"The Golden Age" (Beck)

Beck Hansen had spent the better part of the 90s making a name for himself as a purveyor of alternative hip-hop and off-kilter funk.  So when the aptly-titled album Sea Change came along in 2002, it threw everyone for a loop.
Here was an album that didn't shake with unbridled energy.  Instead, it quaked under the weight of the world.  
It was introspective, mournful.  There were no obscure samples.  No references to turntables and microphones.  Just heartfelt compositions that leaned toward deep blue alt-country on the musical spectrum, all largely built around delicate guitar melodies with pillowy layers of vintage keyboards, airy synths, steel guitar, and cinematic strings.
The album came on the heels of a breakup with his girlfriend of nine years, clothing designer Leigh Limon, after he discovered that she had been cheating on him.  What's more, the events of 9/11/01 were still very fresh on everyone's minds here in the US.  So, under the circumstances, it was the right set of songs at a time when many people, including Beck, needed to heal.
The album opener, "The Golden Age," sounds like the first steps to recovery.  The song begins slowly with folky acoustic guitar strumming and watercolor splashes of ambient noise over a deliberate beat.  As it unfolds, with Beck proclaiming (or trying to convince himself) Put your hands on the wheel / Let the golden age begin, elements like slide guitar, glockenspiel, harmonium, and electric keyboard float in, creating a sense of quiet desolation.  Sonically, it's a thread of open highway running through a vast, open desert, inviting you to leave your current state behind as you drive into the benevolent moonlight.
Even as he confesses These days, I barely get by, the feeling is that everything will turn out alright.  Which is why this song is always a favorite of mine when I'm seeking a momentary escape from the world.