Minimalist Hootenanny From Independent Beck : (***) BECK, “One Foot in the Grave”; <i> K</i>

Warm, folk-blues finger-picking, the strings out of tune and buzzing, the voice a droopy-eyed drawl. No, it’s not a batch of newly discovered Mississippi John Hurt masters--it’s L.A.’s bohemian hip-hop folkie art-monster Beck, with another in his string of follow-ups to February’s major-label debut “Mellow Gold.”

Under his contract with Geffen, Beck still gets to make records for independent companies, and in this volley, for the hermit-like Olympia label K Records, he holes up for a hootenanny with some Northwest pals who play some drums and bass and raise their voices in free, if off-key jubilation. There aren’t any stop-in-your-tracks anthems a la “Loser” in Beck’s playhouse, just modestly engaging, minimalist tunes and a couple of experimental squalls.

It positions Beck as a cross between Woody Guthrie and Syd Barrett--cogent and stubbornly spacey, lethally alert behind the somnolent facade created by his sleepy murmur. Beck picks his way through a cultural landscape whose structures no longer provide direction in life and love, and his battle to maintain his bearings yields funny and touching scenarios, whether he sounds like Lightnin’ Hopkins, Ray Davies or the guy from Pavement. Rather than put-ons, the periodic evocations of the blues’ spiritual fundamentals become solid steppingstones in treacherous waters.

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