uring her stint with Satan’s Undercover, Sara Beck attempted to moan and wail about poop and death without a trace of irony. Since then the lanky Midwestern singer-songwriter has developed a sound more accurately reflective of her talents. Now the only dirty thing about Beck is her pseudonym—Pink Nasty. That, and a few lines about cherry-breakers and white trash.

Any crude material evident on her debut effort Mule School, however, pales in comparison to her work with brother Ted, aka Black Nasty. The elder Beck has gained a rather notorious reputation for being the most offensive touring act to appear at Salt Lake City’s Urban Lounge. His album A.I.D.S Can’t Stop Me is Tipper Gore’s worst nightmare, a vile tribute to the master of the uncouth—Mr. Easy E. Still, Beck isn’t worried about the possible negative connotations associated with her sibling’s public persona.

“If people don’t like me because I had a hand in making songs about feet and humping dogs and sexing Anne Frank…then I will just tell them I had nothing to do with it,” she says. “Deny, deny, deny!”

Then again, it’s unlikely Beck will ever have to issue any public statements regarding her credibility—the music speaks for itself. Mule School is 14 tracks of sugary vocals just sweet enough to draw listeners into the punchline. Each song is ripe with personal-turned-universal meaning. Beck’s ability to relate heartache, loneliness, desire and fulfillment is impressive. For example, when she admits, “I must be the strangest girl I know/ ’Cause everybody has everybody I don’t,” anyone who’s played the outcast will pound his or her fists on the table and say, “Yes! That’s exactly how I feel/felt!”

Even the more confident individuals will find truth in Beck’s musings. A straightforward delivery helps her avoid comparisons to the angst-ridden artist toting an acoustic guitar around to coffeehouse open mics. Much like “Saturday Night Live’s” famed “Weekend Update” commentator, Tina Fey, Beck oozes intelligence and sex appeal, both unified and controlled by fantastic comic timing. It is for this reason that she holds her own in a male-dominated sphere without risking exploitation.

Her interest in music sparked with a serenade by an early crush. Rather than become a groupie, Beck decided make a scene of her own. “I was instantly hooked on boys and guitars, and boys and guitars,” she says. “So I kind of became one.”
After aiding Ted in his dream of making “a raunchy, hip-hop masterpiece,” Beck asked him to return the favor by helping her achieve a different sort of triumph. He agreed, and the former “junior-high Jewel” advanced to the next level. Most of Mule School was written over the course of one year, although a few older tracks are also included. During the recording process, Beck experienced a wide range of production possibilities—from professional and formal to pennypinching casual.

“We did the first couple of songs in North Dakota in a really nice studio,” she says. “I had never been in a real studio before—the equipment was really nice and they even let me touch the microphones.” After churning out some radio-friendly hooks, Beck traveled to Lawrence, Kan., for a more relaxed session. Most songs were recorded in one or two takes in order to capture the essence of rock. “The vocal room was the laundry room,” she says. “At first, the pile of dirty underwear scared me, but in the end it shaped the way I sang.”

Judging by the results, aspiring singers everywhere should start tossing soiled linens into their rehearsal space. The collection offers a bit of everything—honey-tinged ballads, up-tempo pop tunes…even a cover of the Phil Spector/Berry Gordy classic “Be My Baby.”

The album’s title is also a tribute of sorts—referencing terminology common among Kansas natives. “Say your friend screws you out of some money,” Beck elaborates. “You would say, ‘you took me to Mule School!’ Or if you see a boy with six-pack abs and a six-pack of Bud Ice, you would say, ‘I wanna take him to Mule School!’ See?”
Hmm…some things are best understood in context—everything else is just plain nasty.

Look for the real deal on tour this spring with Black Nasty and the Rodeo Boys. Check out photos and audio clips at www.pinknasty.net.
jamie@red-mag.com