Welcome back to the second part of my three-part tribute to
MCA and the Beastie Boys.
Yesterday I tried to express my gratitude to MCA and the
Beastie Boys for rescuing me from Indie rock and introducing me to a whole new
world of music through their 1998 opus, Hello Nasty. Today I would like to
explain how Hello Nasty led me not only to other music from the Beasties’ back
catalogue but to have the confidence to go out and figure what music I really
loved, irrespective of the vagaries of taste, fashion or musical boundaries.
Hello Nasty – The In
Sound of 1999
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| 3 MCs and 1Sardine Can. Photo: Nah Right |
Nowadays a chance musical discovery would normally be
followed up by a Google search to discover virtually every song that artist had
ever recorded. Back in 1999 however I only had the radio, NME, word of mouth and
my local record shop to help me make sense of all the wild and wonderful new
music I had heard on Hello Nasty and figure out where to go next with it. Throw
in the fact that I had pretty limited funds and CDs were expensive and I was a super-fan
of the Beasties, looking on from the sidelines.
Luckily for me, of all the albums I could have been stuck
with Hello Nasty offered rich musical nourishment. Let’s be honest, a 22 track
album probably conjures up images of a bloated rap album, full to bursting
point with largely unfunny between song skits and filler tracks featuring turns
by lesser crew members (think some of Ghostface Killah’s solo output). But
whether it was my age, my lack of purchasing power or my reluctance to lose
myself again to the likes of Manic Street Preachers, I got to know each and
every one of Hello Nasty’s tracks and, when I’d done that, set about reading
the album’s densely printed lyrics and references to obscure music the Beasties
had sampled.
With the benefit of hindsight I can see that I clearly had far too much time
on my hands. But you know what?, when you had spent your days at a single sex
grammar school and failing to chat up the girls I did have the chance to meet I
can see that the Beasties’ world of remote controls, space stations and 808s offered
a welcome break from my reality.
Scientists of Sound
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| Reassuringly well-presented. Photo: Eil.com |
Luckily for me and those around me I did eventually move on
from Hello Nasty. On Christmas 1999 I received the Beasties Boys’ newly
released anthology, The Sounds of Science. Given the difficulty and cost of
tracking down the Beasties’ music at that time, this double album retrospective
presented with a great way of deepening my understanding of the Beastie Boys’
music. The lushly produced package also drew me further to the Beasties’
mystique, with what I as a teenager considered to be incredibly cool
photography and partial reveals of the meaning and significance behind songs.
It was through The Sounds of Science that I discovered quite
how much the Beastie Boys’ sound had evolved over the years. Not only had they
been around for what to me as a 17 year old seemed like forever, they had in
fact started out as a punk-rock/hardcore band before making the switch to
hip-hop with Cooky Puss (though not on the anthology, sadly) , basically a recording of a crank call with excerpts
from a Steve Martin comedy record. The anthology exposed me to an incredible range
of music, from the cheesy ((You Gotta) Fight For Your Right (To Party), Brass Monkey),
psychedelic and experimental (Something’s Got to Give, Dub The Mic) and some of
the most ridiculously funky hip-hop put on wax (Sureshot, So What’cha Want).
In these times of Spotify playlists and glutinous MP3
collections it is easy to take musical eclecticism for granted but back in 1999
I knew the Beastie Boys were exposing me to sounds I would never have heard
from the likes of Feeder and The Bluetones. By the way, if anyone knows of a
lost dub classic or sound collage from these bands or the Britpop scene more
generally please let me know and I would be happy to take back what I have just
written.
Getting It Together
After binging on The Sounds of Science I was well on the way
to discovering my funky side. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t ditch listening to
my old friends Radiohead. And I remained partial to a bit of Underworld (check
out King of Snake). But through the
Beastie Boys I felt newly confident to check out A Tribe Called Quest (thanks
to Q-Tip’s stellar guest turn on Get It Together). I also tracked down Paul’s
Boutique at a music festival. Around this time, a school friend introduced me
to music which has somewhat unfairly maligned as ‘backpack hip-hop’. Groups
like Jurassic 5 and the edgier (and, let’s face it, sometimes overly worthy)
Dilated Peoples were clearly influenced by the Beasties yet had their own
distinct styles. What these groups had in common, and which the Beasties taught
me, was that it was possible to be funky and intelligent. And whilst I can’t
lay claim to either of those qualities, it’s good to have aspiration.
South Yorkshire State of Mind
After school I headed north to attend Sheffield University,
a move in large part inspired by the band Pulp. Whilst I did once catch a
fleeting glimpse of Jarvis on Division Street it was the Beasties’ musical
eclecticism which would continue to have the biggest influence on me throughout
my university years and beyond.
I’ve got so many musical memories from this time of my life
but in a token nod to brevity (it’s probably a bit late for that now, natch)
I’ll try to focus on my favourites:
- Bonding with my History tutor over RUN-DMC. I don’t know what it says about the state of higher education but my 18 year-old self was pretty impressed to find my History tutor also found the time to manage the Record Collector shop in Broomhill. Through this shop I picked up cheap second hand copies of the Beasties’ Ill Communication (such a great album) and RUN-DMC’s greatest hits. To this day I am sure I got better scores in History because my tutor respected the fact that I, unlike his other charges, had a healthy respect for all things old school.
- Blowing my student loan at Fopp. For those of you too busy leading rich and fulfilling lives, Fopp is an independent chain of music shops. Its chief distinguishing feature was selling back catalogue CDs for a fiver. It’s now a shadow of its former self with only a couple of stores left but back in the early 2000s Fopp allowed me to slake my musical thirst. Mirroring the Beasties’ eclecticism I sampled everything on offer, from classic albums from The Beach Boys and Sly and The Family Stone through to more modern offerings by the Wu-Tang Clan and Cypress Hill. Of course I can’t pretend there weren’t missteps along the way (Barry White’s Greatest Hits and a Tim Westwood compilation most immediately spring to mind), inspired by the Beasties’ sense of adventure, I was able to massively expand the soundtrack to my life.
- Taping The Avalanches’ DJ set off of Radio 1, circa 2001. Ever since hearing Paul’s Boutique I’ve been geekily obsessed with the possibilities of sampling. This meant I was blown away by The Avalanches, an Australian collective whose debut album, Since I Left You, is made up almost entirely of 100s of fragments of charity records. Any group that can weave Beach Boys and Crosby Stills & Nash alongside rather different West Coast luminaries Ice-T and Dr. Dre deserves to be supported. Inspired by the DJ set I duly tracked down the CD after a length wait for it to be released in the UK and set about convincing friends and family to give the album a go.
The Next Episode
True to my word, I’ll be back with the last part of my tribute to MCA and the Beasties Boys in the day couple of days, which will look at how even after the high point of my fandom in 2004 the Beasties continued to be a part of me and give me the / foolhardiness to try new things and be true to myself. One week on since the news of MCA’s passing I want to say thanks once again to MCA for the music and inspiration and leave you with MCA’s opening shot from Pass TheMic:
If you can feel what I’m
feeling then it’s a musical masterpiece
Hear what I’m dealing
with then that’s cool at least
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