Energy, funk, and fun. From the first rippin' scratches of MixMaster Mike to the garage-band sounding Sabotage closer, the Beastie Boys were playing vintage ball tonight.

I had some concerns that geriatric hip-hop might not satisfy, but these guys are beyond performing, they ARE. Running around stage like a bunch of teenagers, there was nothing about the Boys that belied their age, only things that confirmed their status as hip-hop legends. Think about it: these guys have been rappin and rhyming for the last 20 years -- from rap nacency to mainstream boo-yah -- they've outlasted just about everybody, and they can still kick down a funky-ass show that'll leaving you smiling for days.

The whole scene had a positive, festive, truly joyful vibe that I haven't felt at a concert since my first Dead show at Laguna Seca in 1988. Everybody was laughing and smiling and feeling the love. Cruising the Erwin Center before the show, JB and I had a great time checking out all the costumes and kitsch that were on display. Lot's of vintage 70s stuff like polyester suits, collared OP and Hang Ten shirts, and Janet Jackson Good Times caps, as well as other fun stuff like three guys in orange jumpsuits, a semi full of trucker hats, a 1950s era repro Cleveland Steamers baseball jersey, and lots of cool tee-shirts like the ones that read "Nixon in '78", "Fuck Bush", and "Grass." Our type of crowd.

The Boys were preceded onstage by a troupe of stunt dogs and journeyman rapper Talib Kweli. Talib looked good up there on stage with just his DJ, but as I feared, the hip-hop sound doesn't perfectly translate to the sound systems of large arenas and his lyrics were mostly inaudible. His rhymes had good meter though. The crowd was giving respect, but Talib could have been the second coming of Tone Loc and it wouldn't have mattered -- the crowd was just waiting to burst for the B-Boys.

The crowd was loving it	Stripped down old school	...radar detector to tell me where the cops is

Busting on a completely stripped down stage in Oakland A's green and yellow colored 70s-style track suits, the shit was on. There were no dancing girls, no set props, no bling-bling; the dancing was completely unchoreographed, relaxed, and unpretentious; and there was lots of goofy mugging, posing, and pointing done in good fun. At one point, someone in the crowd threw a basketball onstage and all three effortlessly dribbled and passed it around while they rapped. It was like hanging out with three guys at the lake, dancing around, listening to pumping jams, and feeling that last six pack go to your head under the hot sun.

They oozed cool, an attitude borne of comfort and self-confidence -- no crotch grabbing or strings of bitch-laden expletives. They ain't gangstas or high school kids from the OC pullin' a Malibu's Most Wanted, these goofballs are some cool cats that know their business. They are time-tested hip-hop old school.

The Beastie Boys made their bones with creative, clever lyrics and hard rockin' beats, and they did not disappoint tonight. They played about 10 songs with MMM then left him onstage to entertain while they regressed to their musical roots, rolling back onstage aboard a tiny sliding platform outfitted as a country club bandstand with wood lattice work and strands of little lantern-shaped lights. The band, including a keyboardist and a percussionist that looked like the Doritos guy from the 70s were decked out in gray velour tuxes with ruffled shirts and black bow ties. Playing their instruments for about eight or nine songs, including "Flute Loop" and "Something's Got to Give", the Boys were impressively ragged and powerful, incorporating wacked out, gratuitous use of the wah-wah pedal that would have made garage legends Liquid Tongue proud. It was rough and raw, but it was core stuff that had you doing the Jerry Lewis and banging your head at the same time. Totally over the top use of vocal effects and percussion instruments added to the orgyistic gluttony of the sound. And the crowd sucked up it up like Dave Chapelle hittin' a Rohr.

Coming back from another MixMaster interlude wearing navy pants and orange tee-shirts with numbers on the back and individualized slogans on the front, the crew never missed a beat. Mike D, MCA, and KingAdRock kept the crowd pumped and pumping with bedrock hip-hop audience callouts and imperative favorites like "What Ya' Want" and "High Plains Drifter". The crowd didn't need much encouragement. At one point -- and I have to admit, I can't remember the song -- MixMaster Mike set up a beat, and without saying a word Mike D held the microphone out to crowd, which came in right on time with the first line of the song and ended up singing the entire song without the Boys singing any part of it. The guys were amused.

Even when it was over, it wasn't over. They played a five-song encore, including an MC-driven Intergalactic and a song performed in the arms of the crowd in the upper deck. The last three songs of the concert, played from the bandstand, sounded like the funkiest garage band you ever heard. KingAdRock dedicated the final song to Dubya -- listen all y'all, it's a Sabotage!

Racking up a few more chits, the fellas didn't feel compelled to force-feed us the new album. I haven't actually listened to it, but I have heard that's it kinda weak. Hello Nasty anyone? I did recognize the main single from The Five Boroughs, but the majority of the songs were from their big four albums. They also showed a lot of humility and respect for the crowd. It is obvious that they have wandered the desert of celebrity and gathered enough wisdom along the way to appreciate their good fortune. Through such awareness, they embraced and and reveled in the crowd's enthusiasm.

Mike D was really on his game tonight, bouncing and bobbing and pointing and goofing around in an Elton-John-sized pair of diamond-encrusted glasses. His voice is their sound. MCA looked a little lethargic at times, and KingAdRock seemed to be shouting his rhymes, but their onstage persona was a contagion of mirth. Each song was to be savored as a bite of mouthwatering late-night cheesesteak.