Album Review: Beastie Boys, Hot Sauce Committee Part Two

Twenty years on and the Beastie Boys have lost none of their energy. Photo / AP

Slap this on in the car, turn it up to 11 and you're likely to find yourself back in the summer of 1989 with the window down, a sunburnt arm, and a sore throat from rapping along. So while that means the Beastie Boys' eighth album - and first vocal album in seven years - is exactly what you'd expect from the New York trio of Mike D, MCA, and Ad-Rock, they are also at their fun best. It's a hoot from start to finish with a fair bit of goofy posturing in between like, "Pass me the scalpel, I'll make an incision, cut off the part of your brain that does the bitchin'."

The bent and boppy cartoon beats of opening track Make Some Noise is signature Beastie Boys, and it sets a platform for what is also one of their most complete and clever records. It's up there with classics Paul's Boutique (1989) and Check Your Head (1992), even if it doesn't quite have the cheeky and ambitious bite of old.

The album was delayed for almost two years because MCA (real name Adam Yauch) was diagnosed with cancer of his salivary gland - but he's back into it and takes his huskiness to a higher level on tracks like the sloping and spacey Long Burn the Fire.

Elsewhere Nonstop Disco Powerpack is like a Beasties' take on the laid-back lope of the Stone Roses' Fools Gold, as it echoes, pads and postures along to the funky beat; the stealth Metal Mickey-meets-Afrika Bambaataa robotics of OK starts to intensify before the collaboration with Nas ushers in a more punishing and potent attack on Too Many Rappers, followed by the distorted and shouty banger Say It, which gives way to the skank and skip of Don't Play No Game That I Can't Win with lippy lass Santogold.

The stand out is Lee Majors Come Again - a song which first surfaced two years ago - and with its steely guitar squall they get back to their punk rock roots, and halfway through even lurch into a swampy Pixies groove.

The thing is, it all seems so effortless and the handful of interludes (the best of which is the deranged bleepy bop of Funky Donkey), and a lilting instrumental track like Multilateral Nuclear Disarmament, help create a beautifully seamless and entertaining album.

The Beastie Boys were always like savvy and lippy teenagers back when they were in their 20s heyday, and now, 20 years on they're still the oldest teenagers in the music game.

Stars: 4/5
Verdict: 40-something and still partying like it's 1989

-TimeOut