Rocker (feedbot)
Platinum Member
From starting our as falsetto firebrands exposing social wrongs, the Offspring have settled into their niche as punk rock’s jolly uncles, cranking out jokes as readily as they drop an MTV era riff. Their staying power has resulted in possibly their most family-friendly incarnation yet, judging by the number of pre-teens sporting gelled Mohawks scattered through the crowd. That said, under the band’s thin candy shell of whimsy, the Offspring still bite as hard as they did last century.
Let’s get one thing clear: the Offspring are one hell of a punk band. When they drop ‘Come Out and Play’, and Dexter Holland isn’t autotuning his trademark yelp while hiding behind layers of production, they’re easily the equal of “serious” punk bands. A quasi-religious organ intro leads into ‘Want You Bad’ – a solid punk song that, performed live, is fast and direct. When it’s separated from the constant replays, and its place in our collective consciousness, we realise just how much the Offspring can slap when they need to. They take the guitar up on ‘Let The Bad Times Roll’ before letting it slide into an acoustic drop down. Things feels all the more post-apocalyptic as a result, especially when backed by faint, end-of-days organ strains. Giant inflatable skeletons punctuate their whirlpool rendition of ‘Make It All Right’, a maze of vocal harmony and guitar that can absorb you in its prettiness.
The problem the Offspring have always had live, and still haven’t quite solved yet, is how to mitigate their own desire for whimsy. They’ve segregated it into a long middle meander, half-an-hour of jam in the middle of a slam sandwich that takes us through Black Sabbath covers, dad jokes and classical allusions. It would be easy to dismiss this as aging punks being silly, but their love for all things alt pours from each chord. When they drop in ‘Crazy Train’ or Ramones’ ‘I Wanna Be Sedated’, it’s clear how devoted they are to the covers they’re offering. Similarly, rolling on a white piano pouring with dry ice could easily be seen as a Liberace moment, but Holland’s solo ‘Gone Away’ into ‘Hey Jude’ is enough to make the goosebumps rise and the phone lights blink on in the darkness.
‘Why Don’t You Get A Job?’ thunders us into the home stretch. Sounding like a party demo, the layers of memory strip away to reveal how it must have appeared on first hearing. With beach balls, giant animated shrimp and lyrics on the screens, this is now the Offspring’s ‘Sweet Caroline’ moment. ‘Pretty Fly (For A White Guy)’ has metamorphosed too, their tone now paternal towards the misguided protagonist, before we’re swept into an incredibly tight ‘Self Esteem’ that feels like it should be on a gritty superhero movie soundtrack.
The big reveal as they leave, of course, is that they’ll be back in London next summer to play a park show, but that doesn’t mean tonight is just an advert. The Offspring might be older, but they’ve doubled down on what made them so compelling in the first place. They’re making slick, cross-generational punk that relies on the core of their sound to speak for itself without using their mainstream stardom as a crutch, and we’re all the better for experiencing a show of this calibre.
Kate Allvey
Photo: Tijs van Leur
Let’s get one thing clear: the Offspring are one hell of a punk band. When they drop ‘Come Out and Play’, and Dexter Holland isn’t autotuning his trademark yelp while hiding behind layers of production, they’re easily the equal of “serious” punk bands. A quasi-religious organ intro leads into ‘Want You Bad’ – a solid punk song that, performed live, is fast and direct. When it’s separated from the constant replays, and its place in our collective consciousness, we realise just how much the Offspring can slap when they need to. They take the guitar up on ‘Let The Bad Times Roll’ before letting it slide into an acoustic drop down. Things feels all the more post-apocalyptic as a result, especially when backed by faint, end-of-days organ strains. Giant inflatable skeletons punctuate their whirlpool rendition of ‘Make It All Right’, a maze of vocal harmony and guitar that can absorb you in its prettiness.
The problem the Offspring have always had live, and still haven’t quite solved yet, is how to mitigate their own desire for whimsy. They’ve segregated it into a long middle meander, half-an-hour of jam in the middle of a slam sandwich that takes us through Black Sabbath covers, dad jokes and classical allusions. It would be easy to dismiss this as aging punks being silly, but their love for all things alt pours from each chord. When they drop in ‘Crazy Train’ or Ramones’ ‘I Wanna Be Sedated’, it’s clear how devoted they are to the covers they’re offering. Similarly, rolling on a white piano pouring with dry ice could easily be seen as a Liberace moment, but Holland’s solo ‘Gone Away’ into ‘Hey Jude’ is enough to make the goosebumps rise and the phone lights blink on in the darkness.
‘Why Don’t You Get A Job?’ thunders us into the home stretch. Sounding like a party demo, the layers of memory strip away to reveal how it must have appeared on first hearing. With beach balls, giant animated shrimp and lyrics on the screens, this is now the Offspring’s ‘Sweet Caroline’ moment. ‘Pretty Fly (For A White Guy)’ has metamorphosed too, their tone now paternal towards the misguided protagonist, before we’re swept into an incredibly tight ‘Self Esteem’ that feels like it should be on a gritty superhero movie soundtrack.
The big reveal as they leave, of course, is that they’ll be back in London next summer to play a park show, but that doesn’t mean tonight is just an advert. The Offspring might be older, but they’ve doubled down on what made them so compelling in the first place. They’re making slick, cross-generational punk that relies on the core of their sound to speak for itself without using their mainstream stardom as a crutch, and we’re all the better for experiencing a show of this calibre.
Kate Allvey
Photo: Tijs van Leur