Friday, May 04, 2012
"I Can Blow You Away or You Can Ride With Me"
If you argue with the fact that the Beastie Boys changed the face of hip-hop -- that they've been pioneers, a group always years ahead of their time -- and that Adam "MCA" Yauch was a vital part of that brilliance and ingenuity, there's something very wrong with you.
Thank you for everything, MCA -- you will be sorely missed, man.
Rolling Stone: Beastie Boys' Adam Yauch Dead at 48/5.4.12
You're hearing a lot of the same sentiment on Twitter right now regarding the death of MCA: This one hurts. And it does. A lot. Like so many, I can only speak about my personal attachment to the band and its music and, quite frankly, both have been an integral part of my life for 25 years. Imagine that -- 25 years. When I was a senior in high school, Licensed to Ill was the unofficial theme music of my class -- the wild-eyed, balls-out party record that seemed to give us all tacit permission to break every rule imposed by adults with both middle fingers held high. Seeing the Beasties on the Licensed to Ill tour -- at a stop in South Florida in which I had to buy scalped tickets and during which the audience actually pulled pieces of drywall off the back of the arena to fan themselves with because of the intense heat -- remains one of the best concert-going experiences of my life. In college, the band I played in worshiped the Beastie Boys. The college radio station I worked at, WVUM, had a rotating cast of kids who all worshiped the Beastie Boys. The band followed me throughout my life, getting older with me, growing with me, always being great, always being vital, never getting dull and forever being a symbol of my transition from impetuous, arrogant youth to only slightly less impetuous and arrogant adulthood -- they were always there. I realize I'm rambling here, but maybe that'll help make it clear how badly this really does hurt. The Beastie Boys have always been more than a band to me, more than an audaciously powerful force in hip-hop and in music in general. They've felt like mine -- the true voice of my generation. And it's devastating to lose one of them because it feels like losing a friend.