- 19 Apr 01
The Beastie Boys go Intergalactic on Planet Galway. Transmission: Peter Murphy
I’M TIRED, wired and I smell bad. The occasion is The Big Day Out, the location is backstage at the Castlegar Sports grounds in Galway. I’m here to interview The Beastie Boys, still reeling from the shock of having my deodorant confiscated by security (“No aerosols,” the gatekeeper grinned, tossing the offending can in a rapidly-filling sack). Hello nasty, indeed.
With no marquee for liggers, there’s a famine of passes and the backstage area’s harder to penetrate than a week-old corpse. However, the few who do manage gain access to the fabled all-areas are remarkably free to jostle with the Jarvises, Shirleys and, er, BP Fallons of this world. Nice work if you can get it, even if you are anxiously awaiting a summons from the three free kings of New York.
Several hours earlier, the Beastie Boys had slayed ’em in the trenches, impervious to insistent Connacht drizzle. Contrary to the opinion of The Irish Times reviewer – who, if his piece the following day was anything to go by, must have attended a different gig to the rest of us – it was The Beasties’ show in all but name.