NZ Herald (31 May 1999) - Russell Baillie:
Most bands grow out of that awkward adolescent stage of trying to sound like five different groups. The Beastie Boys, on the other hand, seem to have just kept growing into the idea over the years, their brand of hip-hop rubbing up against punk, rock and jazzy, 70s soul-shaped funk on their sprawling 90s albums.
So when it comes out on to the live stage - as it did before a sell-out Auckland crowd on Saturday, you just strap yourself in for the style slalom and hope it all works out.
It did. Fabulously. Certainly better than when they were here last time, when the musical indulgences drained the show's energy. This time, the swerves from freewheeling rap (backed by spectacular turntablist Mixmaster Mike) to yelping punk to funky noodling to songs that managed various mixes of everything was less a case of musical Attention Deficit Disorder than one of an inviting .. night in front of Radio Beastie: We play bits of the 70s, 80s and 90s all blended up together, real good.
The core trio of Adam Horovitz (occasional guitar), Adam Yauch (occasional very handy electric and double bass), and Mike Diamond (occasional drums) had help from a keyboardist (vintage sounds a specialty), a percussionist and a drummer as well as the aforementioned DJ. Which made for some real musical colour and the thought that somewhere along the way, the trio have learned to play like the musos, their sample/cut-up aesthetic was meant to replace.
And that combined with the sheer energy of the band's beaty bouncy hip-hop made for a 90-minutes-plus show that only really sagged a little during the quickstep punk numbers. Oh, and also when the trio attempted to say something thoughtful about the Nato strike on Yugoslavia and all that. But they meant well and earlier Diamond had admonished crowd-surfers down the front (Beastie Boys encourage sensible behaviour shock!). Yes, it seems the band that helped invent the "parental advisory" sticker have become a little caring, sharing and even a little parental themselves. And judging by the teen-to-thirtysomething crowd, they just might be the first trans-generational hip-hop crew.
Not that the maturity affected the enjoyment or energy levels. Especially when it was bouncing through the herky-jerky slightly time-warped rap of Body Morin' or the retro-futuristic Intergalactic near the end, with tracks from much of last album Hello Nasty providing the backbone of the set.
By the time it came to last song of the encore, Sabotage - easily the best punk-metal, hip-hop wig-out of the decade - the Beasties had left in their wake much evidence of their askew brilliance.
Long may their protracted musical adolescence continue.
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