Michigan Ain't Where I Get My Kicks

A dozen of my favorite tracks by (or with) the late, great Jeff Beck

The iconic guitarist Jeff Beck has unexpectedly left us at the age of 78. He had quite a good run, really, and — even with all the time that he took off over the years to work on his beloved vintage cars — he certainly packed a ridiculous amount of incredible music into his time on this planet. But it still doesn’t seem real, or right, that the Temple of Guitar has lost one of its leading celebrants and most towering pillars. May he rest in peace…

Beck was a brilliant enigma, one whose talents and temperament refused to ever let him walk a straight musical line or trod a predictable artistic path. While fellow ‘60s guitar heroes like Jimi Hendrix, Jimmy Page and Eric Clapton had all become household names by the time the ‘70s lurched into view, Beck was happier existing in the rarified realm of the “guitarist’s guitarist”. His biggest-selling albums, 1975’s Blow by Blow and 1976’s Wired, were all-instrumental affairs that leaned hard into jazz fusion territory and well away from AM radio, which is probably why I didn’t become aware of him until well after I was already familiar with the music of his former cohorts.

While much of Beck’s recorded output has long resided in the “not really my thing” file, I was always impressed by his fluid dexterity, his wildly melodic flair, and his uncanny ability to suddenly change stylistic lanes — whether in the midst of a song or at various stages in his career. (If you’re new to Beck’s music, I highly recommend the Beckology box set as a “tasting platter” from his first 25 years or so of recording.) But it’s his ‘60s stuff, both as a member of The Yardbirds and as leader of The Jeff Beck Group, that is the absolute business to my ears; it was absolutely revelatory to me when I finally discovered (or at least really began listening closely to) it in the mid-’80s, and it’s been a well that I’ve repeatedly returned to ever since. Those Yardbirds recordings are the reason I own a Fender Telecaster, and they inspire me to try and cop his licks and tones to this day.

In the wake of his unfortunate passing, I initially thought that rounding up a dozen of my favorite Beck-related ‘60s tracks would be a nice way to salute him here. But as I thought some more about it, I remembered that there were a few tracks of his from subsequent decades that have, for one reason or another, also meant a lot to me. So let’s just take ‘em in the order that I first heard ‘em…

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El Becko (1980)

There and Back came out in the summer of 1980, over four years after the release of Wired, his previous studio album. As I hadn’t started tuning in to the FM dial until late ‘78, this track from his long-awaited return (which got a fair amount of airplay on album-rock stations like WLUP and WNEW) was what alerted me to Jeff Beck’s existence. Though I didn’t know quite what to make of “El Becko”’s dramatic opening, I liked the instro’s hard-chugging groove and Beck’s whining, gliding guitar leads, both of which reminded me at the time of a much more out-there ZZ Top. (Of course, Beck was a huge influence on Billy Gibbons, though I wouldn’t learn this until much later.)

Shapes of Things (1966)

I heard this song on oldies stations for years without really understanding just how radical it was for its time, with its anti-war/pro-environment message and otherworldly, feedback-drenched guitar solo. I’m not sure when the penny finally dropped for me about Beck’s brilliant use of fuzz and feedback here, but I’m guessing it would have been around the summer of ‘84, when I first got serious about playing the guitar and started paying closer attention to stuff like this.

Over Under Sideways Down (1966)

Another oldies radio favorite that snuck up on me, this one really clicked once my pal Jason explained to me how unusual (and how cool) it was for Beck to throw a wailing raga lick over the top of a thumping boogie-woogie bass line — and somehow score a pop hit in the process. And then there’s that up-the-neck, speaker-shredding shit he does at the end…

Infatuation (1984)

Jason and I were also pretty into this Rod Stewart video, which got a ton of play on Chicago area’s Channel 66 video station in the summer of ‘84. The semi-clothed presence of Kay Lenz was a definite plus, of course, but the appearance of Jeff Beck in full-on Nigel Tufnel mode during the solo break never failed to send us into complete hysterics.

