The Jeff Beck albums you should definitely own

Truth (EMI, 1968)

There’s no better way of launching your own career than by loudly eviscerating your past. Jeff Beck’s first solo album opens by grinding his Yardbirds hit Shapes Of Things into the dirt with a metallic stomp. Rod Stewart’s rasping vocals finish the job. 

Jeff ‘n’ Rod were never going to be the Glimmer Twins, but they make excellent sparring partners as they trample all over Morning Dew, I Ain’t Superstitious, Ol’ Man River (really) and You Shook Me, the Willie Dixon/JB Lenoir blues standard which Led Zeppelin also recorded for their debut album, released five months later. Beck’s Bolero is the icing on the cake. The perfect start to what would become a prestigious solo career.

Blow By Blow (Epic, 1975)

Beck’s pivotal fifth album – his first all-instrumental one – takes him towards the world of jazz and fusion, but it’s on his own terms as he picks the elements he wants to enhance his own style. He revels in the sense of adventure from the sleek opening You Know What I Mean where he abruptly veers away from a blues-based solo into a more imaginative flight of fancy. 

There’s plenty of tempestuous playing with his sharp, supportive band, particularly on Scatterbrain, plus a sublime version of Stevie Wonder’s Cause We’ve Ended As Lovers where he draws emotive sighs and moans out of his guitar. And producer George Martin excels himself.

Wired (Epic, 1976)

A year after Blow By Blow, Beck was back, enthused by the new possibilities and bringing in former Mahavishnu Orchestra members Jan Hammer and Narada Michael Walden who offer a more potent challenge as well as writing most of the tracks. 

The result is a tougher, more straight-ahead jazz rock album as Beck deploys his increasing variety of tones and styles to create a greater emotional depth, from the explosive Led Boots to the tender acoustic Love Is Green. But once again it’s a cool cover that lingers longest as Beck’s yearning vibrato tugs at the emotions on Charles Mingus’s Goodbye Pork Pie Hat.

There And Back (Epic, 1980)

Returning from a four-year break after Wired, Beck sticks to the same format with the same blustery enthusiasm, but this time he’s backed by two different bands offering a somewhat schizophrenic but no less absorbing take on his fusion style. 

On side one he’s still going toe-to-toe with keyboard maestro Jan Hammer whose playing ranges from cosmic to disco while Beck doesn’t miss a trick. Side two has Tony Hymas on keyboards with drummer Simon Phillips and bassist Mo Foster providing a harder rock backing that allows Beck to blaze away at will on the Latin-flavoured El Becko and the turbo-charged Space Boogie.

Jeff (Epic, 2003)

Watching rock legends team up with younger, hipper names in the hope of extending their shelf life can be embarrassing. But for Beck it’s all part of the quest; to keep himself invigorated. Having toyed with hard-edged techno grooves on his two previous albums, Beck takes the plunge on Jeff, bringing in Apollo 440 and experimentalilst David Torn to produce a couple of tracks each. 

Apollo 440 add their trademark beats to Grease Monkey and Hot Rod Honeymoon, while Torn makes a post-modern cross-cultural extravaganza out of Line Dancing With Monkeys and Plan B which won a Grammy for Best Rock Instrumental.

Performing This Week… Live At Ronnie Scott’s (Eagle Rock, 2008)

Considering how much of Beck’s reputation comes from his incendiary live shows, it took a while to capture the magic on tape. But this CD/DVD taken from a week-long residency at London’s famous jazz club made the wait worthwhile. 

If the impetuosity of youth is missing, the range of his awesome talent is displayed comprehensively. The set covers Beck’s entire career. There are guest spots from Eric Clapton and vocalists Imogen Heap and Joss Stone, and some unexpected covers including a haunting version of The Beatles’ A Day In The Life.

Who Else! (EPI, 1999)

Beck’s first venture into electronic music got mixed reviews at the time, but it has grown in stature since the novelty of the experiment faded, leaving just the music. On Who Else! Beck pits his wits against the techno sounds and rhythms of his longtime keyboard player Tony Hymas and is driven on by the ferocious two-handed tapping of fellow fusion guitarist Jennifer Batten. 

The diet of beats takes on a hypnotic quality at times regardless of the variety of tempos, but the same cannot be said of Beck’s playing, which blazes away regardless, pausing only to indulge in the live Brush With The Blues and the dreamy Irish folk song Declan.

Jeff Beck’s Guitar Shop (Epic, 1989)

Following a lacklustre excursion into pop-rock on his mid-80s album Flash, Beck gets back to business in the company of Tony Hymas and ex-Zappa drummer Terry Bozzio. And the range of material he tackles on what became a Grammy-winning album for Best Instrumental Rock is as diverse as he gets. 

There’s the lilting Caribbean rhythms of Behind The Veil, the smoking blues of Big Block, the fiercely rocking Stand On It, the funky A Day In The House, the moody Two Rivers, the ambient Where Were You and the final locked-in groove of Sling Shot. Needless to say Beck takes them all in his stride.

Crazy Legs (Epic, 1993)

Even a genius has to be allowed an occasional indulgence, and in Beck’s case it’s a homage to Gene Vincent’s guitarist from his Blue Caps band, the brilliantly understated and criminally underrated Cliff Gallup. Beck has always cited him as a major influence, which seems strangely odd at first, as he rarely plays rockabilly himself. 

He makes up for it here, though, with 18 tracks from Vincent’s peerless catalogue with Gallup, performed straight and unadorned in the company of British rockabilly maestros the Big Town Playboys. Beck is not about to mess with his hero but, capricious as ever, he leaves out Be-Bop-A-Lula.

Emotion And Commotion (ATCO, 2010)

There are Jeff Beck fans who claim that he has never made an avoidable album, but this return from a seven-year break could be described as superfluous. The lush production by Trevor Horn wreaks of an ulterior motive – the dinner-jazz audience maybe? And you have to question the wisdom of a 64-piece orchestra on a Jeff Beck album. 

It starts well with a poignant Corpus Christi (based on Jeff Buckley’s version) followed by a rousing Hammerhead. But it soon sinks into a strange ambivalence, and it’s hard to believe Beck chose to cover Over The Rainbow, Lilac Wine or Nessun Dorma of his own free will.