james said:First, let me say that a couple times today I took great joy in bumping the aformentioned "A Year And A Day" at top volume while thinking about the beatiful simplicity of its construction (drums from "Ebony Jam," guitar from "That Lady," scratches from "High Powered Rap," free-associative solo fusillade from Yauch, boom, done), the sublimely bugged circumstances of its creation (Yauch in a darkened studio, spinning on an office chair and rapping through an army-surplus helicopter pilot's helmet that had been wired to the sound board), and its perfect overall realization, its presence. Man, still such an important record for me.
That said:
mannybolone said:I have to say, I've been fascinated with the responses to Yauch's death. I guess I'm surprised I'm NOT more affected by it. Obviously, I think it's a bummer, esp. given his age but while I think the BBs were incredibly important, they were never actually that formative to me. So, in that regard, I think Guru's passing - and definitely MJ's - were more personally impactful. This isn't, at all, to question why other people were so moved by Yauch. I totally get it even if I don't, personally, "get it."
I think I know what you mean.
The Beastie Boys actually were very formative for me, but even so, it's been a long time since they've put out anything that really mattered to me on a level deeper than being a diffusely pleasant reminder that somewhere out there the Beastie Boys were still doing their thing. I think this is the case for a lot of people, and it's been interesting to see Yauch's death become the occasion less for memorializing his particular contributions than for a kind of public funeral for the Beastie Boys.
I'm not trying to be cruel, but it really does seem like there's this widespread catharsis from people finally getting to openly say goodbye to a well-loved group that, privately, they'd long since written off.
You know, the Beastie Boys made some music that I really like. And I have a lot of respect for their genuine enthusiasm for lesser-known musicians and artists, and the way that they used their fame to draw attention to those artists. But I never really felt that their music was my music. So I was a little surprised at just how hard this hit me. I think because they were so huge when I was in elementary school and then again, but in a very different way, when I was in high school. They were just part of the fabric of that era and were so important to so many people who I knew (There was a whole little crew of dudes at my high school in suburban Atlanta who, embarrassingly, called themselves "the Brooklyn Dust Posse" and had a Beasties cover group). So it feels like a part of my own youth slipping away and that time receding further into the past.