Paul's Boutique is a work of such undeniable quality that it would be considered a classic album released at any time and under any circumstances. However, it is worth looking at it in historical context to see just why the twentieth anniversary of its release is cause for celebration. After the defiantly dumb (if entertaining) frat rap of Licensed to Ill sold approximately 3 gazillion copies in 1986-7, the Beasties made the seemingly bizarre move of splitting from both producer Rick Rubin and Def Jam. Having known that they could continue making the same 'cod metal riff meets screechy, offensive vocals' for evermore, probably continuing to make oodles of cash while seeing the amount of people who actually care about them dwindle, they decided instead to hole themselves away with the hitherto unknown Dust Brothers, and try and make a proper record.

It is to the Beastie's eternal credit that they chose the challenging option, and opted to push themselves to their collective creative limit rather than rehashing Licensed to Ill. Frankly, though it sold poorly upon release, Paul's Boutique is the record that has allowed them to have a career of such longevity. Besides, they were never the politically incorrect morons that they allowed themselves to be portrayed as.

So, the LP itself. Well, it is pretty much the perfect hip hop record; magpie like production that begs, borrows and steals from just about every record ever made backing Ad Rock, MCA and Mike D's playful (but now sometimes downright insightful) call and response vocals. As a link between hooligan Beasties and worthy Beasties, it's definitely perfect. Which other band, at which other time, could base a track around the bassline from Curtis Mayfield's socially aware 'Superfly', add a vocal sample from Public Enemy's militant 'Black Steel In the Hour of Chaos', and decide that the most fitting lyric would be one involving drive by eggings of bald folk? Fucking nobody, that's who. Elsewhere, rock guitar riffs are melded with their own social commentary (on the brilliant anti gun tirade of 'Looking Down the Barrel of a Gun') and there's a constant, thrilling air of a group unsure whether to be wilfully immature or grown up, so deciding to do both. At the same time.

The remastering process has been handled sensitively, by the band themselves. There's always a worry with these things that an atmosphere that you thought was part of a record's sound (what, The Smiths' albums weren't supposed to sound like they were recorded in a wind tunnel?!) can be lost. But have no fear, because twenty years on, Paul's Boutique retains its mix of charm, mischief and sophistication, but just sounds richer: bass lines fill the room where once they scratched around in dark corners, and beats (and what fucking beats) now sound thunderous rather than occasionally quaint.

Ill Communication may have had the anthems - and fine ones at that - but Paul's Boutique is a snapshot of a band in a unique period, keeping the humour and childishness of their youthful debut, combined with mindblowing production which was at once ramshackle and utterly sophisticated..quite brilliant.