Beastie Boys’ Michael Louis Diamond—better known as Mike D—sat down with Vulture for an in-depth, insightful and, at times, heartfelt interview earlier this week. The conversation goes in a lot of different directions, diving into various topics like fatherhood, cultural appropriation, the legacy of the Beastie Boys, the evolution of New York City, and Mike D’s search for meaning following the death of his friend and bandmate Adam Yauch (aka MCA).
It’s a truly eye-opening interview that covers a lot more ground than what’s alluded to in the headline for this article. Nevertheless, that exchange is rather hilarious, so let’s take a look.
Are you seeing the Beastie Boys’ influence anywhere in the culture these days?
It’s interesting, because there are so many things that I appreciate musically, but I don’t ever think of them as Oh wow, that’s like what we did. I just don’t see things through that lens. Something that always makes me cringe is when somebody says, “You gotta hear this. They’re like you guys.” That usually doesn’t end well.
Can you remember something you’ve been played that was supposed to sound like the Beastie Boys?
This is an old thing, but I remember seeing Dee Barnes at a club and she said, “You’ve gotta hear this new group, Cypress Hill. Cypress Hill’s self-titled 1991 debut shares similarities with the early Beastie Boys, notably the funky samples, manic energy, and, at times, adenoidal rapping. In 1992, Cypress Hill toured with the Beastie Boys, who were then promoting Check Your Head. There’s something about their voices that reminds me of you.” That’s kind of the best-case scenario.
What’s the worst-case scenario?
Not that it’s ever happened, but my fear would be that someone would be like, “311. You love those guys, right?” I’m sure they’re nice people — [their music] isn’t my cup of tea.
It’s an interesting fear, though it’s worth noting that both 311 and Cypress Hill started making music as units back in 1988—a whopping 30 years ago and a mere two years after the Beastie Boys released their debut album License To Ill. For Mike D’s thoughts on music’s more contemporary offerings, we have to go a little deeper into the interview to find another perceptive exchange about New Orleans rap duo $uicideboy$. Turns out Mike D isn’t a fan of the pair’s horrorcore style, and that’s exactly the way he wants it to be.
Given how important freedom and exposure were to who you became, do you worry about your kids missing out on those kinds of experiences? They’re growing up in a radically different environment than you did.
Obviously issues come up. There are teen-angst issues that are real. I have to constantly remind myself of how much anger I had at 15 years old for relatively little reason. I find myself interested in the different phases of music my kids have been into, from commercial rap like Kanye and Drake to the hardcore that I grew up on like Black Flag and Bad Brains. And then there’s getting into Slayer, Black Sabbath, Led Zeppelin—the emergent testosterone classics.
What’s interesting about those phases?
I kept asking myself why that music hasn’t been totally replaced. It was weird to me that I wasn’t hearing things that my kids related to that I couldn’t embrace. When they did hit on something, I was like, Finally!
What did it?
When they started listening to $uicideboy$. I was like, “That’s it. That checks the boxes.” It’s really loud, I can’t really relate, I don’t really want to listen to it. I understand exactly why it’s good and I see exactly the music it’s combining, but I don’t need to participate and I’m good with that.
Those are few of the tidbits of wisdom and self-reflection to be found in Vulture’s conversation with Mike D (read the full interview here). As the interview notes, the rapper and his fellow Beastie Boy Adam Horovitz—better known as Ad-Rock—are currently working on a memoir that expected to be released in fall of 2018.