this is not pitchfork

The 20th anniversary of this album? Really? Excuse me while I go cry into my Metamucil.

The anticipation for this album was pretty high. After License to Ill made the Beasties a household name – and the album de rigueur at college parties everywhere – fans of the record were looking for another just like it. Yes, more misogyny, more metal guitar infused rap, more songs to sing that would make your mother blush.

Man, were a lot of people disappointed. How you reacted to Paul’s Boutique determined if you would either be a fan of the Beastie Boys or just a fan of License to Ill.

Where License to Ill was a party, Paul’s Boutique was a solitary listen. Sure, the raunchy swaggering and fun times were still there, but musically this was 100 times better than License. There’s no Fight for Your Right here, no wailing guitars, no radio hit – and that’s a good thing. You don’t need a room full of people and a keg of beer to enjoy Paul’s Boutique. All you need is a pair of headphones and a couple of hours to try to pick out all the samples and references. The rhymes move so fast and the literary and pop culture references are so thick, you almost miss the fact that this album is fun.

This required about five listens in a row upon purchasing. Headphones on, by myself. On first listen I just appreciated the sonic wall of music that hit me. It was a surprise; I didn’t expect such complex beats and varied styles. I listened again to try to sort out the layers and textures. There was so much going on here it was like my mind could not grasp it all at once. It was thick, lush and full of surprises, like running your fingers through shag carpeting and finding the seeds and stems you dropped last week.

I spent hours listening trying to pick out the samples. There were the Beatles. That’s Zeppelin. Public Enemy. Elvis Costello. Curtis Mayfield. There were references to Dr. Seuss, Cheech and Chong, Die Hard and even Otis from the Andy Griffith Show. This wasn’t just an album, it was a musical version of those hidden picture puzzles from Highlight Magazine.

Paul’s Boutique is so perfectly crafted; it’s tight and loose at the same time, it’s beats and lyrics put together so perfectly and in so many different ways that you could listen to this five times in one day and it will never feel like the same album. Unlike License to Ill, this one stays fresh, always.

This album seemed so fresh when it came out. It was fun, it was clever, it was Cookypuss and Egg Raid on Mojo fleshed out and spread wide open. License to Ill was a party on vinyl; it required a crowd and a keg of beer and the feeling that you were old enough to get all the lyrical references and young enough to be stupid drunk while singing them. Which makes for a really good time, but makes your judgment of an album biased to the point of being suspect.

This is why it’s sometimes good to put the distance of years between you and an album you once thought was brilliant. Listening to License to Ill now almost makes me cringe; if not for the great memories I associate with it, I probably would have a more averse reaction to it. It’s definitely the weakest Beastie Boys effort in their catalog, and now, with the beer goggles removed, plays out like a very long frat boy joke without a punch line. Fight For Your Right comes off as contrived, The New Style and Rhymin and Stealin’ feel way too long, and lines like “He recognized my girlie from the back of her head,” just don’t stand the test of time. And I think that’s the fault of the Beastie Boys themselves. Paul’s Boutique and Check Your Head both proved what the Boys were capable of and – in hindsight – made License to Ill come off as a “let’s sing to the masses” album instead of a real artistic effort.

Favorite song: Despite all the above, there’s still something satisfying about singing No Sleep til Brooklyn.