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| Beastly Joys It's 1986. I'm enjoying my post-elementary school routine - grabbing a Coke and popping a squat right in front of the living room TV just in time for "Dial MTV," the network's 1980s precursor to "TRL." Names like Bon Jovi and immortal rock legends Cutting Crew graced the countdown, with Mr. Jovi & Co. usually grabbing the coveted No. 1 spot. On this day, however, there were some newcomers. Three raucous and raunchy white boys from New York, to be exact, busting into someone's house. One of them dumps Spanish Fly in the punchbowl. One smashes an acoustic guitar against the wall. Madness ensues. Pies are thrown. Apparently, partying is a right one must fight for. Mom walks in and sees said video, chastises the group, and yanks my MTV privileges for a full month. Flash forward to 1999. It's summer, and I make plans to head to Milwaukee for the Tibetan Freedom Concert. Mom asks me where I'm going for the weekend. I explain to her that the three villainous rabble-rousers who caused her to put her fist down and deprive me of my precious MTV 13 years earlier were holding a benefit concert. The guy who smashed the guitar and set the magazine on fire in the video had converted to Buddhism, and many popular groups were converging upon one stage to promote human rights and the liberation of Tibet. "Wow," she says. Oh mom, you're just jealous, it's the... oh, I won't bother saying it. You see, artists tend to use the term "reinvention" freely. Attempts usually fail (See Hammer: The Funky Headhunter), and send the artist on a crash-and-burn into obscurity. But over the years, the Beastie Boys have gone through more musical reincarnations than a busload of Hare Krishnas. The beer-swilling crew of the Licensed To Ill era made way for the blunted Boho funk of 1989's classic Paul's Boutique, an album which saw the Beasties become mad scientists in the underground lab, throwing unlikely elements into the mix (a Johnny Cash sample, Bob Dylan lyrics) and churning out one of the most successful experiments ever. 1992's Check Your Head found the Beasties behind the instruments again, producing a punk-rap hybrid worth salivating over, and continued along the same vein with 1994's Ill Communication. Their most recent release, 1998's Hello Nasty showed inevitable maturity, which one would expect when the Beasties entered their 30s, but no absence of the smart-alecky lyrical prowess that makes their sound so irresistible. The mystery surrounding the Beasties remains, though.
How can they cross genres so freely and pull it off with critical acclaim and gusto? As musicians, the Beasties are able, but not masters. In terms of lyrics, they can be borderline ridiculous ("I'm the king of Boggle/ There is none higher/ I get 11 points off the word 'quagmire'"), the kind of prose that would earn any other MC the doomed distinction of Laughing Stock of the hip-hop community. Not only that, but many of the hip-hop pioneers who paved the way alongside the Beasties (Public Enemy, Ice-T, Run-DMC, etc.) have fallen off the map, with the exception of an occasional "Behind The Music." And on the flipside, how did the cacophonous "Sabotage" off of Ill Communication come out of nowhere and storm the mainstream, especially when punk rock is generally considered an underground phenomenon? Fear, Exploited, Black Flag, even the quasi-mainstream Rancid never received such notoriety. Out of all these crews, how are the Beasties the last men standing? We'll leave that unsolved mystery to Robert Stack. Take the thrash of "Heart Attack Man," the ass-shaking flow of "Shadrach" or "Hey Ladies," and bluesy '70s instrumentals like " Sabrosa" and "Groove Holmes," and define that style. Then try to describe the color blue to a blind guy. You'll find it's easier to do the latter. As a devout follower of the Beasties for years now, I still can't place their sound into one specific genre even if you put a gun to my head (which the now-Buddhist MCA, aka Adam Yauch, would not approve of), and that's part of the beauty of it. Some musicians I hope stick to their original formula. I hope Green Day doesn't continue going soft and spew out more of those "Time Of Your Life"-type songs. I hope U2 doesn't try another techno experiment again like they did on Pop. But with the Beasties, I anxiously await what they have up their sleeves next. Few and far between are the artists who freely hop from genre to genre and experiment because they're doing what they want to, not because they feel obliged to follow the format. I'm sure you could hand Adam Horovitz a hammered dulcimer and it would somehow wind up on the next record. They do whatever the hell they want how they want to do it, and inexplicably, it comes off as a masterpiece. No sound is too unnatural, no lyric too inane. And for future reference: Mom, they no longer perform "Fight For Your Right To Party." Can I have my MTV back now? |
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| Back when they were hanging with the Maharishi, David Vrabel was known as 'The Fourth Beastie.' Dave has been with Nude As The News since its humble beginnings, and he's currently planning a move to picturesque Bloomington, Indiana. |
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