Beck Hansen didn't mean to be a fashion god; it just happened
that way. He's the antithesis of anti-fashion. Kinda like
the kid in the nosebleed section who looks like he should
be in the front row. That kid's not trying to sneak down
there, but eventually gentle hands will carry him forward.
Beck sets trends by bucking them more than anyone since
Elvis. I scurried out to his Rose Garden show on Sunday
in hopes of getting a sneak peek at the fashion of tomorrow.
Beck started off more folky than funky, sporting a '70s,
faded denim jacket, jeans and an unspectacular polka dotted
tee. This might have been his attempt to start small and
end big, letting the songs speak for themselves and defying
those who call his latest record Midnight Vultures
shallow and superficial. Not that the casual look hindered
his stellar performance--even when he leapt onto a satin-sheeted
bed lowered from the ceiling during "Debra." His Liberace
moment came when he did a costume change and donned a fuchsia
suit with elaborate silver beading. This is his Midnight
Vultures look, and it fit the Lite-Brite stage scene
and party vibe to a T. (Although it looked like something
by legendary country-western designer Nudie Cohn, whose
creations Beck is known to wear, this one was more well-tailored
lounge lizard than western-wear.)
After an amazing acoustic interlude, the adored one worked
the wide stage in a sleeveless, wide-striped gray tee and
dark pants that looked like something out of a casting call
for the film Breakin'. The rest of the band--including
horn players, backup babes, the DJ and others--stuck to
the jeans and tees M.O., with a couple of exceptions. Savvy
keyboardist Roger Manning wore a cape, perhaps sparking
a superhero fashion craze, and the always dynamic and hilarious
bass player Justin Meldal-Johnsen looked like Hyde from
That '70s Show with his whiteboy Afro, shades and
faded Ozzy tee.
With the encore came a subterranean environment, something
like Mad Max meets the Construction Dome. The boys in the
band strapped on hockey leg guards and shoulder pads and
dragged IV racks around the stage. Beck donned an orange
reflective vest and directed invisible air traffic with
flashers, which he stuffed down his pants when all hell
broke loose. Airport and hospital chic, together at last?
Don't be surprised to see the hipsterati donning construction
hats and reflective safety gear in homage to his Beckness.
The end came crashing down when the shaggy-haired darling
wrapped up the show--literally--with a line of yellow barricade
tape across the front of the stage. Sigh. If only all Sunday
nights in Portland could be like this.
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Willamette Week | originally
published April 26,
2000
|
