As one third of the revered and respected Beastie Boys, the artist officially known as Michael Diamond co-steered a hugely successful crossover project that combined a profound love for hip-hop culture with anarchic irreverence, sense of unrestrained joy, innovative visual flair, encyclopaedic expertise of pop culture from kung fu flicks to Jamaican dub deep cuts, and – occasionally overlooked – an unrivalled and profoundly experimental musical range from old school hip hop to thrashing punk, squelchy electronics and blissed-out psychedelia. 14 years since that story ended with the untimely passing of Adam “MCA” Yauch, Thank You marks Mike D moving on from recent projects (including 2018’s huge, and hugely enjoyable, Beastie Boys Book and 2020’s documentary Beastie Boys Story which found Mike D and Ad-Rock cruise through the trio’s 40-year saga live on stage) that have revisited and reflected on the Beastie Boys’ achievements. Returning in solo mode after a prolonged absence and without the alchemic assistance of past key collaborators was always going to risk inviting unfavourable comparisons to past triumphs, but Thank You does not need to rely on nostalgic goodwill to maintain engagement. This is a thoroughly energised, sassily gonzo and refreshingly rough around the edges album, the distillation of spontaneous recording sessions at Mike D’s home studio (starring sons Skyler and Davis Diamond amongst other collaborators), which not infrequently feels like it’s straining at the leash with its bombardment of unusually paired-up ideas. Big part of the album’s appeal is undoubtedly rooted in a fundamental stylistics reboot. Tracks that find Mike D spray typically dextrous rhymes can’t help but carry more than a trace element of the Beastie Boys sound: the bouncy swagger of “What We Got” for example would probably not feel out of place amidst the uncharacteristically pure hip hop manoeuvres of the trio’s final album, 2011’s Hot Sauce Committee Part 2. Elsewhere, Thank You bounces around stylistic cues as promiscuously as1998’s Hello Nasty, infused with an inability to make do with just one idea or template for very long that feels very attuned to the depleted attention spans of our time. The theoretically disparate strands that find the chaotic avant-electronica clatter of “Crypto” share running time with the languid dub-wise sway of “I Don’t Care” are united by Mike D’s familiar voice (more often chanting and semi-singing than rapping here) and a sparsely organic yet delightfully messy live feel. True to form, the two peaks of Thank You represent the album’s most wildly contrasting outliers. “Switch Up” is a manic blast of pure positively raging, drum n bass-hued energy that caterwauls around the room like a goofy spaniel after a hefty dose of caffeine, suggesting a dayglo-clad update of Suicide, whilst the title track finds Mike D look back gratefully and gracefully on cherished years of friendship and mutually shared creativity with his former bandmates, evidencing unmasked sincerity and direct emotional resonance that Beastie Boys rarely dabbled with.