FEATURE:
New York’s Finest
IN THIS PHOTO: Beastie Boys in 1986 in New York City (L-R): Michael Diamond (‘Mike D’), Adam Horovitz (‘Ad-Rock’) and Adam Yauch (‘MCA’)/PHOTO CREDIT: Michel Delsol/Getty Images
Beastie Boys at Forty: Their Five Essential Albums
__________
MAYBE it might seem reductive…
PHOTO CREDIT: Mpifreeberg/Mediapunch/REX/Shutterstock
narrowing the Beastie Boys’ eight studio albums to the best five. Because the legendary outfit are forty next month, I wanted to focus on their best albums. Before getting there, here is a little background on the Beastie Boys:
“Beastie Boys[a] were an American hip hop group from New York City, formed in 1981.The group was composed of Michael "Mike D" Diamond (vocals, drums), Adam "MCA" Yauch (vocals, bass) and Adam "Ad-Rock" Horovitz (vocals, guitar, programming).
Beastie Boys were formed out of members of experimental hardcore punk band the Young Aborigines in 1978, with Diamond as vocalist, Jeremy Shatan on bass guitar, guitarist John Berry and Kate Schellenbach on drums. When Shatan left in 1981, Yauch replaced him on bass and the band changed their name to Beastie Boys. Berry left shortly thereafter and was replaced by Horovitz.
After achieving local success with the 1983 comedy hip hop single "Cooky Puss", Beastie Boys made a full transition to hip hop, and Schellenbach left. They toured with Madonna in 1985 and a year later released their debut album, Licensed to Ill, the first rap record to top the Billboard 200 chart. Their second album, Paul's Boutique (1989), composed almost entirely of samples, was a commercial failure, but later received critical acclaim. Check Your Head (1992) and Ill Communication (1994) found mainstream success, followed by Hello Nasty (1998), To the 5 Boroughs (2004), The Mix-Up (2007), and Hot Sauce Committee Part Two (2011).
To mark four decades of one of the most innovative and inspiring groups in musical history, I have highlighted the five Beasties albums that everyone needs to own. In each case, I have given a link to where you can buy the album, in addition to the essential tracks. Here are five golden records from…
THE New York pioneers.
__________________
Licensed to Ill
Release Date: 15th November, 1986
Labels: Def Jam/Columbia
Producers: Rick Rubin/Beastie Boys
Buy: https://www.roughtrade.com/gb/beastie-boys/licensed-to-ill-0503e13a-15a3-46d3-81ea-d46473832609
Five-Song Essential Mix: Rhymin & Stealin/The New Style/Fight for Your Right/Paul Revere/Brass Monkey
A Positive Spin:
“Perhaps Licensed to Ill was inevitable -- a white group blending rock and rap, giving them the first number one album in hip-hop history. But that reading of the album's history gives short shrift to the Beastie Boys; producer Rick Rubin, and his label, Def Jam, and this remarkable record, since mixing metal and hip-hop isn't necessarily an easy thing to do. Just sampling and scratching Sabbath and Zeppelin to hip-hop beats does not make for an automatically good record, though there is a visceral thrill to hearing those muscular riffs put into overdrive with scratching. But, much of that is due to the producing skills of Rick Rubin, a metalhead who formed Def Jam Records with Russell Simmons and had previously flirted with this sound on Run-D.M.C.'s Raising Hell, not to mention a few singles and one-offs with the Beasties prior to this record. He made rap rock, but to give him lone credit for Licensed to Ill (as some have) is misleading, since that very same combination would not have been as powerful, nor would it have aged so well -- aged into a rock classic -- if it weren't for the Beastie Boys, who fuel this record through their passion for subcultures, pop culture, jokes, and the intoxicating power of wordplay. At the time, it wasn't immediately apparent that their obnoxious patter was part of a persona (a fate that would later plague Eminem), but the years have clarified that this was a joke -- although, listening to the cajoling rhymes, filled with clear parodies and absurdities, it's hard to imagine the offense that some took at the time. Which, naturally, is the credit of not just the music -- they don't call it the devil's music for nothing -- but the wild imagination of the Beasties, whose rhymes sear into consciousness through their gonzo humor and gleeful delivery. There hasn't been a funnier, more infectious record in pop music than this, and it's not because the group is mocking rappers (in all honesty, the truly twisted barbs are hurled at frat boys and lager lads), but because they've already created their own universe and points of reference, where it's as funny to spit out absurdist rhymes and pound out "Fight for Your Right (To Party)" as it is to send up street corner doo wop with "Girls." Then, there is the overpowering loudness of the record -- operating from the axis of where metal, punk, and rap meet, there never has been a record this heavy and nimble, drunk on its own power yet giddy with what they're getting away with. There is a sense of genuine discovery, of creating new music, that remains years later, after countless plays, countless misinterpretations, countless rip-off acts, even countless apologies from the Beasties, who seemed guilty by how intoxicating the sound of it is, how it makes beer-soaked hedonism sound like the apogee of human experience. And maybe it is, maybe it isn't, but in either case, Licensed to Ill reigns tall among the greatest records of its time” – AllMusic
Finest Jam: No Sleep Till Brooklyn
Paul's Boutique
Release Date: 25th July, 1989
Label: Capitol
Producers: Beastie Boys/The Dust Brothers/Mario Caldato Jr.
Buy: https://www.roughtrade.com/gb/beastie-boys/paul-s-boutique-14ae9c7d-1508-4233-bb96-9705a9c1b113
Five-Song Essential Mix: To All the Girls/Hey Ladies/Looking Down the Barrel of a Gun/Car Thief/Shadrach
A Positive Spin:
“At this point, anyone with even a passing interest in hip-hop culture should know the legend of Paul’s Boutique, the cut-and-paste masterpiece that transformed the Beastie Boys from cheeky party pranksters into fearless sonic adventurers. After originally flopping, the album eventually went double platinum, which means that the target demographic for its 20th-anniversary re-mastered re-release probably already owns it on vinyl, tape, CD, or MP3. The Boutique reissue contains no bonus tracks, just a goofy audio commentary where the Boys reflect fondly on their stoned youths, pontificating on the intricacies of egg-throwing and the real-life inspiration for “Johnny Ryall.”
So why would anyone buy this exquisitely redundant version of a stone-cold classic? Perhaps because it’s just about perfect, an essential product of a golden age of creative freedom where inspired crate-diggers like Boutique producers The Dust Brothers could get away with sampling anyone and everything, from The Beatles to Johnny Cash, without paying prohibitively expensive licensing fees. Boutique flows together like a single cohesive track: It takes such a trippy, kaleidoscopic, immersive ride through its creators’ pop-culture-warped minds that it’s hard to believe the journey lasts a mere 53 minutes. Those who don’t own Boutique should by all means pick it up. They might also want to pick up Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band and Thriller while they’re at it, and consider moving out of that cave. Then again, unlike with the recent Thriller botch (is anything improved by the addition of Will.I.Am?) the Boys know better than to mess with perfection” – The A.V. Club (20th Anniversary Edition)
Finest Jam: Shake Your Rump
Ill Communication
Release Date: 31st May, 1994
Labels: Capitol/Grand Royal
Producers: Beastie Boys/Mario Caldato, Jr.
Buy: https://www.roughtrade.com/gb/beastie-boys/ill-communication-c469c825-79eb-4058-a69b-78d973109ea5
Five-Song Essential Mix: Sure Shot/Root Down/Get It Together (ft. Q-Tip)/Flute Loop/Heart Attack Man
A Positive Spin:
“A whole album full of that caliber of straight-up hip-hop would've been a pretty safe bet for borderline-classic status, but the fact that Ill Communication frequently switches between that and their more sprawling live-band stuff actually adds to its kitchen-sink charm a bit-- largely because so much of it's cut from a similar cloth as the soul-jazz records they sampled for their lyrical cuts. Sure, the big axe-swinging titan at the center of this album is the fuck-yeah highlight "Sabotage", the meatiest slab of moshpit rap-rock aggression the Beasties ever put to tape, and it stomps around a bit conspicuously between the funk-bop grooves of "Root Down" and "Get It Together". It's a classic case of the album's biggest single being its least-representative track, though I ain't complaining about its inclusion in the least; I think the one time I listened to that song and didn't get all amped, I was in a bronchitis-fighting NyQuil stupor.
