drop to a chant. "Someone's Gunna Die" was Freeman's turn to excel, the
song a hardcore gem with a chanted chorus of "oi, oi, oi."
If there was anyone with doubts about the band's musical mastery, "Radio
Radio Radio" laid them permanently to rest. But how did this single turn up
on Fat Wreck Chords as the band was now signed to Epitaph?
"Mr. Brett (Gurewitz) doesn't care if we put out 7-inches elsewhere, and
Fat Mike had asked us long before to do a single for him, so we just did
it. Fat Mike's always had faith in us; he's helped us out and been a good
friend to the whole band. He was one of our earliest supporters. I think
it's been really good for him, and he totally deserves it."
In February 1994, the band began recording "Let's Go." If the musical leap
between their debut and the single was immense, their next leap was
enormous. Twenty-three songs crammed into just under 45 minutes, the record
was a perfect blend of hardcore, punk, and pop.
The songs still zipped by at warp speed, but within, there were slower
passages and breaks, all seamlessly sewn together to give them a fluid
feel. The album was overflowing with tight melodies, choruses that rang
with hooks and anthemic lyrics. The radio single chosen was "Salvation," a
pure crowd sing-along, but it was the loosest of the songs, and for that
reason alone, not representative of the rest of the album. More apt was
"Side Kick" with its pounding drum beat, tight guitars, driving bass, and
catchy chorus.
"Salvation"'s lyrics were semi-autobiographical, telling of Armstrong's
experiences at the Salvation Army, where he exchanged a bed for driving
around the burbs, picking up the well-to-do's cast-offs.
With "Let's Go", the Clash comparisons came fast and furious, especially
aimed at Armstrong, whose gruff vocal style is reminiscent of a less mumbly
Joe Strummer. A more accurate comparison of the band's sound would be to
cross the Clash with hardcore, for the Englishmen never played this fast.
But Rancid's song structures are similar, while their attitude was
identical.
As always, there were hints of reggae and ska carefully embedded into the
songs, syncopated bass lines that sneak in, like the slow passage in
"Burn." It was as if Rancid had rolled the whole of the larger punk genre
into "Let's Go." An in a way they had.
But it's really the intangible things that make "Let's Go" a punk classic.
This includes the lyrics that ring with truth, sincerity, and reality.
Equally important, though, was the sustained level of energy, a
hyperkenetism that infuses the record, spraying out over the listener like
a jolt of double espresso.
That spring, with the album completed, Rancid put together a side project,
Shaken '69. Joining forces with ex-Op Ivy drummer Dave Mello, the Uptones'
Paul Jackson and Eric "Dinwitty" Dinn, and featuring Skankin' Pickles' Lars
Nylander and Mike Park on horns, Shaken '69 is a pure ska band. The group
recorded a couple of songs which hopefully will be turning up in the near
future on compilation. Shaken '69 would like to do more, but as all the
members are in working bands, it's difficult to schedule time.
In June, Rancid embarked on a month-long tour that covered the south and
midwest. After a brief break, they spent August with Sick of It All playing
the west coast.
But the highlight of the summer shows was the Epitaph Summer Nations shows.
A label celebration and party, the celebration stretched across 3 days at
L.A.'s Palladium, a gala event to rejoice in the rise of punk and Epitaph.
The highpoint for many fans was when Pennywise invited Armstrong and
Frederiksen onstage for a rendition of Minor Threat's "Straight Edge."
Come autumn, Rancid were back on their own touring across the nation. Then,
in November, they joined forces with the Offspring for a series of shows
that left crowds partying in happy exhaustion.
1994 also saw the release of the Epitaph compilation, "Punk-o-Rama", which
features two Rancid tracks, "Hyena" and "I Wanna Riot." "Riot" was a slow
skanker with a dark turn, the closest comparison might be the Specials
without the horns.
Rancid was also featured on the Kill Rock Stars compilaiton, "Rock Stars
Kill." Their track, "Brixton," is cloaked in an early reggae sound, down to
the '60s sounding keyboard lines. The album was subtitled "23 More Bands
that Don't Want to Be Rock Stars," which might have been true in some
cases, but at least one band wasn't so sure.
By now, Rancid was a hot commodity, "Let's Go" went swiftly gold, and is
currently working toward platinum, thus label reps were turning up at
numerous shows. Word quickly spread through the press, and a media frenzy
began. And as Freeman explains, "Then we went through all that major label
stuff." Although the band fielded numerous offers, incluidng Maverick
(Madonna did indeed send them a photo of herself, which was taken from the
book), it was Epic that made the biggest impressions.
Epic had a lot going for it. It was the Clash's label, it was offering
$1,500,000 and Micheal Goldstone and Michelle Anthony were genuinely nice
people, who sincerely liked the band.
"Last summer was just f*cking nuts; you had all these bands going crazy
(saleswise), and if you do this for a long time you start thinking in those
terms. We're only human, and we talked to them; if anything, it was a quest
for knowledge. If anyone's throwing that much money in your face , and you
see all the other bands selling like crazy, you're going to consider it.