Happenings Ten Years Time Ago (1966)

Back in those pre-Internet days, I would often read about a song or album that sounded like something I needed to hear, and then spend months or even years trying to actually hear it. I first read about this non-LP single in Nicholas Schaffner’s The British Invasion — one of the most important books of my early musical education — and I can’t remember when or where I finally tracked it down; but if I had to pick only one Yardbirds song to hear for the rest of my life, “Happenings” would be it. Mystical, mysterious, heavy and noisy as hell, with dueling atomic guitar blasts from Beck and Jimmy Page and some warped hilarity provided by Beck’s imitation of a disapproving health clinician (“Pop group, are ya?”), it never fails to get my blood pumping and mind racing.

Psycho Daisies (1966)

The Beck-sung B-side of “Happenings”(at least in the UK), this may not be the cleverest song in the Yardbirds catalogue — it’s basically just an impressionistic and not-always-fond journal of the band’s 1966 US tour (“Michigan ain’t where I get my kicks,” etc.) — but there’s no arguing with the blistering energy that the band brings to it, nor with Beck’s beautifully piercing lead tones.

Morning Dew (1968)

There are many, many versions of Bonnie Dobson’s anti-war standard out there, but for me none surpass the one The Jeff Beck Group cut for their debut album. I mean, the whole record is absolutely essential in a “pre-Zeppelin Zeppelin” kinda bag, but the way Beck’s ominous wah-wah bursts punctuate Rod Stewart’s deeply soulful vocal performance chokes me up every time… and especially so after the news of his death. No more morning dew, no more Jeff Beck.

Beck’s Bolero (1967)

Speaking of Zep, the b-side to Beck’s 1967 solo single “Hi Ho Silver Lining” features two future members of that band (Jimmy Page and John Paul Jones) as well as ace session piano man Nick Hopkins and The Who’s Keith Moon on drums. Majestic, trippy and explosive, “Beck’s Bolero” was so far ahead of its time that it slotted in perfectly on Truth, even though the track was recorded a full two years before most of the material on that LP.

Barabajagal (1969)

Even as a diehard Donovan fan, I have to admit that “thy humble minstrel” had to call in some outside help whenever he wanted to get funky — and Donovan tracks don’t come much funkier than the sublime groover he recorded with The Jeff Beck Group. Back in my old band Lava Sutra’s relatively short-lived three-guitar incarnation (circa 1992-93), this was a favorite number for us to jam on.

Great Shakes radio spot (1966)

In the early ‘90s, I became obsessed with tracking down vintage ‘60s and ‘70s radio spots recorded by artists favorite and otherwise; not only were they fascinating and fun slices of history, but they were also a great way to fill a mixtape if you had a minute or two of blank space left on the cassette. The Yardbirds’ spot for Great Shakes remains one of my favorites, both because it’s a hilariously bald-faced retread of the aforementioned “Over Under Sideways Down,” and because Beck absolutely burns throughout the whole thing.

B-I-Bickey-Bi-Bo-Bo-Go (1993)

Back in my early-’90s tenure as a record store clerk, I worked at stores where it was strongly suggested that we play new releases, rather than whatever old favorites we might bring in from home. Beck’s Crazy Legs CD came out in June 1993, just a couple of months before I quit Chicago’s See Hear and moved to L.A., but it was an absolute godsend during that period. A loving tribute to Gene Vincent and His Blue Caps — but especially to the Blue Caps’ brilliant guitarist Cliff Gallup — Crazy Legs gave me a way to play rockabilly at work without getting yelled at by my boss. Plus, even if the album didn’t exactly beat Sweet Gene at his own game, there was something both endearing and pretty inspiring about Beck’s unexpected 1950s detour; here was a guy who could do or play anything he wanted to, and (for the moment at least) what he wanted to do was play Cliff Gallup licks.

Lookin’ For Another Pure Love (1972)

I knew that Beck and Stevie Wonder had some shared history involving “Superstition,” but it wasn’t until the mid-’90s that I realized Beck had also played on this lovely deep cut from Talking Book. “Do it, Jeff,” encourages Stevie, and Beck responds with a solo that’s both achingly lyrical and playfully goofy — qualities that emerged time and time again in his music. We were truly lucky to have him…

What are some of your favorite Beck moments? Feel free to leave ‘em in the comments section below.

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