As you are probably aware, Adam Yauch, better known as MCA of the Beastie Boys, passed away from cancer yesterday at the age of 47. I felt like he deserved a tribute here, especially since in addition to making incredible music with his two compadres, his contributions also extended to the political realm... most specifically in his efforts on behalf of the Tibetan people, but also for social and spiritual consciousness in general.
Here's a nice video tribute to MCA, featuring the song "A Year and a Day" from Paul's Boutique:
The most incredible musical acts don't stay in one place, they evolve. The Beastie Boys are about as good an example of this as anyone.
Originally formed as a hardcore band, by the time the Beastie Boys recorded their debut album they'd already switched over to rap. License to Ill, with songs like "(You Gotta) Fight for Your Right (to Party)" and "No Sleep till Brooklyn," was a hilariously juvenile bolt of uninhibited, irresponsible fun that was the first #1 selling rap album. As TPM notes, there was a time when they were being held by Tipper Gore and others as everything wrong in our culture, and indeed some of their early lyrics are incredibly offensive. But for most people they were just the class clowns.
Then, just as everyone was ready to turn the page on them as another "one hit wonder," they came out with an album I could only describe as a creativity explosion. Paul's Boutique was a masterpiece that took sampling to a whole new level. It didn't sell as many records as License to Ill, but it reverberated through the hip-hop community and beyond.
Afterwards though the band realized they couldn't afford to continue to pay the licensing rights for all those samples, so decided to take some time and really learn how to play their instruments, which led to the album Check Your Head, another certifiable masterpiece. Then of course their next album, Ill Communication, put them back in the public eye in a big way, most notably with their hit "Sabotage." And they continued making great music for years to come.
The creative evolution of the band was something to behold, but it was also personal evolution. They grew up. And people my age grew up with them. Mark Richardson at Pitchfork captured this dynamic perfectly:
Growing up like I did in the 1980s and 90s-- middle class, suburban, white, living a sheltered life but curious about the wide world outside it-- the Beastie Boys were a constant influence. First they were hilarious, then they were cool, then they started to realize what was really important. My arc as a person-- from goofing around and listening to Licensed to Ill as a teenager to thinking about MCA's acknowledgment of the group's earlier boneheaded misogyny in "Sure Shot" as I was well into adulthood-- progressed more or less in parallel. I related.
Yauch was a driving force behind the band's maturation. Richardson
continues:
MCA was the spiritual center of the trio, even before he became a student of Tibetan Buddhism. There was a certain kind of Beastie Boys track that I liked to call a "State of MCA" dispatch, starting with "A Year and a Day" from Paul's Boutique. The group was known for its 70s references and corny jokes, but these MCA songs hinted at a yearning for something deeper. "A Year and a Day", with Yauch's double-time rhymes over a snaking guitar sample pulled from the Isley Brothers' "Who's that Lady", moves from talk about taking LSD and going skiing to the more complex thoughts that would guide the rest of his life. "My body and soul and mind are pure," he raps at one point, and then, "So once again the mirror raised and I see myself as clear as day." On Check Your Head, the dialog continued with "Stand Together", a track that always seemed like an extension of "A Year and a Day": "I don't see things quite the same as I used to/ As I live my life, I just got me to be true to."
Upon converting to Buddhism MCA became the clear spiritual center of the group... sort of their George Harrison :) Honestly, listening to lyrics like these from Bodhisattva Vow right now I can't help but get a little emotional:
If others disrespect me and give me flak / I'll stop and think before I react / Knowing that they're going through insecure stages / I'll take the opportunity to exercise patience / I'll see it as a chance to help the other person / Nip it in the bud before it can worsen / A chance for me to be strong and sure / As I think on the Buddhas who have come before / As I praise and respect the good they've done / knowing only love can conquer hate in every situation / We need other people in order to create / The circumstances for the learning that we're here to generate / situations that bring up our deepest fears / So that we can work to release them until they've cleared / Therefore, it only make sense / To thank our enemies despite their intent.
And of course he translated his beliefs into action by putting together a series of Free Tibet festivals, which generated money for that cause, while injecting politics into popular culture. Tom at Stereogum writes:
Legend has it that Yauch became dedicated to Tibetan rights after learning about the issues on a 1993 snowboarding trip to the Himalayas. And he spent years working hard on raising public awareness of Tibet’s plight. But the Tibetan Freedom Concerts, the gigantic stadium shows he organized to help raise money and awareness on the issue, were also by far the best music festivals of their day. At the initial 1996 concert in San Francisco, the Beasties headlined on a bill that included Rage Against The Machine, Pavement, Sonic Youth, a Tribe Called Quest, Björk, Beck, and John Lee Hooker. I went to the 1998 show in Washington, DC, a couple of weeks after graduating high school. That was the one where the stadium got evacuated because lightning struck somebody, but my memories of the show are still mostly musical ones: Michael Stipe joining Radiohead on “Lucky,” KRS-One barking through some Boogie Down Productions classics, Pulp’s set ending, heartbreakingly, before they could get to “Common People.” These were incredible, moment-defining shows, and they came to happen because of Yauch’s passion for this one issue and his desire to help a population that needed it badly. A decade and a half later, Tibet remains under Chinese rule. But in that moment, it really felt like Yauch was pushing my generation toward doing something.
While Tibet's situation has not changed, the public is at least aware of the of their plight in a way they were not before. And, more generally, for people of my generation it was an early nudge towards getting engaged and thinking about the outside world.
David Weigel at Slate:
For people of a certain age, the Yauch-spearheaded Tibetan Freedom Concerts were the first wholly non-ironic mass political events. There was generic "please vote for Democrats" activism (Rock the Vote), pro-choice activism (every L7 album) and AIDS awareness activism, coupled sometimes with a two-minutes-hate against somebody who strayed from the line.
The Tibetan Freedom Concerts were a bit bolder than that. They became punchlines, eventually, but they started as expressly political events intended to sign up new recruits to a human rights cause that the government (then the glorious Clinton-Gingrich cohabitation) didn't want to touch.
In addition to being a Buddhist, rapper and bass player, Yauch was also a vegan, a skater, and a filmmaker, making those amazing B-Boys videos that everyone remembers (under the pseudonym Nathanial Hornblower), as well several documentaries. In fact in recent years he became
a bit of a film mogul, helping to shepherd along a number of films through his production/distribution company
Oscilloscope Laboratories, which he co-founded.
If you're in the mood to listen to some B-boys today, check out this mix put together for their induction to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
Yauch is survived by his wife and daughter.
They call him Adam Yauch but he's MCA. And he will be missed.
Rest in Peace.