Working
at Sound & Vision, we sometimes wonder if the artists who make
the music and movies we play on our tweaked-out systems have the same
gear fetish we do. When we heard that the Beastie Boys' Adam Yauch had
asked the prestigious Criterion DVD label to work with him on a collection
of the trio's music videos, we suspected he might be a kindred spirit.
A posting on the Criterion Web site, suggesting that The Beastie Boys
DVD Anthology would go where no music DVD had gone before in flexing
the format's potential for delivering multiple video angles and audio
tracks, only reinforced our suspicion. And when Adam requested ahead of
time that we use a progressive-scan DVD player when he came by to screen
the discs for us, we knew for sure that he was the real deal.
Starting out as a punk band, the Beastie Boys achieved fame in 1986 with their rap-influenced debut album, Licensed to Ill, whose paeans to booze and babes became MTV and FM-radio staples. During the ensuing decade, both the band's sound and its social consciousness made evolutionary leaps. This is reflected in the Anthology's focus on post-Licensed to Ill videos as well as the disc space devoted to organizations that promote the cause of Tibetan independence. Rather than create a complete catalog of its video output, the band is instead offering a feature-filled sampling of its tastier tracks. (Frat brats will lament that the Boys' breakthrough hit, "Fight for Your Right [To Party]," didn't make the cut.) And given the Beasties' penchant for putting out raw, funny, conceptually unique videos, there's a lot here to chew on.
Main Menu
The
screening took place at our midtown Manhattan testing facility. Adam had
come by with the discs because he was curious to screen the Anthology
on S&V's reference rig, which consists of a Runco DTV-991 front
projector with a 16:9 Da-Lite CinemaVision screen, a Faroudja VP301 video
processor, a Sunfire Theater Grand II digital surround processor, a five-pack
of Krell 250M monoblock amplifiers, and a B&W Nautilus speaker system.
As he introduced himself to me, features editor Mike Gaughn, and S&V
contributor Matt Zoller Seitz, Adam mentioned that bandmate Mike Diamond
might show up. (Mike D was apparently suffering from a bad case of Video
Projector Envy, having experienced Adam's own home theater system.) This
was good news, two Beasties being better than one.
Schematic Overview
Adam's request for a progressive-scan DVD player had cued us to his advanced
state of A/V enlightenment — though ironically, since the Faroudja
processor produced a superior picture with our projector, we ended up
not using one. Further discussion of player lip-sync problems and other
videophile esoterica drove home that we were dealing with someone who
had this DVD stuff down cold.
The two-disc Anthology offers each of the 18 music videos under two headings, "Videos in Sequence" and "Videos with Supplements." Selecting a title from the first category gives you the video straight up, though with the options of hearing the Dolby Digital 5.1-channel surround mix, the two-channel mix, or a commentary from either the band or the director. Choose from the second category, and you can call up a wealth of supplementary material from the DVD's menu, including still images, audio remixes (in stereo) by artists like Fatboy Slim and Moby, and multiple "angles," which are often, in effect, different versions of the video. You can also switch tracks on the fly by pressing the audio or angle button on your DVD player's remote control.
Given the sheer structural complexity of the discs, we felt compelled to ask Adam if he'd been inspired by any other recent DVD releases, like Metallica's Cunning Stunts. His answer was an unabashed no: "I haven't watched any. Actually, someone gave me the Metallica and told me I should check out the alternate angles, but I never looked at it, and it's still sitting on my shelf."
From left: writers Al Griffin and Matt Seitz,
S&V features editor Mike Gaughn, Beastie Boy Adam Yauch |
The Beastie Boys DVD Anthology proved to be the most intriguing music DVD any of us had seen. Among its many attributes is a hip-looking menu design that makes use of Battlestar Galactica-like wire-frame space pods. "It has that late 1970s sci-fi look," Matt commented approvingly.
Although each of the set's 18 videos was remixed for surround sound, Adam was pretty humble when discussing the 5.1-channel soundtrack. "For most of the videos," he said, "we were basically taking the existing stereo mix and sorta augmenting it for a 5.1 mix. On some things, we edited the kick drums so that the bass [low-frequency-effects] channel would be totally clean without other instruments . . . which worked out nicely."
A more ambitious 5.1 mix was produced for the mini epic The Robot vs. the Octopus Monster Saga, which you can select as an alternate version of the "Intergalactic" video. "The one thing we really worked hard on for the 5.1 mix," Adam said, "was the long version of 'Intergalactic.' I went to a friend who works at C5 [an audio production studio], and he did a lot of sound editing and foley work. We cut a 9-minute version of the video and mixed it for 5.1 channels."
The Robot vs. the Octopus
We
kick off our screening with the band's homage to Japanese monster movies,
switching the projector to letterboxed mode to accommodate the 1.85:1
image. The 5.1 mix uses excerpts from Schoenberg's atonal Variations for
Orchestra combined with a generous dose of effects, which really spice
things up. When the robot works his break-dance moves in the center of
the cardboard-cutout Tokyo, his footfalls have a gut-grabbing dynamic
impact. At Adam's suggestion, we also watch the video with its effects-only
alternate audio track, which allows us to take in the T2-style
mix. As an audio accompaniment to the stumbling movements of guys in cheap-looking
costumes, it's quite a hoot.
