311: Don't Tread On Me : Music Reviews : Rolling Stone

Album Reviews

This once-prominent L.A. quintet always stood out from the rap-rock crowd thanks to its pseudo-Rasta positivity and frat-boy skank. But on their eighth album, 311 distance themselves further from the sleek hybrid sounds that made them somewhat interesting. Don't Tread on Me finds their grooves as bouncy and deftly syncopated as ever, but whatever momentum they achieve is seriously compromised by annoyingly bright, ska-lite tunes such as "Thank Your Lucky Stars" and "Frolic Room." The harmonized, sun-soaked catchiness on "Waiting" is such a blatant stab at radio play that you almost pine for an awkward rhyme or two, and the turgid metal riffage of "Solar Flare" is confounded by misplaced swipes at "MTV ho's" who constantly turn out "the same fuckin' song." But instead of seeming angry or inspired, 311 just end up sounding like the pop world has passed them by.