Moments before a figure emerges from a thick fog, the cloud-wall moves, jerked in currents and streams by the sudden approach of something travelling at a great speed. Something massive. Something danceable, intangible!

(It’s going to be the best album ever…I can’t wait.)

The figure, the awoken (or sleepless) beast that is the new Beck album, has not only begun to stir, but is barreling forward at a breakneck pace. I had the intense pleasure of pre-viewing his new tracks over the weekend (you can too, if you foolishly don’t want to download it yet – beck.com), and if I hadn’t already pre-ordered this album, I would get it right now. As in, F you, I can’t wait for this album.

Driving, 60’s teeny-pop drumlines electrified by Danger Mouse (Yeah, that guy from Gnarls Barkley and Gorillaz) provides buoyancy for layers of bouncy, heavy keys and unfiltered, unabashed guitar licks. Where Danger Mouse ends and Beck begins is hard to say, and their natural fusion is apparent on this effort.

OMG! I can’t waaaaiiit.

Seriously let’s get so serious for a moment. Seriously. Metaphors aside, Beck has a stethoscope that hear music’s sublime beating heart and breathing lungs. I’ve seen it.

Let’s abstain from using words like “re-invent” and “experimental” from describing every new Beck album. He moves more subtly through the shifting tides of music’s capabilities, creating his only consistency through his continuing, adaptive ability to find synthesis in all things that are beautiful (something that Lao Tzu could only call succeeding).