the countdown is on. hot sauce committee part 2, the beastie boys much anticipated new album is due out very very soon preceded by the lead single - make some noise. the album will launch complete with 30 minute long short film on may 03.
are these guys still relevant twenty five years on? they're certainly still bringing the units home to roost with commercial longeivity two generations on from when they were skinny ass punk kids releasing polly wog stew.
but i love that they've returned to their experimental roots & ultimately they were transmedia pioneers way before this somewhat overused naf term was part of modern day vernacular. it is a luxury they can now well afford. but does the softness of distance and age produce too many round corners...
cooky puss is still one of my alltime fave hiphop tracks. gold.
mike D, MCA & ad rock were always masters of in your face parody, especially of themselves. these guys are hard wired. even punk hip hoppers can succumb to middle-aged spread -- this doesn't need to dilute the mix. even if they do outsource a chunk of their material & rely on gen scouts to keep their hand in what's hip. it's called delegation people.
here's a taste of what's to come via a mishmash of released "leaks". there's no mistaking that sound...
i played with them backstage in the late 90s in london. don't remember where. we all got up to late night shenanigans in their hotel room talking shit until the small hours. my GF at the time landed DJ hurricane. in fact she used to always bag the managers or whatever when we were backstage as if she were collecting stamps.
i was happy to stay celibate & soak up the vibe without the need to put out. the whole almost famous methodology has never been on my menu. groupies are a necessary evil to some extent but from the early days of running events/bands i always had a slight disdain for the system. it's amazing how many chicks will put out for a band. even the roadies get lucky. the sweet stench of rock and roll an aphrodisiac for many.
1964: in pride meets horror my grandmother in christchurch witnessed on new zealand television my teen mother & her older sister disappear into the beatles car fanned by thousands of hysterical girl fans heading straight for their hotel. eventually they were returned home simultaneously illuminated & disheveled with various autographed items which have become mythological family heirlooms. afterward, no cherries were ever seen again. i guess someone had to do it.
thanks to my dear friend james scott for introducing me to the beastie boys all those years ago & really fostering the love of skate punk culture & sounds as championed by the ill communication ilk. may there be another twenty five more years [at least] to go. let's make some noise.
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