In the world of music, we expect boundaries to be extended. Our hunger for fresh sounds and absorbing content must be satisfied, whether by technological advancement or artistic endeavour. We don't expect a portal to a new universe of entertainment to suddenly snap shut behind us.
Which is effectively what happened when '70s singer/songwriter Gilbert O'Sullivan successfully sued rapper Biz Markie over the rights to a sample from O'Sullivan's hit Alone Again, Naturally.
The landmark decision paved the way for a whole new industry in the use of sampled material, outlawing indiscriminate plundering and making clearance a pricey pursuit.
In the wake of that decision lies a sample-heavy work that would probably bankrupt a project if it were to be attempted again: Beastie Boys' 1989 album Paul's Boutique didn't so much flesh out a hip-hop body over the skeleton of someone else's tune as totally dismember a busload of beloved songs, scatter the remains over the carpet and reassemble the pieces to create a magnum opus of Frankensteinian proportions.
The mad professors whose genius elevates the album above the level of whiny white-boy rap are the Dust Brothers - producers E.Z. Mike (Michael Simpson) and King Gizmo (John King). The dense layering of stonking beats with the bounty of their inspired thievery creates a dizzying maelstrom from which snatches of the instantly recognisable and the vaguely familiar emerge and retreat, teasing the listener into an irresistible game of spot the sample. Here's Bob Marley and there's Johnny Cash. Wasn't that the Ramones and isn't this the Meters?
And dammit, this awesome groove has to be the Isley Brothers!
The Beasties are also in playful mood. Having decided not to attempt to repeat thefrat-rap style of hugely successful 1986 debut Licensed To Ill, they step up to the challenge by stringing together some wickedly clever rhymes laced with similarly knowing references.
It's all great fun on this one-of-a-kind winner.
