IT’S more than three decades since the the band first hit the scene, all teenage angst and threatening to “fight for the right to party”.
Now they are back with their much-delayed eighth studio album, due in the main to Adam ‘MCA’ Yauch’s cancer scare.
Still as credible as they were back then, this takes you straight back to the days when kids carried around dance mats and ghetto blasters and risked serious injury by spinning on their heads.
Unashamedly retro in its style, Hot Sauce is refreshingly different to today’s rap offerings and not a single mention of hoes, bitches or dollars.
If this is what they are capable of while in their 40s, I can’t wait for the Beastie Boys to hit the half-century.
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