Albums: Beastie Boys Aglio E Olio (Grand Royal GR 026)

Andy Gill
Friday 06 March 1998 00:02 GMT
Comments

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

BEASTIE BOYS

Aglio E Olio (Grand Royal GR 026)

The great thing about owning your own label is that you can release any old rubbish you like, which is effectively what the Beasties have done here. The slight compensation is the record's merciful brevity: its eight tracks are crammed into 11 of your earth minutes, though they help corroborate Einstein's views on the elasticity of time by seeming to stretch out for an eternity.

Originally released in America in 1995, Aglio E Olio is basically the Beasties' Valentine to punk, a short parade of miniature guitar thrashes like "Deal With It", on which the only discernible lyric is the title. They start, shout, stop and start again, with minimal change from track to track, apart from the bit at the end of "Deal With It" where it all collapses into 30 seconds of the most hideous guitar soloing in rock history, or the little jazzy drum groove they absent-mindedly slip into at the conclusion of "Believe Me", which only serves to make you yearn for a little of the funk and coherence of Ill Communication. It may only cost a fiver, but you'd be mad to spend it on this rather than the Fat Possum compilation, which has bucketloads of real punk spirit to spare.

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in