For a band that started off playing hardcore hardcore, the Beastie Boys have sure travelled a lot. The New York trio's trademark hyperactive, scream-rapping, over-the-top goofiness is nowhere to be found in the collection of their early works, Some Old Bullshit. If there was a whiff of the sound of things to come, it was in the number, Cookie Puss. The rest was hard metal growls that would make Korn seem like John Denver.
But the Beasties we like, the Beasties we love, came to us in the form of their debut album, Licensed to Ill. From the ‘not-so-NGO-after-all’ Fight For Your Right (To Party) to the dork-anthem Brass Monkey, Adam Yauch, Adam Horowitz and Michael Diamond became the Marx Brothers of suburban rap. But the fact that the two Adams and one Mike were weaned on a diet of Led Zepellin, AC/DC and Aerosmith was never lost. The ketchup-blood-thirsty war cry of “I can't stand it/I know you planned it” that opens Sabotage is a punk’s yell with a rapper’s arsenal.
The Beasties’ latest album, To The 5 Boroughs (EMI) is a far cry from both the spunk and the trash. Instead, it is probably what the trio is least capable of pulling off successfully: a serious rap record. How serious? Well, it’s heavily tinged with post-9/11 messages — complete with an album cover drawing of the NYC skyline with the World Trade Center prominently intact. But then, if you don’t follow the liner lyrics, you’re safe from understanding what they’re singing anyway.
My problem with To The 5 Boroughs has more to do with the music. Difficult as this might sound to a Beastie fan, most of the songs are as exciting as a metronome — on medium speed. Ch-Check It Out, 3 The Hard Way and It Takes Time To Build all sound like homilies being delivered by an inferior, rather dour Eminem. There are occasional signs of the legendary Beastie ‘humour’ rearing its pretty head. Sample this: “I’m the player and the coach, I’m no roach/I bought my grandma a brand new brooch”, sing the boys in Rhyme The Rhyme Well. But the rhyme that takes the cake, plum pudding and all must be the one in 3 The Hard Way: “If you sell our CDs on Canal before we make ’em/then we will have no other alternative but to serve you on a platter like steak-umm.” Not exactly Robert Browning here, but the Beasties were never meant to be the Victorian rapmeister.
In An Open Letter to NYC and We Got The, Adam Yauch seems to be showcasing his public role as a practising Buddhist. The light momentarily shines in Shazam! where the high screeches make a guest appearance (“I slash on beats like sauce on spaghetti”).
The fact of the matter is that the Beastie Boys have got serious and that can’t be good news from the block.
Which is what happens when talented musicians making delightful sophomoric sounds turn to grander things like social commentary. Even the tag ‘Parental
Advisory: Explicit Content’ doesn’t seem to carry much weight — and appeal — in this album.
My problem with To The 5 Boroughs has more to do with the music. Difficult as this might sound to a Beastie fan, most of the songs are as exciting as a metronome — on medium speed. Ch-Check It Out, 3 The Hard Way and It Takes Time To Build all sound like homilies being delivered by an inferior, rather dour Eminem. There are occasional signs of the legendary Beastie ‘humour’ rearing its pretty head. Sample this: “I’m the player and the coach, I’m no roach/I bought my grandma a brand new brooch”, sing the boys in Rhyme The Rhyme Well. But the rhyme that takes the cake, plum pudding and all must be the one in 3 The Hard Way: “If you sell our CDs on Canal before we make ’em/then we will have no other alternative but to serve you on a platter like steak-umm.” Not exactly Robert Browning here, but the Beasties were never meant to be the Victorian rapmeister.
In An Open Letter to NYC and We Got The, Adam Yauch seems to be showcasing his public role as a practising Buddhist. The light momentarily shines in Shazam! where the high screeches make a guest appearance (“I slash on beats like sauce on spaghetti”).
The fact of the matter is that the Beastie Boys have got serious and that can’t be good news from the block.
Which is what happens when talented musicians making delightful sophomoric sounds turn to grander things like social commentary. Even the tag ‘Parental
Advisory: Explicit Content’ doesn’t seem to carry much weight — and appeal — in this album.