Happyrunr
09-18-2004, 05:57 AM
Cough. Hack. Wheeze. Beastie Boys? It's hard to imagine a less fitting name for the three middle-aged rappers that appeared at the Bill Graham Civic Auditorium on Thursday. They flubbed song lyrics. They hobbled around the stage. Within the first five minutes of the show, two-thirds of the lot were already gasping for air. At least in the early days, they meant to do these things.
But nearly 20 years after sparking their live reputation with wild-eyed shows bedecked with go-go dancers and a large inflatable penis (those were the days), Michael "Mike D" Diamond, Adam "MCA" Yauch and Adam "Ad-Rock" Horovitz still know how to put on a fantastic show.
Dressed in matching electric green tracksuits and backed solely by lightning-fingered DJ Mixmaster Mike, the trio compensated for all the mistakes with dumb jokes and goofy charm. When that didn't work, they dusted off classics like "Brass Monkey" and "Shake Your Rump." And when that didn't do the trick either, they made even bigger, louder and more amusing mistakes.
It didn't matter. The Beasties had already risked being completely upstaged by letting a group of acrobatic dogs called Bob Moore's American Mongrels open the show. Not only that, they secretly stashed away their big spring-break hits ("Gratitude," "Sabotage") for a surprise encore that started well after the house lights had come on and at least half the crowd had already filed out of the building, disappointed that the band hadn't played its big spring-break hits.
The trio's latest album, "To the Five Boroughs," is made up almost entirely of songs that prick George W. Bush with Dr. Seuss-style rhymes. So it would have been safe to assume that the hip-hop misfits would use their first proper tour in six years to drive their point home. There is an election coming up. They always seem to want to show people how much they've grown. And there is all that Free Tibet business they're always banging on about. Instead, the Beasties gave us the liver-trembling "Super Disco Breakin'."
There were a few small jabs at Bush, mostly delivered through spliced video clips of Will Ferrell portraying the world leader at his finest and through mumbled wisecracks while the band members attempted to regain their breath between songs. But by and large the trio's 90-minute set -- made up on the spot through several lengthy onstage debates -- attempted to celebrate every point of its career.
That's no easy task, considering that the Beasties have gone from Madonna's opening act to pimple-faced pranksters to blaxploitation-obsessed stoners to chin-stroking yoga masters and beyond. They stopped short of performing "Fight for Your Right (to Party)" but somehow thought it appropriate to throw on powder blue tuxedos and make like a Mexican wedding band for a sleepy instrumental suite that included "Sambrosa" and "Lighten Up."
Then again, the last bit might have been a nod to the future because, quite frankly, even the Beasties must know they're beginning to sound like retired racehorses; their days as a rock-hard live band peaked in 1992, and taking five-minute breaks between three-minute songs is just unacceptable. This is the point where most normal rock bands would grow beards and start making Afro-jazz records with Sting -- something the band members seem to have considered.
But then they beamed themselves up to the balcony to perform a neck- cracking version of "Intergalactic," and it became clear that, for the moment, despite the breakdowns and blunders, the Beastie Boys are still basically terrific. Yes, even better than a pack of tightrope-walking dogs.
But nearly 20 years after sparking their live reputation with wild-eyed shows bedecked with go-go dancers and a large inflatable penis (those were the days), Michael "Mike D" Diamond, Adam "MCA" Yauch and Adam "Ad-Rock" Horovitz still know how to put on a fantastic show.
Dressed in matching electric green tracksuits and backed solely by lightning-fingered DJ Mixmaster Mike, the trio compensated for all the mistakes with dumb jokes and goofy charm. When that didn't work, they dusted off classics like "Brass Monkey" and "Shake Your Rump." And when that didn't do the trick either, they made even bigger, louder and more amusing mistakes.
It didn't matter. The Beasties had already risked being completely upstaged by letting a group of acrobatic dogs called Bob Moore's American Mongrels open the show. Not only that, they secretly stashed away their big spring-break hits ("Gratitude," "Sabotage") for a surprise encore that started well after the house lights had come on and at least half the crowd had already filed out of the building, disappointed that the band hadn't played its big spring-break hits.
The trio's latest album, "To the Five Boroughs," is made up almost entirely of songs that prick George W. Bush with Dr. Seuss-style rhymes. So it would have been safe to assume that the hip-hop misfits would use their first proper tour in six years to drive their point home. There is an election coming up. They always seem to want to show people how much they've grown. And there is all that Free Tibet business they're always banging on about. Instead, the Beasties gave us the liver-trembling "Super Disco Breakin'."
There were a few small jabs at Bush, mostly delivered through spliced video clips of Will Ferrell portraying the world leader at his finest and through mumbled wisecracks while the band members attempted to regain their breath between songs. But by and large the trio's 90-minute set -- made up on the spot through several lengthy onstage debates -- attempted to celebrate every point of its career.
That's no easy task, considering that the Beasties have gone from Madonna's opening act to pimple-faced pranksters to blaxploitation-obsessed stoners to chin-stroking yoga masters and beyond. They stopped short of performing "Fight for Your Right (to Party)" but somehow thought it appropriate to throw on powder blue tuxedos and make like a Mexican wedding band for a sleepy instrumental suite that included "Sambrosa" and "Lighten Up."
Then again, the last bit might have been a nod to the future because, quite frankly, even the Beasties must know they're beginning to sound like retired racehorses; their days as a rock-hard live band peaked in 1992, and taking five-minute breaks between three-minute songs is just unacceptable. This is the point where most normal rock bands would grow beards and start making Afro-jazz records with Sting -- something the band members seem to have considered.
But then they beamed themselves up to the balcony to perform a neck- cracking version of "Intergalactic," and it became clear that, for the moment, despite the breakdowns and blunders, the Beastie Boys are still basically terrific. Yes, even better than a pack of tightrope-walking dogs.