October 1997 – OK, I admit it, I'm knee-deep in irony here. I'm at a party in downtown Manhattan, where black is the color and cost doesn't matter, nibbling tasty, exotic snacks of uncertain origin, sipping free drinks – and for what reason? To launch an album and film aimed to help Tibet, a downtrodden country so poor – thanks to its rough handling by neighborhood bully China – that it can't even scratch itself.

But such is the contradictory nature of any charity, I guess, you have to spend money to raise money. And the more guilt I feel the more I empathize with Tibet's problems, which has to be the desired result of the Milarepa Fund, a brainchild of the Beastie Boy Adam Yauch (aka MCA).

The Tibetan Freedom Concert launch registered a small blip on the celebrity-spotting radar (two Beastie Boys, one Sonic Youth and a rapper from A Tribe Called Quest). For the most part, the Milarepa Fund/Tibetan Freedom concept is a noble one. In 1994, Yauch co-founded the non-profit organization – named after one of the big saints in Tibetan Buddhism – "dedicated to the promotion of human compassion" and most importantly Tibet's ongoing, violence-free struggle against China.

Yauch, who recently took the Buddhist oath himself, was the big motivator behind the two Tibet Freedom concerts (1997's two day alterna-fest at Randall's Island and last year's San Francisco love-in); so far they've raised upwards of $800,000 for the monks in a funk.

If Nobel laureates are ever handed out to anemic hip-hoppers from Brooklyn, Yauch should be first in line. And as Yauch recently declared, these annual free-for-alls are going to keep happening "until Tibet is free," with Washington, DC, earmarked for 1998. Take that China.

Beck

As a stand-alone musical statement, the three disc, 30-plus track Tibetan Freedom Concert is an indie rock lover's wet dream come true, pulling together highlights (and the odd lowlight) from the ’96 and ’97 shows. The roll-call includes Ben Harper doing a fair Hendrix take on the interstellar riffing of "Ground On Down," Patti Smith tearing into "About A Boy," Radiohead's epic sweep through "Fake Plastic Trees" (a personal fave), U2 struggling with a very shaky "One" (Bono's voice simply isn't there), Foo Fighters’; "This Is A Call," plus the usual Sonic Youth art attack, and cameos from Porno for Pyros and rapper KRS-1.

The second disc is all about team-building: Pearl Jammers McCready and Vedder join hands on "Yellow Ledbetter"; REM's Mills and Stipe come together for a stark "Electrolite." Pavement also provide their angular jangle, Blur their high IQ'd Brit Pop thing, while Bjork's "Hyper-Ballad" can't be overlooked (even though Alanis and her tiresome "Wake Up" probably can).

To close the party, boy-wonder Beck rocks his "Asshole," De La Soul offer "Me, Myself & I," and Rage Against the Machine bring it on down with their typically subtle, understated "Bulls On Parade." Interspersed through all the rock, roll, grunge and groove are heartfelt messages towards freeing Tibet, plus your obligatory opening and closing prayers. Even if the politics don't grab you, the music undoubtedly will. The listening public can make up their own minds come November 4, when the triple disc set hits the stores.

The companion film of these two days of enlightened rocking – imaginatively titled Free Tibet and directed by Brit Sarah Pirozek – will see light of day come November 6. While only promos were being rolled during the launch, it's bound to be something more than your typical rockumentary. For one thing, it's got a great soundtrack. In between footage of all the acts that made it onto the triple album are chats with the stars, snapshots of saffron-robed Tibetan monks and nuns drifting, with slightly bemused looks, through the crowd, plus a blow-by-blow of the problems in Tibet (1.2 million dead and still counting, tragically).

Speaking to fellow on-line mag Addicted To Noise, director Pirozek stated that there's no question that China's stampeding of Tibet "is morally and intrinsically wrong," while Beastie Adam Yauch compared Pirozek's film to When We Were Kings. As he explained, in the same way a predilection for pugilism wasn't necessary to watch Kings, "people not necessarily into the bands would still be interested in the (Tibet concert) movie."

It seems that the ripple Yauch started in 1994 has built into a tsunami. Tibet is extremely big news in the world of Hollywood, not just rock'n'roll, with at least two features about to make their big-budgeted presence felt. The wise choice would be Martin Scorcese's Kundun, a $30 million epic on the life of the Dalai Lama, although Seven Years In Tibet is more likely to pull in the bucks, seeing as it stars Brad Pitt.

The two films "certainly have their similarities," Michael Besman, executive producer of TriStar's Seven Years recently stated on-line. "But they're really told from different points of view. Ours is about [Austrian mountaineer] Heinrich Harrer and his journey [during which he befriended the young Dalai Lama], while Kundun is about the Dalai Lama himself."

Speaking of the wise man, I'd love to know what the Dalai Lama makes of all this attention. I can almost picture it: the sagacious one smiles benignly, turns to a saffron-robed sidekick and whispers, "These Americans are strange people."