The Boys Are Back In Town

HAVING DELAYED the start of their performance until those other beastie boys, Scotland, had been officially eliminated from the World Cup by a combination of their own footballing shortcomings and the mighty Morocco, the Beastie Boys proper emerge from the Brixton Academy wings, seemingly making a conscious effort to convince a packed house that, whatever about their sounds, the famous clothing line we're told kept their bread buttered when albums like Paul's Boutique sank like a stone has gone belly-up.

Attired in what appeared to be American prison issue day-glo orange boiler suits, Ad-Rock and MCA are first on, closely followed by Mike D, in a similar ensemble. Except it was white . . . with a cape. Or was it a shower curtain? Who knows?

Two tracks in, shortly after a rabble-rousing rendition of 'Time To Get Ill', the shower curtain is cast off, a testament to the stifling heat in the packed auditorium. The temperature is raised further by 'Super Disco Breakin', a razor-sharp cut from their latest offering Hello Nasty, at which point Mike D enquires if his audience knows what it's like to "get loose". It seems they do. Post haste, the six-string planks are produced and a good spanking is administered.

Sadly, it's the low point of an otherwise top night out. Although the Beasties are clearly enjoying themselves, one can't help but feel that watching three middle-class white boys attempting to beat the rap with some half-baked punk excursions is akin to watching Craig Burley and chums attempt to qualify for the second round of the World Cup - you know they could stay playing all night without ever quite managing to get it right.

A Ramones cover falls gloriously on its arse before Mixmaster Mike ("He can play any instrument but his favourite is the turntables"`- Mike D.) saves the day with 'Believe Me', 'Heart Attack Man' and 'Three MCs And One DJ', a return to form that's Fonzian in its smoothness.

Respite comes in the form of a shoe (no, really) that's hurled onstage. MCA spots it, approaches it, picks it up. What'll he do? Fill it with lighter fuel and ignite it? Drop-kick it back from whence it came? Eat it? Sadly, no. "Hey, some hippie threw a shoe up here! Does anyone want their shoe back?" he enquires of the heaving, sweating mass before him. Somewhat surreally, all present wait patiently as shoe and owner are reunited, no doubt reflecting that five albums on, the Beastie Boys appear to have finally grown up. Sort of.

Visually, the stage show is nothing if not impressive: an array of monitors dotted around the stage lend the occasion some sci-fi cool and while it works in the sweaty confines of Brixton Academy, one can only speculate as to how it will go down outdoors, early doors, at Galway's big day out.

The inevitable encore is supreme, with the show-stopping 'Sabotage' as its highlight, proving that, despite embracing some worthy but dull causes along the way, the Beastie Boys are still prepared to fight for their right to party. Rap 'n' roll!

• Barry Glendenning