Beck

Given his straight-out-of-the-gate reputation as America's Favorite Slacker, Beck sure hasn't slept much over the past decade. While "Loser" funneled chunky breakbeats, wobbly sitar lines, and incredibly bizarre rhymes into an anthem we can all agree upon, every album since has skipped over and across genre lines, from the trash-compacted samples of Odelay — as produced by the Dust Brothers, the dynamic duo best known for the Beastie Boys' equally adored Paul's Boutique — to the psych-steeped paranoia of Modern Guilt, a postmodern psych-pop album that just so happens to have Danger Mouse — the beat-chopping half of Gnarls Barkley — behind the boards. And then there are the really random detours that have dotted Beck's entire career, as heard throughout our Next Steps.

Sea Change, Beck's gloomy but gorgeous breakup record, shouldn't have come as such a head-turning surprise. After all, the queasy soundscapes and bloodletting lyrics of "Nobody's Fault But My Own" suggested his dark side just four years earlier. The only problem is that we forgot about it the second Beck revealed Midnite Vultures, a falsetto-flexing journey into a world where neon signs point the way to Prince, ultra-modern funk, and robotic R&B. Taking such a deep-end dive would seem forced in the hands of most artists; in Beck's musical playground, however, Midnite Vultures is yet another mind-boggling sonic journey from alt-rock's reigning showman. Tying all these left turns together is our Deep Cuts, a collection of fan favorites that never cease to amaze.

Unlike the grunge and gangster rap icons who shared the spotlight on MTV and crossover radio stations in the mid-'90s, Beck didn't have a clear direction when he dropped Mellow Gold. A stunning example of timeless, boundary-less music, it features everything from trance-inducing drone tones ("Blackhole") to freewheeling folk ("Nitemare Hippy Girl") to harmonica-honking slacker rock ("F****n With My Head"). Not to be outdone in the "what's going on here?" department are any of Beck's other tracks, including the saloon-channeling country of "Canceled Check," the electro-shocked soul of "Peaches & Cream," and the dizzying loops of "Hotwax."

Considering his grandfather's work with Yoko Ono and John Cage, his father's reputation as a cutting-edge strings arranger, and his mother's years spent hanging out at Andy Warhol's Factory, Beck was destined to be cooler than all of us put together. Not only that — he was born to perform music that challenges us as much as himself. Simply put, you never know what you're going to get with a Beck record; one minute he's happier than a clown who's just been doused in laughing gas — the fearless, genre-mashing brilliance of Odelay, the prankster pop of Midnite Vultures, and the full-circle connect-the-dots cuts of Guero and The Information — and the next he's clawing his way out of a hole caused by misunderstandings and missed opportunities — the widescreen love songs of Sea Change. Regardless, he's still Beck, and we wouldn't have it any other way.