They always say that the good ones die young. Emotions make us human and I always kind of giggled when I would see people expressing any type of emotion when a musician/celebrity would pass; very much in the same way the world collectively gasped upon the news of the passing of Princess Di.
I’m not getting any younger and I’m constantly reminded of that when the news of the music world as you knew it starts to fade before your eyes. The first time I felt a sense of loss was the death of Michael Jackson. Jackson paved the way for the “short-film” music video. The Beastie Boys ran with that idea.
We had cable at our house growing up with illegal cable filters that allowed for us to have every channel under the sun, except Showtime. My sister and I had no parental supervision and essentially we were left to our own devices and as a result, we watched a ton of MTV growing up. The first time I saw the raucous “(You Gotta) Fight For Your Right (To Party)” video, I thought that’s how all teenagers cut a rug and rebelled against their parents. For the rest of my upbringing, my mental picture of what a typical high school party consisted of dudes wearing leather jackets and wife beater combos while guzzling copious amounts of hooch.
My step-brother, Louie (which we pronounced Laauuuueee), had older cousins in California that took him under their wing. This was around the time of middle school when “Ill Communication” was released and that summer, “Sabotage” was on auto-play on MTV for every 45 minutes. Louie came home after spending his summer out west with a pair of black Pumas with the wide laces that he had seen being worn by the Beasties. Until that point, the Beastie Boys were in the back of my head but reached front and center with that album.
A right of passage growing up on the border of El Paso/Juarez was going to Mexico when you had a fake ID and a friend that would drive to the bridge or drive into Juarez and go clubbing/bar hopping. The “drink and drowns” at the Tequila Derby on the Avenida Juarez strip was notorious for slinging the lowest grade booze and Coronitas to all of the underage kids. What did they care? We were just happy to have somewhere to cut loose without parental supervision, so the (dis)service of cheap booze was of no consequence for anybody. Many Fridays were fueled by buckets of beer, Sex on the Beach and “Brass Monkey” or “Girls” rumbling through the many speakers at the two-floor high school hookup palace.
I worked at a jeans folding store around the time “Hello Nasty” was released. The Muzak compilation included a bossanova calypso instrumental track that was sandwiched around a flute that immediately took you to an ocean-side hotel in Brazil. “Song for Junior” was that Latin tinged material that had me looking over the Muzak playlist and had it narrowed down to a couple of artists. It was around this same time that I realized it was the Beastie Boys mind screwing with me. The trio had embraced all things NYC, but that also included the vibrant Puerto Rican/Cuban culture that was often ignored in their earlier catalog. The guys personified everything of what NYC would sound like if she were an album.
RIP, MCA.
Beastie Boys – Root Down (5 Alive Remix) [mp3]