So Wat'cha Want
"So
Wat'cha Want" is a favorite video of mine, and I ask Adam about the grungy
'80s-style keying effect, which seems a prime example of the Beastie Boys'
iconoclastic visual style. When this video first aired, in 1992, many
directors were adopting slick production values that made their videos
indistinguishable from the commercials they were sandwiched between. In
contrast, "So Wat'cha Want" seems more like a throwback to MTV's commercial-free
days, when directors were having fun with the medium.
But
Adam's explanation of what the band was trying to achieve turns my theoretical
context on its head. "There's this movie Wolfen with the point
of view of a werewolf, and it's this weird thing where the night sky turns
to daylight. It's a cheesy effect, and I like how it looked." We switch
over to watching one of the alternate video tracks, a little something
called Thermal Cam that paints the band in the orange, yellow, and pink
hues of a solar flare. As far as alternate "angles" go, this one suggests
a previously unexplored psychedelic side to the Beasties' music.
Alive
Adam requests that we switch over to "Alive" and explore
its large selection of alternate tracks. With nine video and seven
audio options to choose from, you could kill a whole afternoon sorting
through all the combinations. I'm intrigued by the title of one
of the alternate video tracks: "Dubuffet." Adam explains that it
refers to the artist who built the public sculpture that the Beasties
used as one of the video's shoot-and-run backgrounds. (The band
apparently has a bad habit of filming in public spaces without getting
permits.)
We
choose the video's Moby audio remix and take in the concoction that results:
three guys in brightly colored pajamas bouncing around a sculpture by
a guy who sought inspiration in the art of mental patients. Moby's remix
of the song is a far cry from the album version — smooth, playful,
and considerably more melodic. The arrangement nicely complements the
Boys' fuzzy costumes, which Adam, a new dad at the time, explains on the
commentary were inspired by the Sesame Street character Elmo.
Gratitude (Live Version)
When we ask Adam which of the director's commentaries is his favorite,
he leads us to the one on the live version of "Gratitude" —
which turns out to be no ordinary commentary. In what essentially
amounts to a crank phone call, a Criterion producer leads director
Ari Marcropoulos through an absurd conversation about everything
from recurring barn-raising motifs in Beastie Boys videos (not surprisingly,
Marcropoulos has little to say about this subject) to the pleasures
of Internet chat rooms.
Next, Adam suggests we check out the alternate Oscilloscope Angle. As the name suggests, the visuals here are pretty minimal: a continuous close-up of patterns on a test instrument's display screen generated by the sound waves of the music. This one won't be making the MTV rotation anytime soon.
Sabotage
After
our meditations on the Oscilloscope Angle, we're prepared for something
more upbeat. And what could be more uplifting than the Spike Jonze-directed
"Sabotage"? But before we move to the video itself — a parody of
'70s cop-show intros — we view a supplement titled Ciao L.A.
that features the Boys in "Sabotage" persona discussing topics like menswear,
machismo, and alien abduction. Everyone's laughing pretty hard when Mike
Diamond walks through the video lab's door.
We were especially pleased that Mike D was able to join us considering his recent cycling accident — which forced the band to postpone and ultimately cancel an upcoming tour with Rage Against the Machine. All we needed to complete the picture was the third Beastie, Adam Horovitz, but the band's publicist said he was otherwise engaged.
I
ask Mike D if he's seen the Anthology yet. "I've played with it
. . . but I cannot claim that I've gone through all the options
and facilities, uh, contained therewithin." As we watch "Sabotage,"
Adam says that they originally shot about 15 to 20 hours of footage. "Enough
for an entire season of a cop show," quips Matt. As it turns out, he isn't
all that far off the mark. "We put together these little vignettes," says
Adam, "because the idea was that on the intro for a cop show, they're
taking pieces from the series and putting them together."
Retrieving all of the original footage from the Capitol Records vault allowed Adam to edit together the vignettes as alternate video tracks called "Sir Stewart's Folly," "Knife Fight/Trainyard," and "Raid on the Mob/Angry Chief." We decide to watch "Knife Fight/Trainyard," which features a hilarious dragged-out duel between cop and thug that culminates with a dummy being tossed off a bridge. I'm impressed by how the video captures the reddish-brown hue of 1970s film stock, an effect Mike D suggests was achieved in postproduction.
Netty's Girl
Through a slip of the remote control, we stumble onto this oddity —
a kind of disturbed Sunday outing on a lake in L.A.'s Echo Park. But since
the star of the show is Mike D, we decide to watch on. The video's image
quality and audio are deliberately lo-fi. "I don't think this one really
shows off the surround sound," Mike D offers.
After taking in the track's home-video aura for a spell, Matt opines, "You guys don't really like things that are slick. Things that other people would consider mistakes become part of the texture — like people looking at the camera, lens flares, that kind of stuff." Mike D agrees: "Yeah, musically, too. That's kind of how we work . . . it's like accidents will get edited together."
