What happens when the world's most popular independent rock band goes major? Is punk the new metal? And are the Offspring this generation's Mötley Crüe? Or Foreigner? Read on...

by CHRIS YURKIW

Does anyone like the Offspring? Eight and a half million consumers of their Smash notwithstanding, the poor California punk quartet get dissed all over the place--and not just in that most predictable way that indie/punk purists will spurn a band for selling albums, let alone making the move to a major label.

Take one of their mentors, for example, Marky Ramone: "I don't consider the Offspring to be a real punk band. I think they're just a heavy metal band who decided to play punk music and capitalize on it." Or Bob Mould, formerly of Hüsker Dü, the mythical group from which virtually all melodi-core punk flows: "They're TSOL!" he once said (referring to one of the originators of the Orange County sound and virtual father of the Offspring). Or a review of their first album for the Epitaph label, Ignition, from the Brit metal bible Kerrang!: "Nothing that Bad Religion can't do many times better."

To be fair, most of the reviews of 1992's Ignition in pimply punkzines were laudatory ("TSO who?"), and that's not only what counted but also what lifted the Offspring to its unprecedented indie mass success with the follow-up Smash. But now those old 'core fans are gone, and that leaves the Offspring somewhere between punk and a hard-rock place--not to mention on a most major of major labels, Columbia. But this kind of jam began for the group even before they had a falling out with Epitaph president Brett Gurewitz, even before they left the upstart indie label for a biggie. And as guitarist Noodles explains, at this point the band is way past the backlash.

"I think we got more of it with Smash than we've gotten for jumping to Columbia" says the man less known as Kevin Wasserman and better known as the guy in the Offspring with the machine-shop glasses. "We got a lot of it back then--just for selling records. So maybe now that we're not selling as much, it's okay that we're on Columbia! But these days, I haven't had anyone say anything to me, except for Fletcher from Pennywise. He's the only one who's given me any shit about it at all! And I'm glad he's there giving me shit about it."

Ah, that good old indie rock self-deprecation, or self-hate, or misanthropy. In a way, it doesn't matter if you read the Pig Latin/Spanish title of the Offspring's first major-label volley, Ixnay on the Hombre, as "Down with man" (as Noodles does) or "Down with the man," because both are little bits of self-flagellation. And you certainly get the vibe from Noodles that he and the band haven't yet figured out just how to comport themselves in their new role. Does anyone like the Offspring? These days, it's not even clear if they like themselves. Everyone says they mix in overt metallic riffage with the classic 8/8 hardcore spasms (and they do), but in 1997 isn't punk just the new metal, anyway? Doesn't Noodles believe that punk has just replaced metal as the hard rock of choice for oily boys?

"Yeah, I do," he says in his resigned way, and then with a laugh, "We're this generation's Mötley Crüe, I guess."

But Noodles, vocalist-guitarist-songwriter Dexter Holland, bassist Greg Kreisel and drummer Ron Welty shouldn't admit that with shame, because all they're doing--mass success aside--is continuing a grand tradition in California punk. Black Flag were among the first Cali-hardcore bands to grow their hair long and play guitar solos, the defunct L.A. indie-rock label Enigma had no problem associating itself with the Metal Blade imprint and other bands from the Offspring's Republican-stronghold home of Orange Country, like Agent Orange and TSOL, were developing the hybrid sound from the early '80s. The only thing the Offspring do that those bands don't, or didn't, is plop an even heavier dose of pop into the cocktail. No one says that what the Offspring are doing is original, but no one denies their pop sense and few can resist it. Populist rock critic Chuck Eddy may have said it best when he described their strength as writing "punchy car-radio hard rock like Ratt or Foreigner" and, indeed, everyone would be better off if more people regarded the Offspring as such, the band included.

And if that's the mission here, however unacknowledged, the group delivers with Ixnay on the Hombre. Problem is, they're still groping for some kind of street cred, so they go out and release a hardcore stomp like "All I Want" as the first single because, as Noodles says, that's the kind of stuff that's representative of the Offspring's music. But this band is way past "representing," and should just go for the heavy-rotation ring with songs like the neo-power ballad "Gone Away" (which they did for single #2) or the danceable dirty-white-boy funk of "I Choose." Still, you can't deny that the Offspring are punk at heart: they've been kicking the stuff since 1985 and they talk it as well as they walk it.

Noodles: "For me, punk is not just a style of music like Oi or ska, it's also a kind of ideal, where you experience and express different things--a new thing. And you don't do things because that's the way they're done--you do things because that's not the way they're done. It's adventurous and it's daring and, to me, that's what's punk rock."

The Offspring hitch up with the Vans Warped Tour (in Montreal only) this Sunday, July 20 at the Hippodrome de Montréal (Blue Bonnets). Metro Namur. 1pm-10pm. Tickets $25+taxes & service available on site. The rules: no bottles, cans, umbrellas or lawn chairs. There will be a skateboard, skate and bike check on site. Parking $7. 790-1245