Every once in a while, your mortality smacks you squarely in the ass. And as your age climbs like the temperature in mid August, those smacks get a little bit harder, and sting a little bit more. As a child, I often wondered what it would be like when the heroes of my generation started dying- I watched my parents reactions when some of their favorites died and remembered thinking how freaky it was going to be when someone like John Taylor or Simon Le Bon would kick the bucket. And when I heard the news of MCA from the Beastie Boys death, the shock was like nothing I could really describe. Needless to say, the words of one of their most famous songs was heartfelt this weekend, but with a twist on the words- there was just no sleep IN Brooklyn as many of us tossed and turned and looked for some way to make sense of one of our own generation we lost way too early.
When Kurt Cobain died, it was such a moment- a hero and very much our own age killing himself- though I will never forget where I was when I heard about it (driving on the East River Drive in Philadelphia with my friend Tifa), it was somehow not as shocking because he went out the total rockstar way- the drugs, the self inflicted death blow. Though it majorly harshed all of our mellows, it made sense to me that he would go this way- and at 27, he had much in common with all the others before him that went at that age- Morrison, Hendrix, Joplin, Brian Jones.
I will say the death of Michael Jackson hit me like a ton of bricks, as did the death of Whitney Houston. Though neither of these artists were particularly part of my own DNA, you sort of thought such big stars would live forever- and I think I was more shocked to find out that MJ was in his 50s- he seemed so ageless to me- and Whitney's senseless death had me appreciating what a supreme talent she was, and how her songs were loved by so many, including myself. But they were both mainstream pop stars, and thus never really permeated my angst filled youth.
But the world without another Beastie Boy album and the death of one of them? Very different story.
I will never forget being in high school and meeting a kid who had transferred to our school in Philly from New York. He was tall and strange and had a swag that was not readily available in Northeast Philadelphia- he was both geeky and cool at the same time, and we simply referred to him as "New York Mark". He became friends with some other dude friends of mine, and all of them were obsessed with the Beastie Boys and began talking in that nasally sing song on a regular basis. I recall them calling me on my pink princess phone and ranting for hours in that voice, as I rolled my eyes yet found the whole thing silly and hilarious. It was the beginning of something very different- as a Jewish white girl wanting nothing more in life than to move to New York City, I found a band I could totally relate to, and I was just beginning to discover LL and Run DMC, I can honestly say the Beasties changed the game for me. I have always loved them and there is not really another band that screamed New York Fucking City to me like the Beasties did. I was completely obsessed with their mercurial punk/hip hop hybrid- having very strong affinity for punk rock as a girl, they were sort of the answer to my teenaged dreams. As for NY Mark, no idea where he went but my money's on the fact that he bounced out of Philly as soon as he could- he was way more 212 than 215, that's for sure.
But exotic high school transfers aside, the Beasties' musical canon is truly profound. Every album was outstanding, every jam worth blasting on your headphones as you walk the streets of the Lower East Side, every rhyme a perfect accompaniment to an otherwise boring subway ride. I have a hard time picking one but like my husband is telling me as he cooks breakfast, each of their 8 albums represents a part of our lives- Licensed to Ill was high school, Paul's Boutique was college, and Check your Head and everything after is part of my years living in New York. If I had to take one album with me to an island other than Manhattan, I think I'd have to go with Check your Head- it's crunchy grittiness is heavy, hard, and throbbing, with "So What'cha Want" being one of my favorite songs- that thick intro comes so hard you don't even know what hit you. And their music gave us not only the license to ill, but the inspiration to never grow up, to enjoy our youthful countenance even as many of us went on to have kids, pay mortgages, and hold down "straight" jobs.
I have no idea how to process that we have lost one of the trio, the beloved raspy and enlightened MCA. Hiss deep and throaty stylings were never off the mark- it's hard to imagine another group who were only as good as the sum of their parts.His death was beyond a shock to all of us- we knew he was sick but he did not die because of a drug habit or some other rock and roll vice. The fact that we lost him so early to Cancer was that swift kick in the pants I referred to above. I'm into my 40s now and the death of such a prominent part of my youth just feels like shit. And the fact that there will never be another Beastie Boys album is a huge drag. Watching Ad Roc and Mike D. accept their award at the Hall of Fame without MCA there (the show was recorded before his death; he was too sick to attend) and rocking some gray hair and lined faces was surreal for me- somehow the Beasties fell into that Michael Jackson twisted logic of agelessness- their boyish camaraderie and goofiness transcend, even though MCA is no longer with us. I also think the members of the Beastie Boys would be cool to any generation after theirs- I challenge you to find any 20 something hipster who is cooler than them. Where are all these years going when I can so clearly remember them being so young, though? To me, they always will be, and because of their music, so will I. My husband also happens to be a huge Beastie Boys fan- but then again, who in my age group isn't? The Beastie Boys belong to everyone- we grew up with them and I suspect many more will for years to come.
RIP MCA- you found your purpose later in life (a conversion to Buddhism and a passion for doing good) and showed us all an amazing time. We will never forget the way you penetrated pop culture, our youth, and our endless passion for New York City. And you can't, you won't, and you won't stop, cause that's what's up this beast of a Monday in the borough of Brooklyn. XO
PS- Forgot to mention that when people wonder why the fuck I love this city so much, it's because of the Beastie Boys, well a lot of it is anyway. Trust me it's way more them than Carrie Bradshaw. To me, they represent all that is right with this teaming mess of humanity- the self confidence, the raunchiness, the urban style, the hardness, the accessible smartness, and most of all- the joy of it all. The Beasties were one of the best advertisements for suburban youth to come to New York and try to slug it out here- they made it look so bloody fun, and with the Beastie Boys as the soundtrack to so many adventures here, it truly is. I already miss MCA so very much.