You say what?

Still fighting for their right to be heard, Beastie Boys roundtable gets awkward

By Katy Henriksen
Published: August 27th, 2007 | 4:15pm

August 10, 2007, Manhattan — I’m just not so sure about the state of music journalism today. Salacious stories like Arctic Monkey Alex Turner’s sexy texts to Lily Allen and her public mockery of them — as first reported in the U.K. tabloid The Mirror — proliferate. Bloggers write a sentence or two about a concert, and then post a horde of video clips and photos, without ever having to really say anything concrete about the music they profess to celebrate. Is this the future of music journalism? If so, I don’t like it.

But wait, there in the midst of creative adverbs and clever comparisons that make up the gamut of indie music PR was a personal e-mail from the Beastie Boys’ publicist. She’d invited me to a good old-fashioned press conference with the fabled NYC trio, scheduled just prior to their sold-out August 10, 2007, Hammerstein Ballroom Gala event. “Basically we're inviting a small handful of journalists in each major city to sit at a roundtable with all three members for approximately 25 to 30 minutes,” she said. How could I turn down the chance to get up close and personal with the playfully innovative band that mixed hip-hop with punk and that I’d been listening to since middle school?

Armed with my Olympus digital recorder, pen, and notebook — and not at all sure what to expect — I took the elevator to the posh fourth floor of the Soho House. The small theater was already pretty crowded with young music reporters from across the city, so I took a seat near the back in one of the cushy, black leather seats and wondered to myself about from where all these comrades had appeared. There must have been 40 to 50 of us. I’d never been stuck in a room with so many of my colleagues and was curious about the questions they’d be putting forth.

Though I’ve interviewed many a musician, this was the first time I’d been invited to participate in a formal press conference and, truth be told, I was relieved it wasn’t actually a round table made up of only a handful of journalists and the venerable MCA, Ad-Rock, and Mike D. I hadn’t done nearly enough research to engage them with satisfying questions. I would just be picking up some quotes from those who had.

Donning dapper 1950s suits, the boys sat down at a table onstage and proceeded to call on raised hands to discuss their latest all-instrumental release, The Mix-Up, and the accompanying album-themed gala events for which they request guests attend in suits and ball gowns (and absolutely no cargo shorts) as they perform the entire album.

I definitely concur on the cargo shorts and was entertained by the interplay between the gents as they answered each and every question anyone of us asked. And by anyone, I mean someone else, of course, as I was toward the back and knew that I’d just start stuttering if Mike D looked straight into my eyes and called on me.

However, it was immediately apparent that some of my contemporaries were less prepared than I was. “Are you always dressed in suits now?” someone asked. A quick Google News search would’ve brought up at least a dozen stories that chronicled the Beastie Boys’ transformation from street wear to classy formal wear. They started the dress code as a work requirement while recording The Mix-Up at their Canal Street studio and have been donning the vintage suits for all their gala events.

But just as I was about to hightail outta there so that the Beasties wouldn’t recognize me as one of those lowly music journalists who hadn’t done even the slightest of homework, things became even more awkward — entertainingly so — when another person asked, “Since really the only other white rapper who became big was Eminem, do you feel special about that, or do you feel disappointed that more white people didn’t follow in your footsteps?”

MCA immediately responded with, “I’m not trying to call you out here, well. Well, maybe I am ...” and proceeded to make complaints about the question, which the Beasties then playfully turned into a discussion of Marky Mark.

Such questions just kept on coming: “Do you still feel the need to fight for your right to party?” Again MCA responded, this time by directing a question back to the asker: “Do you still feel the need to ask that question?” The journalist responded by saying, “I had a friend who requested I ask that.”

Uncomfortable, yes, but undeniably entertaining, and I began to realize why musicians cringe at the thought of giving any sort of interview. I would too if these were the questions I was asked. To the Beastie Boys’ credit, they tried as best as possible to be amicable, even though so many music writers failed to ask questions regarding what the Beasties are all about: constructing kick-ass music.

Collectively we’d just plundered our chance for great quotes from a veteran act and the experience only confirmed my worst fears. It seems we’re losing the ability to ask critical questions about the music we profess to cover. Although in-depth reportage still exists, the world of the blogosphere and user-generated content is swiftly encroaching. That’s a shame, because musicians are still creating so many interesting things. And I, for one, want to hear what they have to say about it.