This clip comes from the band’s 1975 appearance on the BBC’s The Old Grey Whistle Test—sure to make you forget Halford ever sported spikes, yet realize what a huge influence Priest had on rocka and rolla.

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I mean, I didn’t even know the guy. But the more I thought about it—and, of course, began playing Beasties songs in my head—something else became clear: the Beastie Boys’ songs are attached to only happy times in my life. And some of the best. They’re not the group you turned to when you were heartbroken, or angry, or looking for answers. MCA, Mike D and Ad-Rock were the guys you went to for a good time—road trips, parties, barbecues, swimming holes—the soundtrack to all of the fun and stupid things I went through when I was younger, and got away with.

The Beastie Boys were unexpected pioneers of hip-hop—all the proof I need is that warped cassette of Paul’s Boutique that now sits in a drawer. Or the stony video for “So What’cha Want” that Yauch directed himself as Nathaniel Hörnblowér. These Boys became men, leaving behind their frat-party lunkhead ways to become sage activists. And Yauch was probably the calmest and coolest of the three. They grew up, I grew up.

But enough with the melodrama. I leave you with my favorite B-Boys video, one that takes me right back to that roach-infested apartment in Chico, California, in 1992 where I saw it for the first time, having some silly times with some of my best friends. Thanks, Mr. Yauch.

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The documentary centers on a group of patients suffering from Alzheimer’s, who are awakened so to speak after listening to music from their youth. The clip below shows 92-year-old Henry Dryer, who suffers from dementia; he barely speaks and doesn’t recognize his own daughter. Once the headphones are placed in his ears Dryer miraculously snaps out of it. He continues to talk about it once the music stops, recalling memories of songs and artists from when he was young, saying “[Music] gives me the feeling of love.”

Also featured in Alive Inside is author and neurologist Oliver Sacks, best known for his book Musicophilia. And while there have been loads of other studies on music’s effects on the brain, and there appears to be some well-executed product-placement for the iPad here, the results are still powerful.

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For more than 30 years, Clark was the guy giving those artists their first breaks, and defending them against disapproving parents. He’s also the one common thread in many people’s early memories of pop music. My parents. Me. Anyone born in the ’80s. Dick Clark was a square, but he still managed to introduce to the world a wide range of artists, including Buddy Holly, Public Image Ltd, Run-D.M.C., Little Richard, X, Conway Twitty, Sparks, The Jam, Madonna, The Seeds, Def Leppard, Captain Beefheart, Chubby Checker … the amazing list goes on.

American Bandstand was as big a part of my Saturday mornings as Looney Tunes. The Barry Manilow version of “Bandstand Boogie” was burned into my tender gray matter for years. And while Clark’s Bandstand came to an end in 1989, and he became more associated with bloopers, $10,000 Pyramids and New Year’s Eve countdowns (not to mention the now infamous scene in Michael Moore’s Bowling for Columbine), he was—and always will be—the World’s Oldest Teenager. Appreciate that for what it is. It’s a position that will probably never be filled.

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It’s nice to see Elvis Costello having fun on stage. His current tour is less about Costello’s jazz-country-ragtime leanings of the past two decades and more about the rock. And the spectacle. The good stuff.

Bringing back his Spectacular Spinning Songbook that debuted some 25 years ago, Costello and his Intruders mixed rock show with game show into a long and unpredictable good time. Beardless, looking svelte and way too goddamn charming for a rock and roller, Costello wore many hats (literally two)—that of E.C. himself, and that of his alter ego Napoleon Dynamite, who directed the show with the help of a giant multi-colored wheel that would determine our fates.

But before the Spectacular Spinning Songbook got a workout, the audience did with an opening barrage of classics, including “Pump It Up,” “Uncomplicated” and “Radio Radio.” And while his vocals slipped behind those songs’ snappy tempos, it turns out Costello was just getting warmed up. The Intruders—keyboardist Steve Nieve, drummer Pete Thomas and bassist Davey Faragher (also a founding member of the band Cracker)—are a crack rock unit, especially Thomas, whose drumming is still crisp and spot-on. And they carried on for almost three hours, as audience members came and went from the stage, spinning a giant wheel filled with song-titles and lyrical themes, taking a seat in the “Society Lounge” and occasionally dancing friskily in the go-go cage situated stage right.

Needless to say, there was plenty of eye-candy. And the anticipation of not knowing which song would come next (along with the breaks in the action that came with it) kept the long set from dragging. Also helping matters was the cross-section of expected hits (”Alison,” “Oliver’s Army,” “Watching the Detectives”) that were met with more obscure ones (”Clowntime Is Over,” “Just a Memory”) and the usual well-chosen covers. Costello even got a few of his more eclectic, I-married-a jazz pianist, easy-listeners in there, including “A Slow Drag With Josephine,”—which are no match for his venomous oldies, even as he performs them at the age of 57.

A few things I took away from the evening (aside from the obvious): Costello is one of the few performers that can get away with blending the highbrow and the lowbrow. He also gave the audience an impressive display of his guitar abilities, from tasteful picking to extended noise explosions. For me, the nastier, noisier numbers will always win out in the end. The cost of Costello’s suits has probably quadrupled since he’s written most of these songs, but it’s still that knock-kneed 20-something underneath them. And while I was beyond happy to hear those old songs in close to their original form, I couldn’t help but be a little disappointed that Costello didn’t get around to playing the soft and sappy “Indoor Fireworks.” I’m sure I wouldn’t have been the only one to let the smoke get in their eyes.

Photo courtesy of elviscostello.com

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