- If you look closely, you can see Beck being cool.
From its onset in the early 90s, Beck's commerical success was considered "unlikely."
In hindsight this seems like an understatement. I wonder if when he was 17, homeless and playing open-mic nights in East Village clubs, he had any idea he'd be back in the city 20-some years later performing to a sold-out crowd of 7,000 devotees. Or if he knew he'd still be singing the line, "My time is a piece of wax falling on a termite" in 2013. Or when he played cramped behind an amp, dodging mud flung from a crowd seemingly displeased with having to endure a set by a mislabeled one-hit wonder at Lollapalooza in 1995, if he thought it'd get better? Or how about when this happened...
Did he really think—did any of us really think—he'd be the one to enjoy a shape-shifting career unmatched by any of his alt-rock nation contemporaries? Last night at Prospect Park, he ran through the many stages of his catalog, straight-faced as ever. Let's take look, shall we?