Seattle Post-Intelligencer, June 5, 1992
By Gene Stout:
What has horns, fangs and truckloads of ghoulish props? When the Beastie Boys made its Seattle debut in 1985--opening Madonna's first concert tour at the Paramount Theatre--the band didn't look so good. In fact, the entire act was a whistling bomb of whiny wimps that landed with a thud and brought of boos from the crowd. The Beasties were a joke.

Hey, better luck next time. The Beasties' 1987 debut album, Licensed to Ill, sold more than 4 million copies, and "(You've Got to) Fight for Your Right to Party"--a catchy rap/metal tune that introduced rap to mainstream hard-rock fans--became a teenage anthem. The trio of boyhood chums returned to Seattle as celebrities.

The group's 1989 followup album, Paul's Boutique, was an intriguing blend of styles but a commercial disappointment. People were beginning to think of the Beasties in the past tense. Rappin' today, gone tomorrow.

Then lightning struck twice. The Beastie Boys' current disc, Check Your Head, is zooming up the charts. After just five weeks, the record has reached No. 18 on The Billboard 200 album chart with a mongrel, multicultural blend of rap, funk, punk, jazz and blues styles emphasizing instrumentals instead of vocals. It's a gloriously imperfect album recorded at the Beasties' own L.A. studio during a year-long series of jam sessions.

The Beasties--Mike D, King Ad-Rock and MCA, plus DJ Hurricane--brings its latest platter of musical hors d'oeuvres to the Moore Theater Monday night at 8. Opening acts are Big Chief, a thundering grunge band from Ann Arbor, Mich., and FU-Schnickens, a Brooklyn rap trio named for the phrase "for unity" (hence, "FU") and a made-up term for brotherhood. The group's humorous, verbally acrobatic raps can be nonsensical: "I'll be a brave man like Captain Caveman/ Unga bunga, yapple dapple, holy batfu, it's an apple ..." The group's current album is "F.U. - Don't Take It Personal."

The Seattle Times, June 9, 1992
By Tom Phalen:
The Beastie Boys, with Big Chief and Fu Schnickens, last night at the Moore Theatre.

When the Beastie Boys finally appeared at 10:20 p.m. last night-- word was they wouldn't come on until a blown spot was replaced--the capacity audience roared. They had waited a long time in the hot, crowded theater. They wanted to dance and mosh and dive and jump and basically fight for their right to party. And when the band kicked off, that's exactly what it seemed would happen.

But it never really did. It tried, but it tripped. It was a show of moments without momentum. The start was great. The Beasties bounced across the stage like Jerry Lewis-kangaroo mutations, slinkies on STP. Constant, nonstop piston-pumping energy, bellowing out high-velocity versions of "Shake Your Rump" and "Pass the Mic" while DJ Hurricane scratched out body-blow background tracks, all bass boom and face slap. The Beasties hit the edge of the stage and got directly into the faces of those long-waiting watchers, slapping hands, dousing them with bottled water. Then they stopped and put on their instruments and thrashed for awhile. There was a collective "Huh?" Maybe some of that was from those unfamiliar with the band's new album Check Your Head and its rap-mixed-by-Nuge direction, The Beastie Boys actually playing. Perhaps some had heard the album and couldn't believe it was the same band. Whichever, things ground down.

No one said The Beastie Boys were ace players, and that's good because they aren't. And when they get rolling, that lack of musicianship doesn't matter. Hammering noise out of electronic instruments can in and of itself be a good thing. There were some rugged yet dazzling moments. But often as not it seemed a novelty that got in the way of the groove. Just when the rap was right, the instruments came back, and the mood was over. There were more than a few in the house expressing their displeasure.

The band played almost everything expected from its three albums, License to Ill, Paul's Boutique and Check Your Head. At its best, it was inspired lunacy, monstrous hip hop, words and rhymes and rhythms flying like electric bats, brilliant sky diving interplay without collision. "Finger Lickin' Good," "So Whatcha Want" and the moody "Lighten Up" were genuine highlights. But in the end, it was an evening of arrested development. The one song that might have pulled it all together, the expected anthem encore, "(You've Got to) Fight For Your Right to Party," never appeared. And by the end of the show, no one seemed to much care. Perhaps the Beasties ran out of time, perhaps they just don't like that song anymore. Perhaps they haven't gotten around to learning how to play it. They should.