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Now I must admit that I am quite biased to set the bar so high. On the other hand, the album has unexpectedly revealed its strengths after several listens, so here is an attempt at a fair assessment:
The album can most closely be compared to the '95 release. There are no boundary-pushing tempos, yet it is played beautifully dynamically and has a clean production by Epitaph's/BAD RELIGION's Brett Gurewitz. The gentlemen do the same with their instruments as they always have, delivering well to very well written conventional songs. What the bass plays is always reason enough to listen to everything Rancid has to offer. There are two ska tracks that surprisingly do not annoy me but rather please me. Schweineorgel olé! Anyone who plays “Time Bomb” at a party will still feel my bloody revenge.
The songs have enough good melodies and choruses to stick with, but towards the last third of the album, it became a bit too much of the same to remain truly interesting. However, the album is not particularly long, so that can be overlooked. The band seems to still be having fun with it and rocks hard; there are no signs of fatigue. Surely, one or two tracks are also concert-worthy, if the long list of obligatory classics allows it.
Then there’s the singing.
There are essentially three types of vocals, presumably coming from each of the three on string instruments. The growling of a drunken wild boar, the unmotivated recitation of the lyrics, and the antisocial (but rousing) scream. On their own, none of them could win a flower pot, but in combination, they do offer more, and after such a long time, this idiosyncratic singing is probably a trademark of RANCID. If someone in the band actually has a speech impediment, I sincerely apologize; otherwise, I wonder a bit about the perhaps intentional way of articulating the lyrics incomprehensibly. Do you have to sound like a junkie to be punk?
What I gather from the lyrics seems flat and insignificant. What I don’t quite understand is the now established tendency at RANCID to sing about themselves as hardcore Kings of the Hood. Are we in hip hop or what? The title track crowns it all. I had hoped for irony, but I couldn’t find any in the lyrics. Too bad, otherwise it would be a good song. I found their earlier lyrics about fates on the societal sidelines to be more successful.
So what remains in the end? A mediocre RANCID album, which automatically results in a good punk rock album. My hope for a stroke of genius fades unfulfilled, but such a thing never comes from simply repeating the well-known recipe. I am still reconciled.
