PG-13 punk

Offspring can't find the hooks

by Matt Ashare

Offspring's major-label debut is full of odd surprises. First, there's the "Disclaimer," a spoken-word intro by veteran agitpunk wiseacre Jello Biafra, who warns, in a voice dripping with venomous sarcasm, "This album contains explicit depictions of things which are real. These real things are commonly known as life."

That raises the stakes for Offspring, a band who generated a hell of a lot more controversy by leaving indie Epitaph for corporate Columbia than they ever have in a song. I mean, here's a band whose commercial breakthrough (1994's Smash) was driven by a tune that reduced gang violence to a harmless playground scuffle ("Come Out and Play") and a goofy ode to a guy whose girlfriend sleeps around ("Self Esteem"). Hell, even Coolio's more transgressive than that.

On the new one, Ixnay on the Hombre (Columbia, in stores this Tuesday), singer/guitarist/former grad student Brian "Dexter" Holland employs profanity ("Cool To Hate") and candidly discusses pot smoking ("Mota"), but mostly it's a PG-13 affair. The high-impact collision of breakneck tempos, rah-rah choruses, and revved-up guitars on otherwise harmless tunes like "The Meaning of Life" and "Cool To Hate" does pose a slight danger: a Drew Bledsoe could pull a hamstring trying to dance to "Cool To Hate." And, believe me, it's definitely rock for jocks. So I'm guessing either that Biafra didn't hear the disc before offering the "Disclaimer" or that he's suffering from an early onslaught of senile dementia. Either way, the intro is a hoot and a half.

Perry Farrell, though, is likely to be laughing the hardest -- and maybe even phoning a lawyer -- when he hears "Me & My Old Lady." Holland doesn't slander the Lord of Lollapalooza but he sure does a fine job of aping him. Working with Dave Jerden, the producer who helped put Farrell in the Top 40, Offspring pull off an impressively dead-on imitation of Jane's Addiction, right down to pinched mutant yelps and a maraca-shaking dance rhythm. It's one of the disc's catchiest, not to mention most unsettling, tracks. There's just something bizarre about catching Orange County's premier punks blatantly stealing from "Been Caught Stealing" without so much as a hint of parody. At least it proves that Holland can sing a falsetto and that lead guitarist Noodles has more than just muscular power chords up his sleeve.

There's one more salient oddity: the strident power ballad "Gone Away," which makes an early feint in the direction of crunch rock à la Social Distortion (another band Jerden has produced) before plodding forward in the style of Bon Jovi, Mötley Crüe, Ozzy Osbourne, or any of those '80s titans who made a habit of tacking a transparently touching, soul-searching, radio-friendly number onto every album so that they'd be able to make a sensitive video in which the big-breasted chick in the tight pants could offer solace instead of just sex. Even if there's real personal pain behind lyrics like "It feels like heaven's so far away . . . maybe in another life I could find you there," the sentiments are too hackneyed for the preciously cloying delivery they're afforded. And you thought punk rock was supposed to do away with the need for such empty sentimentality.

The irony, and there's plenty of that here, is that "Gone Away" can hardly be considered a commercial concession. Even Beavis and Butt-head are going to be tempted to change the channel, and I'm confident Columbia would prefer one "Come Out and Play" to a half-dozen power ballads. (Besides, the entire concept of "selling out" went out the window when the mainstream started buying in.) Ixnay on the Hombre doesn't really have a "Come Out and Play" or a "Self Esteem." The "keep 'em separated" barrio voice is back on the humorous anti-stoner rant "Mota," but there's no Arabic surf riff to finish it off. And "Way Down the Line" steals the Kinks' timeless "You Really Got Me" riff back from Van Halen to good effect, though the tune is more reminiscent of Diver Down-era VH than anything you'd find on Kinks Kronicles.

Other than that, and the requisite ska detour of "Don't Pick It Up," Offspring largely stick to the loud, fast rules, which postulate that speed and precision obviate the need for pop hooks. It's like athletes running an obstacle course: looking good is secondary to reaching the finish line first. The secret of Smash's success was that it did both: with "Come Out and Play" Offspring fused hardcore, metal, and surf punk into something that moved quickly and sounded great. The problem with Ixnay on the Hombre is that when Offspring slow down they're nothing special, which I guess is often an accurate description of the real life Biafra alludes to in the intro. But you really don't need a band to tell you that.