What Do I Know? My Album Pick of the Day...

I’ve never enjoyed the Beastie Boys.
That’s heresy around these parts, but let me tell you how it’s possible to appreciate them nevertheless.
A few years back, a motion picture caused quite a stir at the box office.
People lined up for days to get tickets.
Sleeping outside theaters in homemade costumes, engaging each other in light saber battles over who’s love was more authentic, it became an endurance test for all who wanted to be among the first to witness George Lucas’ addition to his heralded trilogy.
We all remember our anticipation of the premiere of Star Wars Episode I- The Phantom Menace and at the time, J.Jerry stood amongst them waiting to get us tickets to the midnight show and the first showing the next day.
A fucked up car kept me from making the midnight show. Gangsta Warner gibbered and taunted me over the phone, reminding me again how much excitement I’d be missing. Thankfully, the next day the car was ready to go and meeting up with Gangsta was possible.

Over the years of knowing Gangsta Warner, I’d heard many mentions of J.Jerry. Maybe we’d met, hard to say for sure. Gangsta would usually try to explain an amusing exchange they had but much of their shared experiences are encased in years of in-jokes and no one had bothered to give me a decoder ring. Hanging out with both of them would hopefully help bridge the gap.
As we cruised over to pick up J.Jerry, Gangsta was already waving around the Natalie Portman action figure he scored by plowing over small children at a midnight Nerds Only unveiling the local Toys-R-Us had the week before. Now, he tried in vain to hold it together at the thought of seeing a then barely legal Portman in her Queen Amedala clown make-up and head gear. Something about it got him all hot n’ bothered.

J.Jerry’s shared an apartment in Madison with four other guys, a fraternity of the pop culture obsessed. J.Jerry’s room still blows me away to this day. Wall to wall it housed every Star Wars action figure ever made in the original packaging. Saying that sounds an exaggeration but, let me do that one better: he also had duplicates of all those same figures without the packaging too. With the new line of figures coming out there was an impending issue with space and to compound it J.Jerry’s obsessions were leading him in a new direction—vinyl.

We piled in Gangsta Warner’s car, J. Jerry taking shot gun, and rustled a tape out of his pocket: The Beastie Boys Ill Communication. The tape happened to be one of the formats J.Jerry owned of this particular album.
“You like the Beasties?” asked J.Jerry
Shrugging at the question seemed like the best way not to look like a dick. The Beastie Boys to me were the noxious creators of “Brass Monkey” the song my high school’s pom-pon squad perpetually did routines to for four years. Mike D’s constant grating nasal voice always stayed in my head longer than any of the beats.

“Sure Shot” blasted and Gangsta Warner’s ride bounded down Madison’s side streets to the beats. Gangsta and J.Jerry bickered about the best parts of the midnight showing of Phantom Menace, Gangsta’s anxious over analysis of some girl at work’s playful grins, how low Gangsta’s chain hung, and all sorts of shit.

We caught the movie and were children all over again when the John Williams soundtrack started and large yellow letter scrawled down the screen preparing us for what was to come. After we left the theatre we got back in the car the Beasties tape flipped to side two and we continued on our day scouring Madison for used pop culture gems. The tape never leaving the stereo, a constant loop throughout the rest of our day.

What sticks out most about that experience, the thing that still remains in head when I travel through Madison is Ill Communication. That album ended up in my collection but it never sounds the same anywhere else outside of Madison. The base and the beats and even Mike D never sound as bombastic as they do cruising through Madison. I love the fusion-hop-acid-trip-jazz-rock-whatever-it-is that they’re doing on this album..

So how do you convert a Beasties hater?
Go see Star Wars with Gangsta Warner and J.Jerry, or maybe just refuse to take no for answer and play it over and over until somebody hears what fun sounds like.