But the instrumentals that they'd started experimenting with on Check Your Head are a bit more at home here, and they benefit from some additional polish and a tighter structure. The growly, early-Funkadelic-meets-El Chicano doom-funk jam "Futterman's Rule", the violin-driven shtetl-dub of "Eugene's Lament" and Money Mark's sleek electric piano vibe-out showcases "Ricky's Theme" and "Transitions" reveal a band that's busted their asses in the process of honing a relatively new aspect of their craft. They also wisely relegate their hardcore tendencies to the realm of absurd intermission-caliber comedy tracks; they might not be the most indispensable songs, but there's something inherently hilarious about using Minor Threat aesthetics to rail against a "Bill Laimbeer motherfucker" pickup-game nemesis.
Like Check Your Head, this reissue of Ill Communication comes with a bonus disc of B-sides and remixes; unlike Check Your Head, the B-sides and remixes are mostly good-to-great, though a bit redundant if you already own 1995's Root Down EP and/or are uninterested in listening to 87 seconds of the Beasties playing basketball. Still, it's worth it to hear the Prunes' Free Zone Mix of "Root Down" and the live performance of "The Maestro" where Ad-Rock goes fantastically apeshit on the "yeah, you motherfuckers, I'm all that" bit. In any case, the best thing about this reissue is that it's a good excuse to reassess an album that isn't quite as derivative and tossed-off as you might remember.
Since it shared some of their previous album's stylistic tendencies, a few listeners were left trying to pinpoint where the groove ended and the rut began when the album first came out. It's still regarded in some circles as a water-treading attempt to continue drawing off the aggro-punk/garage-funk blueprint of Check Your Head, and lord knows I'll probably draw some what-the-fucks for opining that Ill Communication's actually a fair bit better. But once the Beasties got a steady grip on their live-band sound, the fact that they found a way to reincorporate the gleefully adolescent goofiness of Licensed to Ill and the retro-funk style and pop-culture obsessions of Paul's Boutique is what really let them put together their ideal here-to-stay mission statement” – Pitchfork (Deluxe Edition)
Finest Jam: Sabotage
Hello Nasty
Release Date: 14th July, 1998
Label: Capitol
Producer: Beastie Boys/Mario Caldato Jr.
Buy: https://www.roughtrade.com/gb/beastie-boys/hello-nasty-bb23d52d-5498-4943-8aa7-2223c2b446b6
Five-Song Essential Mix: Remote Control/Body Movin'/Putting Shame in Your Game/Three MC's and One DJ/The Negotiation Limerick File
A Positive Spin:
“Now comes a ludicrously fabulous, oftmanic, sometimes mellow 22-song long player of such astounding variety that it seems a lot longer than 67 minutes: Hello Nasty. Mike D, Ad-Rock and MCA opened their career with a pair of hip-hop albums (Licensed to III and Paul’s Boutique), then shifted gears for a pair of records that were more punk influenced (Check Your Head and III Communication). With their fifth proper album, a playfully mature Beastie record (if that’s possible), they turn the focus back toward hip-hop — there’s not one hárdcore punk song here — but with an understanding of how to conflate their two largest influences into one smooth-flowing package. Imagine the collaboration that Black Flag and De La Soul might have made, mixing jaunty samples and esoteric beats with punk-guitar crunch while shifting between that old we’re-havin’-fun-on-the-mike ethos and a primal, post-vocal wail. Imagine a sonic mix that’s about sixty-five to seventy percent the frenetic, sample-crazy hip-hop eclecticism of Paul’s Boutique and about 25 to 30 percent the funk-punk fun of III Communication — with a cool, Latin-influenced near-instrumental (“Song for Junior”) and a sublime Brazilian-flavored acoustic number called “I Don’t Know,” which is sweetly delivered by MCA(??): “I’m walking through time/Deluded as the next guy/Pretending and hoping to find/That distant peace of mind,” and at that point you, too, will do a double take What? Did my Smashing Pumpkins CD sneak into the player? No, that’s just one of the many nice surprises on Hello Nasty — they wail, they whisper, they sample Spanish, they sample a little kid, they let Biz Markie and reggae legend Lee “Scratch” Perry do whatever they want. Still, it all flows so neatly, it’s like a single, multigroove, multisample, multihook sound collage that kinda morphs into something else every few minutes, with movements titled in a classically smart-aleck Beastie fashion — “Super Disco Breakin,'” “Song for the Man,” “Sneakin’ out the Hospital,” “Dr. Lee, Ph.D.” Good luck digesting all this sonic info before Labor Day. Hip-hop hasn’t unleashed anything this fantastically dense since the heyday of De La and Public Enemy.
