The Offspring

The Offspring was one of the biggest bands to emerge from the pop-punk explosion of the mid-'90s, boasting hooked-filled, frat-friendly anthems and a metallic gleam that referred back to the old-school sludge that L.A. punks fell for when they burned out on adrenaline. Singer Dexter Holland didn't try to evoke the pain and suffering of adolescence -- instead, his voice was just plain authoritative, the commanding bark that skinny kids in malls across America wish they wielded.

The Offspring's early albums could have been made by any number of Orange County punks. But Smash is a powerful document. "Come Out and Play" imagines gang warfare as a game between street kids, without reducing it to a cheap joke; the song describes how self-mythologizing MCs can be when addressing the subject. And the female sex predator of "Self Esteem" teaches our hero some hard-won nerd wisdom: Under the wrong circumstances, sex can be demeaning, even if you're a guy.

Success didn't spoil the Offspring, but it sure made the band's immediate authority less attractive. By Americana, it sounded like the king of the hill picking on the little people. And yet the wigger-bashing "Pretty Fly (for a White Guy)," the welfare-to-work anthem "Why Don't You Get a Job?" and the beleaguered-boyfriend plaint "She's Got Issues" are irresistible.

Neither original nor particularly pranky, "Original Prankster," from Conspiracy of One, was pretty spry for a white lie, but "I Want You Bad" is fun. "Your one vice/Is you're too nice," Holland sings to a pretty, prim thing he wants to deck in whips and leather. Having struck the perfect balance between the punk novelty single that sells albums and the serious thrash that appeases diehards, the Offspring learned to milk that formula with style.

Three years later, Splinter served up a familiar collection of party-hearty and slamming sounds: catchy pogo punk ("Long Way Home"), sludgy pseudo-grunge ("Race Against Myself"), reggae-lite jams ("The Worst Hangover Ever"), and lighthearted ditties about romantic dysfunction ("Spare Me the Details"). Ironically, Splinter drags when the Offspring is most faithful to its roots -- trad-punk numbers such as "Lightning Rod" are a bit too reverential. But like jokey pioneers the Ramones, the Offspring could keep riding its dumb humor and smart riffs well into middle age. (KEITH HARRIS)

From 2004's The New Rolling Stone Album Guide