Old Timers: Beastie Boys - "Ill Communication"

Ahhhhhhh shit! Ya herrrrrrd me! What can honestly be said about the Beastie Boys? Everybody already knows they kick ass. Everybody already knows they’ve managed to hook in people that would normally try to stray away from hip-hop, for whatever reasons they may come up with. Everybody already knows that these motherfuckers are goofy as hell. I’m mean, what else could you want from them?

Ill Communication is a hella album, plain and simple. Not only does it provide us with the breaks and rhymes we all know and love, but it also hooks us up with some of the Beastie Boys tracks as a New York hardcore band. True, they were awful as said hardcore band, but it’s still fun to hear them give it a shot sometimes. Overall though, the hip-hop tracks are the obvious standouts. They provide a fresh feel while including a heavy does of the old school sound, and that is just what the doctor ordered (I assume). Who can stand still to “Root Down”? The answer: no one. Even that tough-acting-straight-edge-hardcore-‘I only listen to Blood for Blood’-guy out there can’t help but dance. Sure, he’ll play it off as if he’s making fun of the song, but the fact is, he just wants to get down. Don’t be embarrassed, homeboy. All your tough-acting-straight-edge-hardcore-‘I wear my Boston baseball cap backwards cuz it proves I wanna fight’-guy friends are thinking the same thing. Once you get moving, they’ll all join in on “making fun” of the song, too. I’ve seen a million times before. Then they light a blunt and all get turned on to heroin and prostitutes.

But seriously, this album is one of those that can be turned on at your friend’s place and everyone seems to know every word. Hell, it’s got fucking “Sabotage” on it. You can’t even pretend to not like that song. Even priests pour holy water on themselves, drink the sacred wine, eat all those cracker-things they like so much, and dance naked to that song. It’s that good. I bet the only guy that doesn’t like it is Mike Huckabee, but fuck that doucher anyway; he doesn’t count. He’s like a god-bot or some shit. Uncool, brotha.

Alright, enough of my babbling. Pull this album out and put it on. Play it loud. Invite people over. Have a goddamn good time for once. You know you haven’t since your bastard child was born.

A refresher aka "Sabotage"