Beastie Boys "Paul's Boutique" (1989)

In 2004, The Beastie Boys released To The Five Boroughs. It was the first album of new music released by the trio since the attacks on September 11th 2001 that left an indelible mark on the city they (and I) were born in. To The Five Boroughs is a good record;  my co-host Garrett says it’s his favorite. For my money, though, the Beasties best and most heartfelt ode to New York City was 1989’s masterpiece Paul’s Boutique, an album that ironically was recorded in Los Angeles.

It’s hard not to think of the Beastie Boys without thinking of the Big Apple. After all, where else would three Jewish Gen-Xers fall in love with hip-hop at the start of the Eighties? Mike D, Ad Rock and MCA parlayed their affection for the then-burgeoning art form into one of the most successful debut albums of all time. 1986’s Licensed to Ill was the first rap album to top the Billboard Top 200 Albums chart, and the Beasties quickly became international superstars, rap music’s Great White Hopes, and the poster boys for a fratty, obnoxious image that was a cartoonish embellishment of their actual selves (as legend has it). Paul’s Boutique is less fratty maybe, but still bratty. I mean, the second rapped line on the album finds Ad Rock threatening to beat someone down with an aluminum bat. The Beasties, even at their best and most sincere, were still a bit on the obnoxious side. But the signifiers are, overall, less juvenile in tone and execution. The dudes who almost called their first album Don’t Be A Faggot shout out noted queer nexus The Village by album #2, and also take time to declare that “racism is schism on the serious tip”, distancing themselves from overtly (or covertly) racist and homophobic Middle American brosephs that fell in love with Ill songs like “Girls” and “Paul Revere”.

Lyrically, Paul’s Boutique is more specific and insular than its predecessor. There are actual stories here that have a basis in reality (unlike the aforementioned “Paul Revere”). “Johnny Ryall” is about a homeless guy that the Beasties encounter on the NYC streets (and was a real person, if you believe the Beastie Boys Book). “Stop That Train” (one of many mini-songs featured in the album’s closing suite “B-Boy Bouillabaisse” is filled with references to New York’s subway lines and references to activities that are romanticized by pre-gentrification NYC denizens these days (crackheads punching out train windows, smoking and pissing between subway cars). While the Beasties collectively are probably in the lower-third percentage of MCs from a skills perspective, they are in the upper-third percentage of MCs from a wit, charm and storytelling perspective, which helps the reliance on old-school routines and occasionally sloppy rapping go down a bit more smoothly.

And then there’s the production. Before sampling laws were really enforced, production crews like Public Enemy’s Bomb Squad were incredibly innovative, especially when it came to creating collages of sound from music created by other people. The Beasties (and album producers The Dust Brothers) were likely inspired by the Bomb Squad as well as Prince Paul’s kitchen sink-like production of De La Soul’s 3 Feet High and Rising, and took the same madman’s approach to sampling. A big part of the reason Paul’s Boutique grabbed me as a teenager and kept my attention was that it had me jamming the pause button every 45 seconds asking “what record did that come from?” Even in situations where the sampling is more obvious (for example, the loop of Ernie Isley’s legendary guitar solo from “That Lady” in “A Year And A Day”), that solo is chopped and scratched up to create something new (and MCA also sounds like he’s rapping through a cardboard tube, a trick he’d employ several more times before his untimely passing). It’s familiar and unique at the same time. And, unlike the songs on Licensed To Ill, many of Paul’s Boutique’s tunes are danceable, although I don’t think many people were grooving to the ‘70s inspired funk of “Hey Ladies” and “Shadrach” in 1989 when house music and Rhythm Nation were burning up the airwaves.

Actually, most people weren’t grooving to the Beastie Boys at all when Paul’s Boutique was released. The album famously stiffed, barely going Gold and not cracking the Top Ten on the charts. Thankfully, though, it was released in an era when labels gave artists second (and occasionally third) chances. Ironically, an album that was viewed as a flop saved the group (and let’s be real, if the fellas had tried to replicate License To Ill, it would have torpedoed their careers–that album aged like milk). Paul’s Boutique bravely set the course for Phase 2 of the Beastie Boys career (well, actually, Phase 3 when you consider the Beasties began life as a punk/hardcore outfit), a career that would ultimately lead to a 20 year run as hip-hop ambassadors and ultimately members of the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. It’s also one of the ten or so greatest hip-hop albums of all time in my opinion, a huge step forward for the band and for the genre.