Restless genius Jeff Beck never stopped exploring

Half a year before Led Zeppelin released its debut album, Jeff Beck invented Led Zeppelin’s sound.

Now I’m not throwing shade at Zep. Page, Plant and company went on to successfully, triumphantly change its sound over and over again. But Beck’s first solo record – 1968’s Truth – got there first. Go listen to “Let Me Love You” or “You Shook Me,” which Zeppelin would also cover on its debut, and you can hear Beck expanding on and exploding the blues.

Beck, who passed away on Wednesday, got to a lot of places first and never stopped exploring.

Way back in early 1966, when psychedelia had just started to emerge, Beck recorded “Shapes of Things” with the Yardbirds. The guitar break transcended anything previously laid to wax: an Eastern-tinted string of notes warped by feedback and fury that would influence Jimi Hendrix.

Half a decade later, Beck would herald the coming of funk and jazz fusion with groovy and sleazy guitar work on 1971 single “Got the Feeling.” In another five years, Beck would lean into fusion hard on “Wired” while laying the groundwork for fellow virtuosos such as Eddie Van Halen and Steve Vai (see the pyrotechnics of “Led Boots”).

While Beck planted his flag in virgin territory over and over again, he never made a home anywhere. Some cite this as his major failing – unlike his fellow one-time Yardbirds Eric Clapton and Page, he wouldn’t stand still long enough to build a massive solo career or find the right chemistry in a quartet. Instead, his career resembled his playing: absolutely free yet not directionless.

Beck’s knack for following his muse led him to avoid Clapton’s pop pandering and Page’s constant focus on the rearview – “Change the World” or Coverdale-Page anyone? Alternatively, Beck didn’t have much use for the Top 40 or nostalgia. Around the time Clapton did “Change the World,” Beck recorded the album “Who Else!,” a strange blend of techno, Delta blues, heavy metal shredding and ambient soundscapes. When he went retro in style, he always merged the past with modern energy – his 2001 take on “Rollin’ and Tumblin’” has a flash Clapton, Joe Bonamassa and John Mayer could never muster.

Restlessness can frustrate fans. And I won’t dispute this considering my own listening habits – I spend a lot more time spinning Led Zeppelin than Beck’s records. But restlessness can be an admirable artistic quality when compared with repetition.

On the Yardbirds’ 1965 album “Having a Rave Up,” Beck sounds like an ace blues guitarist, a player just a cut below Hendrix. On 1993 Hendrix tribute record “Stone Free,” Beck covers “Manic Depression” and sounds like a completely different guitarist, one who has absorbed and synthesized the influences of those who came after him – Hendrix, Van Halen, jazz guitarist Al Di Meola, experimental-metal wizard Vernon Reid. It’s the rare, restless genius capable of pulling off that kind of artistic evolution.