When Matt mentions having heard a Beastie Boys song on CD that had the distinctly scratchy sound of vinyl running under it, Adam lights up: "If you mean 'Root Down,' that's a loop of a record, and it probably really is dust on the vinyl." Looking up at the screen, he continues, "This one, 'Netty's Girl,' was recorded on four-track cassette."
"With a Sony karaoke mike," adds Mike D. The idea of high-profile musicians like the Beastie Boys recording with karaoke-grade equipment makes us all laugh.
When
Adam asks Mike D if there's something on the disc that he'd like to watch,
he suggests we check out the subtitle feature. Available from the disc's
audio submenu, the feature superimposes English subtitles every time a
Beastie Boy opens his mouth. If you've ever been unable to follow the
band's lyrics, or are simply hard of hearing, this is your big opportunity
to get their message. (Six of the videos also have a cappella versions
of the vocal tracks.)
Final Vinyl
Eager
to hear what they sound like on a first-rate rig, Adam has brought along
the test pressings for the new vinyl edition of the band's Sounds of
Science CD anthology, so we wind down our session with some audio-only
listening. (The band's Web site said this deluxe collection, scheduled
for fall release, would come with "extra beautiful packaging.") Our analog
front end consists of an Immedia RPM-1 turntable and tonearm, a Lyra Lydian
Beta phono cartridge, and a Herron Audio VTPH-1 phono preamp. (Props go
out to S&V contributor Frank Doris for his expert setup
of this sophisticated turntable.)
Adam approaches the turntable with vinyl in hand and flops the disc on the platter. Matt asks Mike D if the Beastie Boys are vinyl enthusiasts. "We definitely grew up buying records. It was actually a year after Licensed to Ill came out that they put it on CD. It still sounds wrong to us when we listen because of the way it was mastered. [Producer] Rick Rubin pushed to brighten the mix excessively, having in mind people with shitty turntables — and especially cassette players, where the high-end loss would be extreme." Adam adds, "When your hear it on the original CD, it doesn't sound right. But we corrected it on the CD anthology."
Switching to vinyl after exploring the high-tech world of DVD seems kind of retro, but it makes sense in the context of the Beastie Boys' universe. The band has always mixed the old with the new, channeling the energy from that intersection into unique recordings and music videos. As a summation of their work up to this point, The Beastie Boys DVD Anthology is as definitive a document as any fan could hope for. But it's also an incredibly fun set of discs to watch — one that pushes the limits of the DVD medium.
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ANTHOLOGY
HIGHLIGHTS
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THE BEAUTY OF BEASTIES
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Sometimes artists go their whole careers without discovering the perfect medium to realize their vision. With the release of Criterion's The Beastie Boys DVD Anthology, the self-described "goatee metal rap" band wins the right to shout, "Eureka!" DVD is the greatest medium yet devised for capturing the free-associative randomness of the artistic process. It just so happens that the Beastie Boys have devoted most of their career to exploring that process and capturing its twists and turns on film and vinyl. One could say this band is all about the process. Arguably the most overtly postmodern pop group of the '80s and '90s, the Beastie Boys let the seams show and frequently turn "mistakes" into marvelous jokes. The helicopter shot that opens "Gratitude" shows the band setting up on a New Zealand beach surrounded by a length of circular track that will carry the camera around them in the next shot. In the grainy, bleached-out "Sabotage," seemingly shot on 16mm stock that had been moldering in someone's basement since 1973, a stock image of a car blowing up is emblazoned with the warning, "For Screening Purposes Only." Watching the videos in this collection and fiddling with the supplements, you feel you've been granted direct access to the contents of the Beasties' crazed, prankish imaginations. This two-disc set might as well have been titled Check Our Heads. Every piece of art, music, and entertainment detritus that tickled the Boys' imaginations is granted a place of honor, including blaxploitation and disco ("Hey Ladies"), TV-news war coverage ("Something's Got to Give"), New York hip-hop culture in the late '70s and early '80s (the magnificent, split-screened "Root Down"), spy and caper movies ("Body Movin' "), and skateboarding (references too numerous to list). All the videos are united by the joyous fake-shabbiness of the production values. Though the record label clearly poured money into many of the clips — particularly "Intergalactic," with its pop-locking robot warrior and location footage of Japan — the Boys throw in touches that suggest they're still precocious New York media brats making el cheapo home-video projects in the early '80s, when both camcorders and mustaches were enormous. (Fake hair is another recurring motif in the band's career. The Beastie Boys probably own more wigs than Dolly Parton.) Beneath the images' wildness is a muted strain of nostalgia for a New York (and a New York childhood and adolescence) that's long gone — a mad, colorful universe of break-dance contests, Foghat 8-tracks, and light-up disco dance floors, college radio shows and graffiti-spattered subway trains, Grandmaster Flash and Kool Moe Dee and The Taking of Pelham One Two Three. You don't have to be a fan of rap or rock to enjoy this collection. You need only appreciate creativity and playfulness. And wigs. — Matt Zoller Seitz |
(Originally published in: Sound & Vision, Dececember
2000)