News Posted December 6, 2018 Posted December 6, 2018 The Offspring lay claim to a legacy that, even after almost 25 years of mainstream success, is difficult to neatly iron out. Punk bands of their size and stature typically mature and grow with age, which is understandable given how creatively limiting the genre can be. Just look at how quickly Green Day pivoted from hurling snot rockets to providing the soundtrack to every senior prom in America with “Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)” or how Blink-182 arguably over-corrected in its move from pop punk idiocy to songs like “Adam’s Song” and “Miss You”. But The Offspring never wholly embraced the idea of growing with age, preferring to hold on to at least a little bit of their adolescence. You have to go back a ways to remember a time when the Orange County band was taken almost too seriously by fans and critics ready to anoint them kings of punk rock’s mainstream resurgence. After earning their cred on 1992’s Ignition, Smash emerged as one of 1994’s biggest and most critically adored rock records. The Offspring were as slyly hilarious and bratty as any of their peers, but whatever humor was to be found in the band largely got lost beneath layers of youthful angst. Whereas Green Day kept things delightfully juvenile, The Offspring dove into weighty subjects like depression and anxiety (“Self Esteem”, “Gotta Get Away”), that is when they weren’t railing against stupid, dumbshit, goddamn motherfuckers. Ixnay on the Hombre, released two years later, stayed largely in its predecessor’s lane. But by 1998, pop music had found its way into just about everything, even music from bands we once thought wanted nothing to do with it. The Offspring’s fifth record, Americana, still gave heavy nods to the band’s SoCal punk lineage. But it also featured a few jarring breaks from tradition, nowhere more so than on the record’s lead single. “Pretty Fly (For a White Guy)” did not sound like The Offspring or much of anything else for that matter. It actually sounds like pop music being used against itself, like a band making a play for the most annoying song of all time. And yet it remains the band’s biggest single and a song that’s actually proven surprisingly influential almost in spite of itself. There’s no skirting around the fact that “Pretty Fly” is a bad song. It’s got an obnoxious chorus (Dexter Holland’s “uh huhs” are still irritatingly chill-inducing), lazy lyrics, lots of cowbell and other odd instrumentation, and even a long-since-defunct Ricki Lake reference. It was a turn away from any perceived self-seriousness and certainly away from the purist, mile-a-minute punk that had long been the band’s calling card. But this would be a harsher critique if the band wasn’t in on the joke. The song is overtly stupid on its face, but it was also meant as an indictment of late-’90s youth culture. The alternative rock boom that launched the band to stardom had come and gone, only to be replaced by boy bands with frosted tips and, perhaps worse, rap metal dunderheads like Korn and Limp Bizkit. The Offspring might have traded in some of its punk cred with “Pretty Fly”, but the opportunity to take potshots at cultural appropriation and mindless posturing was probably worth it. The greatest irony of “Pretty Fly” is how well it succeeded. The Offspring wrote a song that mercilessly skewered pop culture and called out at least some portion of their own fan base. Nevertheless, the song became one of the biggest punk singles of all time. Here in the States, it reached No. 13 on the Billboard Top 40, No. 5 on the Billboard Mainstream Rock charts, and No. 3 on the Billboard Alternative Rock charts. Its success was even greater in other parts of the globe, where it landed at the top of the charts in nine different countries. The song was anything but punk in the musical sense, but The Offspring bit the hand of an adoring public that continued to feed it. That counts for something. The Offspring have continued to have their fun with pop music in the years since. Americana also featured another hit single in “Why Don’t You Get a Job?”, a playful ska joint that clearly took some influence from The Beatles’ “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da”. They continued to savagely troll pop music on “Cruising California (Bumpin’ in My Trunk), the lead single from 2012’s Days Go By, a record that otherwise might be called a back-to-basics retreat to the guitar rock formula. Letting go of punk rock’s boxed-in expectations freed the band up for greater success, and other bands arguably followed their lead. Blink-182 always had a sense of humor about themselves, but it had become a lot more pronounced by the release of 1999’s Enema of the State. Scores of other lighthearted, board shorts-wearing punks also found success into the early 2000s, with New Found Glory, Fenix TX, Good Charlotte, and A Simple Plan all finding their way onto radio and MTV. After almost 30 years, it’s still hard to pinpoint and define The Offspring. Are they a punk band? A pop band? A pop-punk band? A punk band that occasionally uses pop to make fun of pop? They’re undeniably a little bit of all these things, and maybe that’s what’s allowed them to have continued success. There probably was a time where The Offspring wanted nothing more than to be a great punk band. But achieving that pretty quickly allowed them to take other avenues in their music. “Pretty Fly (For a White Guy)” might have taken the band down a ridiculous side road, but it was one that arguably showed how mainstream punk could reinvent itself to stay viable into the 2000s and beyond. Source Quote
Recommended Posts
Join the conversation
You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.