Hello Nasty
	1998

Hello Nasty, review by Wall Of Sound

Could it really be that the Beastie Boys—that obnoxious threesome of wannabe white MCs who were supposed to ruin rap like Pat Boone ruined R&B—are now seen as heroic saviors? OK, maybe not quite saviors, but with the old guard of hip-hop fans and critics (ahem) busy bemoaning the current state of the genre and even deciding that the retro-rappin' Black Eyed Peas sound good simply because they sound old (as in: circa mid- to late-'80s), it's clear that looking back at rap's golden era is a surefire way to grab our attention. Say hello again, then, to the Beastie Boys, the now-respected and perpetually backward-looking outfit whose heavily hyped new album, Hello Nasty, is their first proper effort in four years. Coming straight from "the family tree of old-school hip-hop," the trio nearly lives up to the hope and hype, especially when Boys will be B-boys, serving up the stuff that made them famous: spastic pass-the-mic rap routines; loopy lyrics laced with either meaningful messages, fits of braggadocio, cheeky cultural references, or all of the above; boombastic drum-machine beats; obscure, oddball samples; and blissfully bizarre instrumentation. "The Move," for instance, opens with a looped human beat box and is bolstered shortly thereafter by a rumbling, raucous drum beat and some zhigga-zhigga scratches before the Beasties come flying in together to declare: "I don't mean to brag/ I don't mean to boast/ But I'm intercontinental when I eat French toast." The second verse features a deadly dulcimer break, and the third includes a hilarious lyrical reference to Toulouse Lautrec, after which you can actually hear a muffled chuckle. The track then bottoms out with a booming bass drum before a sample of a Spanish-language pop song inexplicably appears. Similarly, "Intergalactic"—the album's lead single and its most forceful declaration of skills—opens with some buzzing electro-funk, vox-box vocals, and a pounding, stuttering beat before squiggly outer-space noises, sweeping strings (Rachmaninoff's "Prelude C# Minor"!), and a boatload of boastful lyrics coalesce. "If you want to battle you're in denial," Mike D chirps casually. "Coming from Uranus to check my style/ Go ahead put my rhymes on trial/ Cast you off into exile." The song, which references the Five Stairsteps' "O-o-h Child" and Kool Moe Dee's hip-hop philosophy, also features a nifty self-referential sample (Ad-Rock's "drrroppppp" from their debut, License to Ill). But for all the great hip-hop on Hello Nasty, it does lag in spots, mostly when the Beasties forget that "Mom said rock it till the break of dawn," and look to rebel by experimenting musically—not in a progressive-hip-hop fashion, ŕ la DJ Shadow, but in a completely unfocused genre-jumping one. A few such departures do work, breaking up the pace while still fitting within a hip-hop context. "And Me" features some trippy-dippy Casio keyboard lines that recall Money Mark's debut, and the song's fluttering drum-and-bass beat and cosmic sounds make it a match. The Santana-like instrumental "Song for Junior" is also pleasantly harmless, but other explorations just don't fit. The slippery, lyrically sensitive British music hall entry "Song for the Man" belongs on a merry-go-round, and while the folk-pop "I Don't Know" would be fine on its own, it is out of place here with its brush drums, gentle guitar arpeggios, and falsetto vocals from MCA. Elsewhere, "Picture This" is elevator music, with torch vocals by Brooke Williams, and the album's 22nd and final track, the Sean Lennon-like "Instant Death," is a horrible choice for a closer. Did the Beasties momentarily forget that "nothing sounds quite like an 808," as they declare on the album's "Sucka MCs"-sampled opener, "Super Disco Breakin'," or that Ad-Rock is "the Bennihana Chef on the SP12"? Apparently so. They're paying tribute to drum machines and samplers even as they choose to ignore them. Was a bit of editing warranted? Should the album have ended three songs earlier with "Unite," in which Ad-Rock declares, "In the next millennium/ I'll still be old school"? Perhaps, but CD players make home sequencing a breeze, and a few missteps aside, there is still more old-school hip-hop here than two Krush Groove soundtracks. That may not save the genre, but it should keep the summer party going long into September. — Josh Freedom du Lac

