Life Comes In Phases Take The Good With The Bad

Back in the mid- 90s when the Beastie Boys were the best band in the world they release a run of albums- Check Your Head, Ill Communication, Hello Nasty- that were effortlessly brilliant. Mixing rap, funk, punk, dub, scratching and sampling with live instruments, adding Money Mark on keys and their own particular, cockeyed worldview- anything from science fiction films, late 60s/ early 70s fashions, golf visors, ramen, the mullet hairstyle, Lee Perry- they had a golden streak where it seemed like everything they did was a brilliant idea and that you were in on the joke even if you only got 25% of the references. Anyone else from the same period that could be considered for the ‘best band in the world’ title had nothing on the Beastie Boys.

Their golden phase was heralded in 1989 by the album they made when they took themselves away from Def Jam and off to Los Angeles and re- thought everything they did. Hooking up with the Dust Brothers (the real Dust Brothers) they rented a villa with a pool and the owners wardrobes, stuffed full of 70s clothing, and made Paul’s Boutique. This album showed they were not the one- joke frat boys of Licensed To Ill and that they were not going to be one hit wonders. Paul’s Boutique is a rich, complex- but- simple, layered record, samples from one hundred and five different records sprinkled over backing tracks The Dust Brothers had already created. On top of this multi- coloured, vibrant album where songs are constructed with split second timing, the three Beasties placed their three way rhymes, adding another layer to an already dense record. Not that it sounds too dense, it’s all done with amazing beats, a sense of humour, innovation and a lightness of touch that draw you in from the moment the needle finds the groove (and this is very much an album that should be listened to on vinyl).

Looking Down The Barrel Of A Gun is one of the most straight ahead songs on  Paul’s Boutique, a dusty rock drum beat (borrowed from Michael Viner’s Incredible Bongo Band and their song Last Bongo In Belgium) rumbles away for a couple bars before the heavy guitar riff comes in, sounding like it’s on a turntable that is slowing down, and then the Beasties and their whining NYC rapping and smothered in echo describing the stupidity of violence…

‘Rolling down the hill snowball getting bigger
An explosion in the chamber the hammer from the trigger…’

There’s a Pink Floyd sample in there, the piano chord from Time, clanging away. The super heavy Black Sabbath rock vibes continue through til the tension snaps at one minute fifty…

‘Looking down the barrel of a gun
Son of a gun son of a bitch
Getting paid getting rich’

A pause, then the drums beat doubles and a guitar chord crashes in- both stolen from Mississippi Queen by Mountain- and the second half gets underway. Rambo, Bruce Willis, Son Of Sam and Clockwork Orange get name checked and the crunching riff and rolling drums carry us through…

‘You’re a headless chicken chasin’ a sucker freebasing
Looking for a fist to put your face in
Get hip don’t slip knuckle heads
Racism is schism on the serious tip’

The vocals finish at that point but there’s still a seriously deranged guitar riff to deal with, circling down the plughole, before the drum beat comes to dead stop.

Looking Down The Barrel Of A Gun

Time To Make You Mine

Credit where it’s due- I was reminded of this by reader and citizen of Salford Paul Bob Horrocks and it’s a stunning way to start Sunday. Rochdale’s Lisa Stansfield remixed by Battersea’s The Orb- ten minutes of ambient soul with a large portion of dub, beautifully smooth, slinky and chunky. Also quotes from Pink Floyd.

Time To Make You Mine (In My Dreams Mix)

Sign On You Crazy Diamond

…was a line in a Half Man Half Biscuit song. Not that that’s what’s here today. I’m not a fan of Pink Floyd. Most of this is irrational (or rational) prejudice formed in the 1980s. I watched The Wall and hated it. The sleeves are pretentious. The music always seemed pretentious too, too 6th form, pseudo profound. Their fans are… well, Pink Floyd fans. Roger Waters seems totally disagreeable. I don’t like Dave Gilmore’s face. And so on. In the late 80s as a student in Liverpool there was a pub we frequented, The Brookhouse on Smithdown Road, and each night as the bell was rung for last orders someone always (and I mean always) put on Money. It ruined every last pint I had. I still get chills at the sound of those cash registers.

However, as as been noted here several times, I do like The Orb. It’s a circle I can’t square. This came on a magazine cd recently, The Orb covering Shine On You Crazy Diamond (Part Two). It’s The Orb, so y’know, maybe Floyd can’t be all bad. Can’t believe I just typed that.

Shine On You Crazy Diamond (Part Two) (The Orb)