Beck is old now.  Forty-three years is old in the music industry—especially in release years, which Beck has been around extensively, but more-so; presently.  His age in release years consists of genre-less ground and is as such difficult to track in terms of age.
Morning Phase is music from someone who is old by these criteria.  It’s a softcore release where Beck isn’t stepping forward—he’s standing still and watching the sky.  The music resonates from him in this state, and said as such, is quite beautiful.
Beck’s work is perceived in a way to avoid expectations if you’re a reasonable person.  Odelay is Odelay and it’s not anything else—this is the general theme of his career for the most part (though this ambient softcore has been touched before, see: Sea Change).
Morning Phase is so overwhelmingly ambient that if you nod out and scroll off into the other duties the life holds, you’re unlikely to be disturbed by some sort of alteration of sound.  Morning Phase isn’t a collection of songs with singles and fillers then. It is simply Morning Phase; its own entity devoid of major internal transition.  Aside from the archaic-Arcade-Fireaich mando-plucks from “Blue Moon,” or the final screeches of eccentricity closing “Waking Light,” you become lost in Beck’s stillness.
Beck has become a product of his time, not as much a product of Beck.  But is this what Beck is at this point then?  At any angle, you can’t call him wrong—just Beck. And Beck can do whatever he damn well Becks.


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