The Offspring were a 90's and 00's era punk rock band from Huntington Beach, California. They put out two LP's on the mostly shithouse Epitaph record label, and gained immense popularity upon the release of 'Smash' in 1994, the year punk broke, eventually signing to a major. Their fans wore Vans low tops in a wide variety of colours and had their first ecstasy pills at Schoolies 1997. Many of their Australian fanbase congregated on the Gold Coast and drunk beers underage. They were often semi-skilled at ether surfing or skateboarding. Bladers were tolerated, but rarely revered, unless they had a really mint looking billy. In 2009, they don't own any of the band's CD's anymore.
The Offspring's fourth LP, titled 'Ixnay on the Hombre' was released in Februrary of 1998, and is one of my favourite records.
Jello Biafra opens up the LP with some hyperbolic ranting about King Buzzo's afro or San Fransisco water consumption policy or some shit, is his nasally asshole voice. It should be news to no-one that this man post-1984 is a complete and total embarrasment; a real doofus, and as it stands this is probably the best record that Biafra has appeared on since "Bedtime for Democracy".
"The Meaning of Life" is the first musical track on the record. It rules. The guitarist, Noodles, rules. The bassist, Greg K., has that wicked post-ska bumping grooveline thing going. A nice singalong "Whoooa yeaah" chorus line is provided courtesy of Dexter Holland, the band's bleach headed vocalist.
"Mota" is next- a great pot-anthem. I rarely use the word "pot" to describe marijuana, I much prefer more ethnic, obscure sounding terms like "the chronic" and "cannabis sativa"; but I feel in this context it is entirely appropriate. This song is a pot smoking anthem. Before the end of each guitar break some dude yells "MOTA!!", and it's definitely not Dex. I'm pretty sure it's not Biafra neither. When I was 9 I used to always watch the video for this song on the groups excellent Americana VHS, and my mum used to get real cut about it. It was just some guy getting really stoned in his living room watching videos and dreaming about huge grips of bud filling his room and shit. Anyway I used to always imagine about smoking bongs to this song, and really wanted to get stoned for this first time with it playing. It seemed totally appropriate. I couldn't wait to be "paranoid and hungry by a quarter to three".. I just had to make sure I wasn't getting ripped off and soled oregano, like what happens to the song'sprotagonist. Anyway, I always bugged my older sister about get me some the chronic, who was at the time a massive fan of L7 and Ugly Kid Joe, but she always just told my mum about it and my mum blamed the Offspring and stole the video from me, like a cunt. I ended up in my friend Daniel's bedroom a couple years later and we got stoned together but he had pretty bad taste in music so I had to get high listening to Rob fucking Zombie. It bummed me out and I thought it was shit and weird. I'm positive without a doubt that if he was playing the Offspring it would have been a profound, life affirming experience.
"Me and My Old Lady". This song has always kind of bummed me out. Listening back to it now my position remains, and it's placement as track 4 really hinders the forward momentum of the record. I actually like the chorus, but that sub-surf guitar line is such a shitter, and the "she ain't no ball and chain" vocal line between is just fucking irritating. Also, as 4:22 it's far too long.
Fuck yeah! "It's Cool to Hate!" Track 5. I always appreciated this song as a hilarious piece of 1990's American smart assery ("Yeah I hate everything, I even hate you too so fuck you!"), though through a more thoughtful analysis I can also now also appreciate it as a pertinent study of self-loathing and insecurity. Holland's thoughtful lyrics, which are disguised as short, profane jabs at everything around him, seem to hint at a deep-seated psychological discomfort: suggesting that while he might not care much for you, his self hatred is far more intense.
The next track is called "Leave It Behind", and it has the best opening riff on the record by far. A sick, driving sound on that one.
Next is the record's first single, and most well known track. On "Gone Away", Holland attempts to channel the tortured drawl of Kurt Cobain that propelled many of the better Nirvana tunes, and is entirely successful. This is the Offpspring at their most melancholic, open and real.
"I Choose" is a funky, feel good pick me up after the preceding track's dose of aural opiate. Honestly, it's one of the lesser songs on the album, but in the context of the album, following such a swollen, tortued tune, it is refreshing. It's like chasing Jack Daniel's with fairy floss. The group hand claps and cow-bell sounding things are a nice touch, too; whereas "The Bad Touch" from the Bloodhound Gang is one of the worst songs ever written.
Next is an intermission track, titled "Intermission". You are welcomed to the intermission by some guy saying "Welcome to the intermission" and occasionally interjecting into the music with "yeah... intermission". This intermission is fucking hilarious but, really completely unneccassary.
Following that brief comedy piece, the Offspring belt out another 6 stunning rockers, including the anthemic singalong "Way Down the Line"; the brazenly retarded "Don't Pick It Up", which is unfortunately about a piece of canine excrement being mistaken a chocolate bar, and sounds like Operation Ivy with surfy guitar parts.. what is this fucking Guttermouth?!! and the epic, 6+ minute long lasting "Change the World", replete with Misfits like backing vocals and bass, drums and guitar instruments.
The album ends with an instructional interlude on how to make molotov cocktails, and while I appreciate that the band is providing their fans with information on how to safely do so, I think that they might be "taking the piss" a bit, which is completely absurd when talking about explosives. What is this fucking Weird Al Yankovic?!!
"Ixnay on the Hombre" is the Offspring's definitive statement (though I do highly recommend 'Smash' and to a lesser degree, 'Americana'), and a classic of the 90's pop punk genre (alongside Rancid's "...And Out Come The Wolves", the Sewer Trout 10" and New Bomb Turks' "Destroy Oh Boy" LP). Ten years after the fact, it still sounds as vital and refreshing as a day out on Surfer's Paradise in$50 boardies from City Beach, thrashing buge's and CD's in your commodore in the parking lot just before you hit the surf in 1998.
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