In more than one interview prior to his abrupt passing in January of 2023, the late great Jeff Beck rued the lack of original material generated by his first post-Yardbirds band – The Jeff Beck Group. And with over a half-century hindsight now available, the second album by that ensemble, Beck-Ola (released June 1969), proves his point with great clarity: as alternately fiery and delicate is the musicianship and singing, it’s devoted to a paucity of the foursome’s own compositions in addition to not just one, but two(!) covers of numbers made famous by Elvis Presley.
Reissued with bonus tracks aplenty in October 2006 on Legacy Recordings (after expansion via the EMI label in Great Britain), that package contains more than a little enlightening conversation. El Becko addresses the unit’s shortfalls with equal parts acceptance and regret, his retrospect pinpointing that two members of the unit, Ron Wood and Rod Stewart, became a prolific creative team during the latter’s own early solo projects.
That corollary development left all the more confounding the creative stasis on behalf of the admittedly impetuous guitar hero. Still, even in the midst of that foundational drawback, Jeff Beck still chose to eschew the cock rock caricaturing of Jimmy Page, who formed Led Zeppelin from the remains of The Yardbirds after Beck’s departure (and who was only mildly castigated by Jeff himself for the resemblance between the LZ debut album and Beck’s genuine groundbreaker Truth).
Notwithstanding the material at hand, the tempestuous force of the Jeff Beck Group’s collective personality comes through with titanic force on Beck-Ola. The quartet plays with great abandon by nature, but that’s hardly a surprise given the approach of their leader: the comical fills Beck inserts surrounding Stewart’s caterwaul on “Ain’t Superstitious,” for instance, depict a group not about to take itself too seriously.
Unfortunately, that attitude, as the leader himself admitted, was part of the problem keeping the quartet together. Interpersonal friction, as well as the aforementioned paucity of self-composed songs, are ongoing themes of this second group effort (with Tony Newman in place of Micky Waller as drummer throughout). To wit, the two covers of ‘The King’s’ are fun on their own terms but add little substance to the proceedings.
That’s not to say, however, that either take undermines the cacophony proceeding from Beck’s love/hate relationship with his instrument. “All Shook Up” sounds tailor-made for its scythe-sharp riff, but horns might have usefully decorated it for authenticity’s sake and, along with the hell-bent propulsion behind “Jailhouse Rock,” given the album some of the polish it lacks.
In that regard, Mickie Most’s production assistance doesn’t appear to have included such objective, astute guidance, at least not in any technical terms. One of just a few such collaborations, Wood, Beck, and Stewart’s “Spanish Boots” more vividly suggests a band lacking not only the ideas but also the discipline needed to bring them to fruition.
Peter Mew’s digital mastering on the expanded reissue offers stereo separation that is propitiously most noticeable on pianist Nicky Hopkins’ “Girl From Mill Valley.” The otherwise treacly tune, dominated by its author’s inimitably elegant piano runs, is neatly circumscribed by long, arching lines from Beck, the likes of which also reappear on the Beck-Ola album closer.
“Rice Pudding” progresses from a piledriving opening riff through which the band moves into more spacious realms; extended for a greater duration–if for no other reason than to add to the record’s running time of just 30:29–their collective motion comes to an abrupt halt. It’s as if the studio machinery itself stopped, but it’s nonetheless a fitting close to the album, mirroring the flameout of the group.
Conversing with British journalist Charles Shaar-Murray for the re-releases, Beck is surprisingly sanguine about his dissolution of the group just prior to their scheduled slot at Woodstock in 1969. Still, it’s one of the more fascinating ‘What if?…’ scenarios to ponder in contemplating what the widespread impact of the Jeff Beck Group might have been–not to mention how it might have altered their internal dynamics–had it gone ahead with that single appearance.
By including key cuts from both Truth and Beck-Ola in his latter-day live appearances, Jeff Beck gave further credence to their seminal influence not just on his own musical evolution but contemporary hard rock in general. Thus reaffirming his vision (and position) as guitar hero nonpareil, the now-deceased iconoclast cast his subsequent work, such as the jazz-rock fusion of “Blow By Blow,” in a newly favorable light, especially for those not familiar with the arc of his career.
The passage of time since the man’s death in early 2023 will hopefully enable even more of the mainstream audience to appreciate the early but no less idiosyncratic art of this magnificent musical maverick.
