Jeff Beck

An echo, a distortion, a reverberation. Jeff Beck, guitar wizard, weaves the strings with a finely chiselled technique, the fruit of unalterable creativity and outrageous perfectionism. This man does not sing: he prefers to let his Fender, do it for him.

Jeff Beck is not a careerist for a penny. He could have competed with more virulence with his friends Éric Clapton and Jimmy Page in the charts. Yet he doesn't care, the prodigy from the suburbs of London. Only one thing matters to him: making his white Fender purr all the way to the top. And that's because the Yardbirds' propulsion engine, known for its free and spontaneous play, only needs a few acrobatic notes to kill the game.

Jeff Beck masters it all! This jazz tightrope walker, lulled by the songs of Django Reinhart and the blues of BB King, puts his influences in fusion with a goldsmith's technique to drive the lovers of the scratch crazy. His notes bounce back, his effects transcend certainties. The English virtuoso, elusive and unpredictable, loves risk, constantly navigating troubled waters and playing deliciously with a palette of a thousand colors. "If I died, I wonder what label the tabloids would put on me", he sometimes laughs.

This Jackson Pollock of sound, abstract handyman and profound visionary, is wrestling with scores as his inspiration explores uncharted territory. On the canvas, with intuition, freedom and genius, he projects sounds with a psychedelic tendency. His work has no equal. His experiments, surprising and intrepid, leave you speechless. Moreover, it's a good thing, like an Earl Hooker, Jeff Beck never sings. With his ordinary nonchalance, he prefers to let his guitar scream through solos out of reach.