Just a brief non-maudlin (I hope) reflection on the passing of MCA, and by extension, the Beastie Boys:
He started out as the scariest one (scary being a relative term when you're talking about 3 self-parodying white Jewish boys) with whom to party; assuming you had fought for and won the necessary right to do so. Leather jacket, squinty eyes, and a grown man's five o'clock shadow. Like the dangerous kid in your class who was supposed to be a year ahead and actually knew where to get weed.
And then as they got older, he became a proponent of buddhism. He became reflective of and concerned with the actions his lyrics could cause. He grew up first and he took us with him. He was still a blast to hang out with, but he also talked about responsibility, non-violence, and love for your fellow man. The coolest dad on the block was also the wisest.
Here's the simple thing about the Beastie's music. They were fun and they made everyone feel cool. Which is a straight paradox, making everyone feel cool. It's such a warm thing for an artist to do. Skater, baller, or suburban couch potato, we were all Brooklyn bound wise asses when we listened to the Beastie Boys.
It's the joy in their music that makes it so infectious. It's music that's joyous, funny, clever, thoughtful, cool, gleefully self-effacing, and just always comes through with fucking funky beats man. And it could make you feel that way too. Especially if you were whiling away your early teens as the only Jewish boy in a town of 2500 people. Of course, I was the closest thing to a Beastie Boy most of those people had ever met, so there's that.
So . . . thank you Adam Yauch. And Rest in Mutha Fuckin' Peace.