “Guerolito” have anything new to say in their final products. After all, what’s the point in remixing a remix?

The disappointment is astonishing, given that most of the technicians at the mixing boards are currently at the top of their game: Philly dumpster-diving prodigy Diplo, sexy French electroboys Air, and not one, but two splinter-groups from one-album wonders the Unicorns, to name a few.

Two more poppy Frenchmen, Octet, steal the show by recasting bubblegum gem “Girl” as a melodramatic aria, sung at the climax of a new-age murder opera.

They cut out all the lead vocals of the chorus, thus negating the longstanding debate over whether our hero is saying “sun-eyed” or “cyanide.” This leaves only the eerily manufactured choir of “aah-aah-aahs.” Then the whole thing descends into breakcore entropy while the lady gets slaughtered.

Underground robot heroes 8-Bit take “Hell Yes” to its logical conclusion, replacing the idiotic old-school backing track of the original with a huge, pixilated synth attack. They even give Christina Ricci’s ridiculous sushi waitress voice-samples a counterpart robo-voice companion.

Electronic highlanders Boards of Canada make “Broken Drum” genuinely wistful and anguished, if a bit too long and slow. Anticon post-hoppers Subtle take the blues-horror of “Farewell Ride” into the urban jungle, and are smart enough to add some new vocals, in the most drastic remix strategy on the album. Homelife gets an honorable mention for having the balls to turn the guitar-crunch of “E-Pro” into a new-wave hoedown, which is fun, if not terribly moving.

Besides these peaks, the remixes are pretty much watered-down rehashes of the originals. The difference between Beck’s “Earthquake Weather” and remix legend Mario C’s annoyingly minimalist take on it borders on nonexistence. Diplo’s “Go It Alone” starts out promisingly, with subterranean thumps straight outta the Caribbean and dubplate guitars that jangle in from another century. But then the track stays in a holding pattern for the rest of its runtime. No changes, nothing.

Beastie Boy Ad-Rock simply proves his overwhelming irrelevance by adding a piercing synth sample and eye-rolling “UNH!” and “WHAT!” shout-outs to the subtle krauted-out brilliance that was “Black Tambourine.”

The weirdest part is that Beck had no dearth of remixes sitting around—he’s already put out three remix EPs from “Guero,” and special-edition versions of the album had a handful of retooled tracks. Most of the best tracks on this album (Octet, Boards of Canada, and 8-Bit) have already been released here, and some better “Guero” remixes didn’t make the cut.

It’s baffling why Beck chose to let Air put out the quasi-interesting “Heaven Hammer” remix of “Missing” instead of Röyksopp’s epic ass-grinder from the special edition. Even the hotly-anticipated new mixes from ex-Unicorns groups Islands and Th’Corn Gangg do little but make Beck’s source material sound sped-up, slowed-down, and silly.

The only Beck original is the final cut, “Clap Hands” (unfortunately unrelated to the Tom Waits classic of the same name), previously available on the “Guero” special edition. The song’s muted jump-beats, driving cowbell, and whispered call-outs earn it a page in the canon of great Beck B-sides.

Oddly enough, “Clap Hands” fits perfectly with the flow of the album: it sounds like a remix. It’s a remix of all of Beck’s “Midnite Vultures”-era whisper-funk.

“Guerolito” isn’t a bad listen, per se. Most of the vocal tracks remain untouched, the downbeat songs are still downbeat, and the upbeat songs are still upbeat.

If you want to have some weird fever-dream version of “Guero” to listen to, put the disc on. Otherwise, let’s leave the cut-and-paste reinvention to its mainstream master, Beck Hansen.

—Staff writer Abe J. Riesman can be reached at riesman@fas.harvard.edu.