On “Unite” the Beasties chant, “We’re the scientists of sound/We’re mathematically puttin’ it down.” Here’s the equation. In one rhyme, Ad-Rock tells you, “Well, I’m the Benihana chef on the SP-12/Chop the fuck out the beats left on the shelf”; and later they add, “I keep all five boroughs in stitches.” That’s the Beastie dichotomy — they’re silly on the mike to make it fun, but they’re Ginsu sharp on the samples and beats, throwing their pure love of sound all over the place. And I’m not supposed to like it? I’m supposed to prefer formula-clinging stereotype promoters who, every so often, catch a ridiculous arrest and make us cringe? The Beasties, as innovative musicians and good citizens, contribute more to the hip-hop community than a lot of MCs. And I’m not supposed to like it? Yeah, right” – Rolling Stone
Finest Jam: Intergalactic
Hot Sauce Committee Part Two
Release Date: 3rd May, 2011
Label: Capitol
Producers: Beastie Boys
Buy: https://www.roughtrade.com/gb/beastie-boys/hot-sauce-committee-part-two
Five-Song Essential Mix: B-Boys In The Cut/Too Many Rappers (ft. Nas)/Don't Play No Game That I Can't Win (ft. Santigold)/Lee Majors Come Again/Crazy Ass Shit
A Positive Spin:
“In the ’80s and ’90s, hip-hop’s premier party advocates built a cache of seemingly infinite cool. But for the past 10 years, the Beasties have been in limbo, turning out sleepy albums like 2004’s To the 5 Boroughs and dealing with Adam ”MCA” Yauch’s cancer diagnosis. The spark of classic joints like 1992’s Check Your Head seemed like it might be gone forever.
Thankfully, Yauch is now in remission, and the group’s eighth album gets back to the business of being, to paraphrase their ’98 classic ”Body Movin’,” sweet like a nice bonbon. Although the trio is now collectively 135 years old, the Boys don’t spend Hot Sauce Committee Part Two pondering their own mortality. They’re too busy laying down noisy, minimalist funk (the glitchy ”OK”), rhyming former NBA star John Salley with Vogue editor André Leon Talley (”Here’s a Little Something for Ya”), and crafting a perfect reggae-kissed summer jam (the Santigold collab ”Don’t Play No Game That I Can’t Win”). And in case you forgot, the Boys are happy to remind you that there is a considerable amount of lyrical diesel left in their tank (”I’m running wild like rats in the Taco Bell,” declares Ad-Rock on ”Long Burn the Fire”). Hot Sauce is a lot like Daniel Craig’s übercool James Bond — another stripped-down return to a franchise’s best virtues after a decade or so of wandering the desert. It took a little time, but the Boys are back with a license to ill. A-“ – Entertainment Weekly
Finest Jam: Make Some Noise