Boys Don’t Cry

I cried on Friday. And then on Saturday.

I am not the sort of person to cry very often. Mainly because I don’t have feelings. 

Even more I’m not the type to go around telling people that I cried.

The reason for my emotional episodes is the death of Adam ‘MCA’ Yauch of the Beastie Boys. I am not the sort of person to be too bothered by the deaths of celebrities. I can only remember one other celebrity death that really affected me (Elliott Smith, if you’re interested).

However, The Beastie Boys have a special meaning for me. Not only are they one of the best bands I have seen live but if it were not for them, my music tastes would be extremely narrow.

The first Beastie Boys song I heard was Sabotage on MTV when MTV used to actually play music. Not only did it have a kick arse video, but it combined rock and rap in a way that I hadn’t thought possible. Until that point I would pretty much refuse to listen to anything that was not rock music.

My tastes were extremely narrow and I was very close minded. After hearing Sabotage, I managed to find a copy of Some Old Bullshit in our local library which I took out and then somehow I acquired Ill Communication on tape shortly after (I think it might have been left in one of my dad’s company cars).

From that point on, I was hooked. Whenever I would get into a conversation about who the best rapper on the planet is, while others reel out Dre or whoever, I would list my favourites as Ad Rock, MCA and Mike D (followed later by Mos Def and Snoop) . This always seemed to shock people but I still maintain that they’re the best I’ve heard. Anyway, that’s probably a discussion for another time.

The Beasties have such a diverse back catalgoue, jumping from style to style effortlessly and at the same time brilliantly. Without them, I’d probably still be listening to Guns ‘n’ Roses and Def Leppard.

Whilst I get annoyed at mass ourpouring of grief over celebrity deaths, I don’t feel  hypocritical at crying at the death of one of the men who widened my horizons and probably had more of an impact on my musical tastes than anyone else.

I am still ashamed of crying on Saturday though, as it was when I was watching the Coldplay cover of ‘Fight For Your Right To Party.’ I hate Coldplay. With a passion. The fact that it got to me emotionally made me realise I must be getting old and liking old people music. Where has my youth gone? It’s enough to make a man cry.