R.I.P. Adam Yaunch (a.k.a. MCA) Of Beastie Boys

Shit, man. 47 years old. That's younger than both of my parents. Fucking cancer.

Not that I was a huge Beastie Boys fan - their records left me lukewarm (apart from Paul's Boutique, which I liked a lot, I'd usually just go for 3 to 5 songs per record), and their 1998 concert at the Molson Centre was disappointing to say the least. But still.. I thought Adam Yaunch was going to beat this thing, because he can't, he won't, he don't stop.

His band's videos will live on forever, as does his participation in the mid-to-late-90s Free Tibet movement.

Video Of The Week: Beastie Boys

I'm really not a fan of the Beastie Boys. As musicians, they don't really hold a candle to either punk greats or jazz commoners, and as lyricists and rappers, while their flow reminds us of early-80s Brooklyn greats, they too often fail to achieve the level of intellectual stimuli their forefathers brought to the table. In my humble opinion, of course.

And I will admit there are a few exceptions to that, namely Sabotage and Intergalactic. But seeing them live in 1998 was one of the worst live show experiences I've ever had.

However, whether it's for their best singles or their so-so ones, one thing remains a Sure Shot: their videos will fucking rule. Another fine example is this one, Make Some Noise, which features a list of guest celebrities a mile long. How many can you name?

New Adventures In Lo-Fi

Today, I'm a zen fucking master. Like a one-day resolution of sorts.

I've been in the exact same spot for the past 12 hours now, sitting in front of a computer, with 3 hours left, and it's time to make the most of it, and the only way to do so is to let go of the world outside these four walls.

There is no time (6:30 PM), no date (January 5th, 2010), no weather (metres of snow! freezing cold!), no neighbours (downtown!), no circumstances (work!) to take me away from my goal.

Yet I don't know what my goal is. But I won't let that stop me. I can't.

I'm resilient. I also just realized I'm like a Beastie Boy: I can go 4 paragraphs without actually saying anything.

People talk to me, trying to steer me away from my goal, but I won't let them; I answer their queries hoping it might clue me in as to where I'm going, but it's always just a dirty path that ends as soon as it turns away from the highway. So onwards I continue, on the road to finding out what I'm heading towards.

It could be a wall, for all I know, but my brakes are new and I'm not speeding anyhow - had 3 cans of Pepsi to wake myself up, but nothing else 'cause I'd like to sleep tonight.

I'm in need of another week in Cuba, for new adventures in lo-fi; I'd settle for a week in Florida, if need be. Relaxing, beach-side, no care in the whole damn world even if only for a limited time... in the company of people who want to be in the vicinity - far from everyone else.

And the stories would write themselves.