Beck’s latest release, Guero, is more stable and unified in comparison to the drastically differing ideas in his previous albums. All twenty tracks of Guero share his past albums’ upbeat feel but demonstrate slightly more musical cohesion. By the third song, “Girl,” the listener can tell that Beck has finally settled down into a less risky and extreme style.

There is a Latinized tinge throughout the CD, mostly evident in “Que Onda Guero,” which translates to “Where you going, white boy?” A laid-back dance groove accompanies Beck as he raps his way through a Latino street scene.

In contrast, Beck croons in other tracks which combine unusually complementary elements. “Girl” harkens to the Beach Boys through its bluesy feel, while “Black Tambourine” is a true Asian fusion with influence from Japanese-style drummers and Bo Diddley, and “Emergency Exit” is an eclectic mix paying its respects to folk and disco.

All these share a disc with “Missing,” which is quite mellow with creative percussive riffs in the background. This song is inspired by the depressed mopings of a middle-aged man.

The album ultimately employs a thick texture and may be overwhelming at times; Beck is attempting to do a lot while maintaining a simple, constant cover, rather than take a fanatical, specific stand as he did on previous albums. Although Beck has leaped from one extreme to the next as an artist, Guero is a happy fusion of the multitude of personalities that he has portrayed in the past.

It is, of course, impossible to say that his previous songs did not influence the tracks on Guero. Those who worshipped Beck in his folk-inspired works will find the opener, “E-Pro,” reminiscent of “Devil’s Haircut.”

While showing a clear progression from earlier discs, Guero is a definite far cry from Odelay, famous for its energetic, anything-goes attitude. Popularity in that release came from the fact that there was something for everyone. Beck has gone from a folksy style to a crunk-inspired phase, to a space cowboy persona, to a gung-ho sex-lover, to the muted thoughts of a mopey thirty-something.

-- Sophia Yan