Hello Nasty, review by MTV

They're baaack! After four long years, and no full-length original albums to genuflect before, our beloved Beat-sies finally grace us with more reasons to keep our ears wide open and our jaws dropped in wonder. The sweet-and-sour tang of the title suggests what divergent treats are to be found here; from throwback beats, to swanky lounge experiments, to the presence of three female vocalists, Hello Nasty suggests that the Beastie Boys might be feeling the wear of constant innovation (and constant emulation), but it's not enough to keep them in check. Sure, their age shows through a bit here, too. (Although, who can resist references to HAL, Le Sportsac, "Ooh Child," and the arcade classic Defender?). But thankfully, they're paying little mind to the footprints ground into their well-pastiched front lawns, and moving boldly into uncharted territory. That's right, kids -- the Beasties sing! For real! But don't freak just yet. Kicking things off with java-fueled rhymes goin' on and on to the break of dawn, "Super Disco Breakin'" and "The Move" flow forth with giggle-inducing boasts ("Dogs love me 'cause I'm crazy sniffable") and bold, straightforward beats of fine Beastie vintage. But as we move into "Remote Control," a compelling pattern emerges. Seems our Beasties are obsessed with technology -- be it for providing us party people with the means to get our crush groove on (very good) or for providing the man with the means to monitor and control our lives or, worse yet, to convert us into becoming monitors and controllers ourselves (very bad). A self-questioning, almost paranoid vibe quickly takes over; even the tried-and-true mic check, "One two one two, this is just a test," gets a new purpose when the Beasties apply it to the meaning of life itself. Adam "MCA" Yauch's lyrically dense but tight "Flowin' Prose" is a real revelation, a spiritually strong rap delivered in hushed tones which ultimately admits futility at his own efforts: "And more ink from my pen and more tears from my eyes/And more crimes are committed as I say these lines." Regardless, Hello Nasty remains far removed from downer territory, with lines such as "I don't like to fight, I don't carry a piece" leavened with the likes of "I wear permanent press so I'm always creased." And then there's the brilliantly strict Limerick structure of "The Negotiation Limerick File" -- so good, the Beasties could easily parlay an entire concept album out of it. But things get out of hand when the guys go buck-wild with the vocal action. The legendary Lee "Scratch" Perry gets a showpiece here ("Dr. Lee, PhD"), as does breathy singer Brooke Williams ("Picture This"). But these tracks, as well as a gratuitous shout-out ("Dedication"), seem out of place, and they've unwisely been lumped closely together, only serving to weigh things down. The Santana-esque "Song for Junior," featuring a vocal by Luscious Jackson's Jill Cunniff, fits in more appropriately, and when the Beasties themselves try their hand at singing, it's positively enlightening. A head-rushing turnaround from their hardcore excursions, they straight-facedly sing-song through "Song for the Man," which sounds like a lost Blur B-side, and the lovely OMD doppelganger, "And Me." Dark territory is trespassed in "Instant Death," and a distinct mark is hit with "I Don't Know," a catchy little ode to self-doubt with sweet doot-doot-doo's supplied by Cibo Matto's Miho Hatori. "There is no other worthy quest/so on I go," sings Yauch. The sentiment might not necessarily be true, but we'll keep happily tagging along, anyway. -- Kim Stitzel

