Beck doing libido is funny, so much so that, apparently, a lot of people have often thought of Midnite Vultures as a complete spoof record. On some level, as much as Beck was always playing with genres and reclaiming strange styles, Midnite Vultures was probably an instance where he was a bit ahead of his time — dance music of any type, especially sleazy disco and funk, was pretty foreign to the indie scene in the late ’90s, before that whole dancepunk business in the early ’00s and the general “anything goes” attitude of the latter ’00s and ’10s. Not thatMidnite Vultures was a disastrous release, by any means. It didn’t reach quite the level of Odelay’s success, but it was still very well-reviewed and earned a Grammy nomination for Album Of The Year. Collectively, all this filtered into Midnite Vultures becoming something of a dark horse candidate when it came to arguments about which album is Beck’s absolute masterpiece. After a time, though, that dark horse argument became so commonplace that these days, I’d argue, we might overestimate Midnite Vultures’ standing in comparison to Beck’s other work. (This could very well be influenced by the particular critics I pay attention to on Twitter, but at any rate.)

The issues with Midnite Vultures is that some of the songs are just sort of grating, and those songs (I’m thinking about “Mixed Bizness,” “Get Real Paid,” and “Hollywood Freaks”) do sort of come off as jokes at the expense of legitimate genres. A previous working title for the album, after all, was I Can Smell The V.D. In The Club Tonight. (On second thought, I kinda wish the album had been called that.) As a result, this is one of the few Beck albums where I actually prefer the latter half to the first half. After starting strong with “Sexx Laws” and “Nicotine & Gravy,” “Peaches & Cream” is where I get back on board for real with Midnite Vultures. Admittedly, that’s the part of the album where slightly more traditional Beck songs (“Broken Train,” “Beautiful Way”) sit comfortably alongside undeniable stuff like “Milk & Honey.” Or maybe that’s where you get to the point where you just know “Debra” is on its way. Despite “Debra” reportedly being inspired by Prince and Young Americans-era Bowie, it’s always reminded me of one of those falsetto-driven funk and/or disco Rolling Stones songs (as in “Miss You” or “Emotional Rescue”), and the genre of bands doing their one “falsetto Stones song” is a personal favorite of mine. (See also: Spoon’s “I Turn My Camera On.”) “Debra” is one of the all-time great Beck songs. I’m still not sold on the idea that Midnite Vultures is the all-time great Beck album, but I think it’s fair enough to say it belongs in the conversation. There’s a gonzo achievement to the record, which stands out perhaps the most in a catalog where, to some extent, every record stands out.