The Offspring: Boston Worcester Centrum

It's all a send up, and a damn good one...

We’re on a brief “intermission” and Southern California’s merry pranksters, The Offspring, take to their inflatable chairs as an oversized man in an undersized thong claims centre stage to shake his ass amid a flurry of soapy bubbles. What do The Offspring and a bunch of bubbles have in common? Well, they’re both on the verge of going pop and no matter how juvenile they may seem, they’re both inextricably fun.

Sure, naysayers and “authentic”-type punks will mumble about novelty and grumble about selling out and keeping it real and all, but The Offspring’s lead man Dexter Holland is all shrugs. So, with a roaring ripcord pull of distorto-guitar we dive back in, headlong into ‘All I Want’, with Holland’s high-pitched “Nah-nah nah-nah nah” and everyone is suddenly bouncing. Ha! So there.

Like most of their songs, ‘Million Miles Away’ and ‘The Kids Aren’t Alright’ whirr by, clocking in at just over three-chords in just under three-minutes, sending the pit into super-collider mode. On the other extreme to the furious end of the spectrum are a bottomless bag of loony-tuned, ACME-brand firebomb songs -still fast, just funnier.

The Offspring may be a joke, but not unintentionally so.

It’s nothing but smirking irony as legions of obnoxious store-bought punkers and their homies in oversized hoodies bounce along to the goof, ‘Pretty Fly (For A White Guy)’. Even if the crowd doesn’t get the joke, it’s nodding anyway, shouting “uh-huh, uh-huh.” It’s all a send up, and a damn good one. As it turns out these guys are much smarter than you’d think.

Ben Wolford