Beck Revisits a Love Long Gone on Ride Lonesome

Austin Yagoda

Writer

August 13, 2026

Beck likes two things: his guitar and making sure no two albums sound the same. While his discography has taken him across the whole range of genres, the singer has finally released a worthy sequel to his 2014 album Morning Phase, a collection of acoustic and stripped-down tracks that marked his departure from full-length folk and soul albums. Since then, Beck experimented until the studio kicked him out with the aggressively energetic Colors in 2017, followed by the toned-down and synth-heavy Hyperspace in 2019.

The return to his original sound seems like a sign of age slipping through, as despite his constant energy, he is pushing 60 years old. Stepping back into self-production and a strictly instrumental sound makes for a fitting second act in the vein of Morning Phase, and a reminder of his divorce seven years ago, which remains deeply felt throughout the runtime. “Ride Lonesome” spurs on the album with the words of a man in acceptance of his solitude, though not entirely lonely. “And you can’t put your arms ’round a memory,” Beck claims, and backs it up with “Run Away,” whose warmer, slow melody masks his hopeless and desolate lyrics.

“In the Night” introduces orchestral strings to the album, adding waves of slow and deep punctuation to a more somber track about the difficulty of letting go of a love long gone. “Your teachers and your saints… They’ll walk you to your grave… And say you’ll find your way.” The strength of the lyrics is not new to Beck, but it has been especially missed since the pre-Colors era of a much moodier Beck.

He carries this strength over to “Failed Words,” an easy one to figure out. Revolving around a simple and repetitive piano, the constant reminder of everything being “in vain” is deeply resounding, especially with percussion almost entirely missing, making it one of the purest listens on the album. Trading the piano back for the guitar, “Bleed” switches up the stage of grief with a more hopeful lyrical conclusion, claiming he’s “Waiting for a reason to bring your love back to life.” Beck’s high notes, in tandem with high strings, continue to emulate warmth throughout the track, making it a perfect sort of sunset listen.

Settling in with some country twang, “Disappearing Act” rides slowly out of the dust and keeps the lyrics very light. The song contains a fitting emptiness echoed by the lyrics, discussing roads that lead to nowhere, and was recorded with some previous collaborators from Sea Change, the spiritual precursor to Morning Phase.

“For Your Love” acts as a dramatic interlude on the album, with sweeping violins creating the atmosphere of what could easily be a film soundtrack. With deep acceptance and reservation when reminiscing over his lost lover, Beck admits there’s “Nothing I can do now.” The next track, “Slow Canyon,” refuses to give up, however, repeating “I want you… Yes, I do,” and likening himself and the missus to fireworks and hurricanes, meeting in the sky.

Sounding like he’s ready to run after his lover on the street, “It Ends Right Here” builds up soft tension, speaking on all the time and effort spent on a hard-earned love, then drops it all when singing the titular lyrics: “It ends right here.”

“Falling Through My Hands” could easily be what happens after giving chase during the previous song, with Beck seeing his lover with another. Much more resigned this time, he can only hope that she may say a prayer for him “If I make it to heaven without you.” Continuing with the feeling of loss is “If You Don’t Know What Love Is,” the next and quieter part of the quote being “you don’t know nothing at all.” Comparing a lack of love in one’s life to a soldier taking all the blows from battle, it’s evident where Beck’s heart lay while writing the album.

Leaving himself with more questions than answers, Beck rounds the final bend with “Beyond the Light.” Though the entire album is similar in nature in both feeling and production, the finale raises the unnamed lover to religious status, the lyrics trembling in the presence of such a force of love undone. “When the sun set on our love… And we drove into the night… With no goodbye?” This is what we are left to deal with ourselves, a difficult situation after over a decade of an upbeat and optimistic Beck.

Ride Lonesome was a more than welcome return for this version of the singer, reuniting with old collaborators and tapping back into his own deep well of production ability. The entire listening experience of the album is nothing but pleasant and relaxing, more fitting for an open road than Alafaya Trail, but we make do with what we have. After a dozen years of waiting for Beck to complete the arc started by Morning Phase, Ride Lonesome hopefully doesn’t end it, but rather serves as the midday of a longer cycle that he would be all too happy to end on better terms.

Edited by: Jade Read