Hello Nasty, review by Rolling Stone

See all those stars up there? That means I can't walk down my block for a whole month. For a black man, championing the Beasties is like being down with Madonna or rooting for the Utah Jazz. Whether it's from a well-merited overprotectiveness of our precious culture or from mildly sour grapes, we ain't supposed to like people who take black culture and refract it through white lenses. Now, I hate the Salt Lake Celtics as much as the next guy, but the Beasties are complicated. Unlike nearly all white rap acts, the Beasties aren't white boys in blackface. They're the embodiment of the modern lower-Manhattan street kid. If hip-hop is as much a New York thing as it is a black thing, if keeping it real means faithfully representing your social aesthetic, if it's another way of saying perfect pitch, then the Beasties keep it as real for their peoples as Jay-Z and Snoop do for theirs. For modern lower Manhattan, Kids is The Godfather and the Beasties are Sinatra. Now comes a ludicrously fabulous, oftmanic, sometimes mellow twenty-two-song long player of such astounding variety that it seems a lot longer than sixty-seven minutes: Hello Nasty. Mike D, Ad-Rock and MCA opened their career with a pair of hip-hop albums (Licensed to III and Paul's Boutique), then shifted gears for a pair of records that were more punk influenced (Check Your Head and III Communication). With their fifth proper album, a playfully mature Beastie record (if that's possible), they turn the focus back toward hip-hop – there's not one hárdcore punk song here – but with an understanding of how to conflate their two largest influences into one smooth-flowing package. Imagine the collaboration that Black Flag and De La Soul might have made, mixing jaunty samples and esoteric beats with punk-guitar crunch while shifting between that old we're-havin'-fun-on-the-mike ethos and a primal, post-vocal wail. Imagine a sonic mix that's about sixty-five to seventy percent the frenetic, sample-crazy hip-hop eclecticism of Paul's Boutique and about twenty-five to thirty percent the funk-punk fun of III Communication – with a cool, Latin-influenced near-instrumental ("Song for Junior") and a sublime Brazilian-flavored acoustic number called "I Don't Know," which is sweetly delivered by MCA(??): "I'm walking through time/Deluded as the next guy/Pretending and hoping to find/That distant peace of mind," and at that point you, too, will do a double take What? Did my Smashing Pumpkins CD sneak into the player? No, that's just one of the many nice surprises on Hello Nasty – they wail, they whisper, they sample Spanish, they sample a little kid, they let Biz Markie and reggae legend Lee "Scratch" Perry do whatever they want. Still, it all flows so neatly, it's like a single, multigroove, multisample, multihook sound collage that kinda morphs into something else every few minutes, with movements titled in a classically smart-aleck Beastie fashion – "Super Disco Breakin,'" "Song for the Man," "Sneakin' out the Hospital," "Dr. Lee, Ph.D." Good luck digesting all this sonic info before Labor Day. Hip-hop hasn't unleashed anything this fantastically dense since the heyday of De La and Public Enemy. On "Unite" the Beasties chant, "We're the scientists of sound/We're mathematically puttin' it down." Here's the equation. In one rhyme, Ad-Rock tells you, "Well, I'm the Benihana chef on the SP-12/Chop the fuck out the beats left on the shelf"; and later they add, "I keep all five boroughs in stitches." That's the Beastie dichotomy – they're silly on the mike to make it fun, but they're Ginsu sharp on the samples and beats, throwing their pure love of sound all over the place. And I'm not supposed to like it? I'm supposed to prefer formulaclinging stereotype promoters who, every so often, catch a ridiculous arrest and make us cringe? The Beasties, as innovative musicians and good citizens, contribute more to the hip-hop community than a lot of MCs. And I'm not supposed to like it? Yeah, right.

Hello Nasty, review by Music Critic

No wonder it is this summer's hottest selling album. The Beastie Boys are back at it, kicking out the jams with the style only they can deliver. Old-School meets new school? Not in the least. It is classic Beastie Boys gone galactic. This album, their fifth studio release, is the Beastie Boys. If you are not familiar with the Beasties, they are THE biggest white hip-hop band ever. Having gotten their start in the early 80's, these Manhattan boys began as more of a joke than anything else. Their first single was recorded in a dorm room, and the quickly became the biggest frat band of the 80's. Their style is very old-school, even with the new technologies included in the new album. One can see the Black Flag influence, with their rap/hip-hop style mixed in with rock elements. Hello Nasty builds upon their classic style along with adding the futuristic sounds which are only possible through today's technology. This mixture leads towards a 90's Beastie Boys. Mixmaster Mike rips through the vinyl. Not many groups break out the vinyl these days, and of those that do, there is nothing much to brag about. If you want to see what can be done with vinyl, check the album out. Mixmaster Mike is featured on more than a few tracks. Many of the other tracks include guest vocals by artists such as Brooke Williams, Lee "Scratch" Perry, and the Diabolical Biz Markie. The album also has a wide variety of musical guests performing on various instruments from the violin, to flute, to cello, to beatbox. The album's instrumental tracks range from laid back to mexican styled jams. "Intergalactic" was a great choice as first single from the album. It shows the Beastie Boys, though already in their early 30's, are still capable of the same as they were as before. Their songs may not focus as much on partying, women, and drinking as before, but as times change so does music. They are still having fun, whether rapping about their music, singing a ballad, or just letting everyone know how much ass they kick. I mean, how many bands can get away with sampling their previous works? You either have to kick some serious ass, or else be an idiot, and Beasties are no idiots. (Adam Yauch is the founder and organizer of the annual two-day Tibetan Freedom Concert). They are out to have fun, and give their fans what they want. "Unite" even samples what sounds like the 80's Atari™ game - Asteroids® - very interesting when set over a carnival beat with rap overlay.