Every Beastie Boys album since 1987 has had instrumental wigouts, and by that we mean tracks without the usual amazingly danceable samples and rapping. They’ve even already released a compilation of jazzier cuts (The In Sound From Way Out), so the surprise with which some quarters have greeted this noodling, lyricfree seventh album is baffling.
What is surprising is just how lightweight it sounds. Nothing here warrants more than a sly nod, doffing the cap to a band doing what they do other than rapping, but never, ever as good as their rapping. Electric Worm and Off The Grid wobble from the sound system in much the same way as earlier numbers Pow! or Lighten Up did. It’s assuredly played and competent, but what made these tracks work on Ill Communication and especially Hello Nasty was their juxtaposition with smarter, more agile electronically engineered numbers (and that’s not even 100 per cent true, as Sabotage, one of the trio’s greatest singles, was played live, in just one chord).
The Mix Up may have more longevity than no-brain punk minialbums like 1998’s Aglio E Olio, but the studied, meandering nature lets it down. It’s cool to experiment, but this is hardly thinking outside the box.