You'd be a fool not to."
"None of us are college-educated; this band's our life, this is all we
have. When people are giving you that much attention, you're going to
listen to them. So, I'm not ashamed for talking to them. Some people have
said, "How can you even think about it?" Well, f*ck you, I'd like to see
you be so f*cking ideological."
"All of our parents kept working. My dad just had a double hip operation
last year from working all his f*cking life. We all came from working class
areas, we don't have trust funds, this is all we have. If this dies
tomorrow, we'll be doing what we were before this, washing cars or making
pizzas. Yeah, we thought about it."
"In the end, when all was said and done, we made a band decision that we
wanted to stay with Epitaph. No matter what happened that's where we should
be, just because our friends were there."
"I read someplace were it was being compared to (the Sex Pistols) "Great
Rock and Roll Swindle" which would have been a great story--yeah, we took
them to the brink--but no, it had nothing to do with that, I wish it was
that heroic."
And when the dust settled, Rancid went back to work. January 1995 saw the
release of their new single "Roots Radicals" b/w "I Wanna Riot." The single
was extremely catchy, with snatches of punk guitar leads vying with the
ska-infested bass and drum line. The chorus is anthemic; heard once, you'll
be chanting it forever. The song has since reappeared on their new album.
In February, Rancid returned to the road for a short tour encompassing
L.A., Chicago, New York, Boston, and other big cities. Then it was back to
the studio in March, where they spent the next six weeks recording the new
album with Jerry Finn in the producer's chair and Gurewitz behind the
supervising board. After "Let's Go" ti wa hard to imagine what Rancid's
next step would be. Many bands would have been satisfied recording an
extension of their last album. But Rancid have an ability to scour out new
musical crests and mount them with seeming ease. And thus it was with
"...And Out Come the Wolves."
Even the brief intro to the opening track, "Maxwell Murder" was unexpected:
a dark, eerie sample from the movie, "Gringo." And although the rest of the
song was standard Rancid punk, the album quickly shifts gear with "The 11th
Hour" co-written by the Uptones' Eric Dinn. This song was slower than
almost anything they'd done before, its Clash influences proudly bared.
Then, there was the inclusion of "Roots Radicals" which, while not
surprising ("Radio" was also included on an album), heralded a welcome
return to singles and compilations.
The new single, "Time Bomb," was full-on ska, with its chorus recalling Ian
Dury's "Sweet Gene Vincent" black/white listing. Two more ska tracks, "Daly
City Train" and the hook-laden "Old Friend" also appear, all three
featuring the Uptones and Shakin' 69-er Paul Jackson on organ.
Virtually all of the 19 tracks are played at a mid-tempo pace, even though
the album is just under 50 minutes long. Rancid's propensity for trade-off
vocals has increased, to great effect. With each member having a distinct
voice and style, the trade-offs give each song and the lines within added
power and individuality.
With the pace slowed, there's more room for both backing vocals and the
instruments to come to the fore. While Reed provides an excellent backbone
for the music, Freeman continues to play a highlighted role unusual in
punk. On songs like "Journey..." his bass virtually carries the song.
Frederiksen also has greater opportunity to shine. Many of his riffs are
bright, breezy Clash-inspired passages, not surprising from a man who
places the English punks at the top of his hits list. Many of his brief,
but crucial, leads are reminiscent of that band as well. However,
Frederiksen is a far better guitarist than the Clash's Mick Jones was in
1977-78. Thus, Frederiksen's guitar parts are more proficient, inventive,
and interesting.
While most reviewers will opt for the easy Clash comparison, "Wolves" is
not just the best album the Clash never wrote; the sound goes far beyond
that. Songs like "Maxwell Murder" and "As Wicked" owe nothing to England's
finest. "Listed M.I.A." has guitar leads clawed from Johnny Thunders, while
"Avenues & Alleyways" is the Heartbreakers playing a slowed-down hardcore.
"The Way I Feel" even throws in a Pistols' riff, before dissolving into
pure Rancid melodic speedcore.
As always the lyrics were ripped from the band's personal experiences.
There's the good times to be found in "Olympia, WA," Op Ivy's demise in
"Journey...," the chilling look at addiction in "Junkyman," the misery of
homelessness in "As Wicked," and the ubiquitous songs about girls,
including "She's Automatic," "Old Friend," "You Don't Care Nuthin'", et.
al. "Wolves" was nothing short of sublime, and will inevitably bring Rancid
even greater success. After its completion, the band took a well-deserved
break. A September tour of Europe is scheduled followed by another national
tour. At the time of writing in early August, their single is already
receiving major airplay.
Rancid's climb through the music jungle has not been as meteoric as their
labelmates', neither the Offspring nor their friends Green Day. Still,
their success has been dramatic, and for much of the music scene, as
unexpected as the other two. In many ways, Rancid's breakthrough has been
most exciting.
The band is truest in vision and sound to the first wave of punks that
stormed through Britian, but left America cold. From Rancid's mohawks,
bondage pants and studded leather jackets to the social awareness of their
songs, the group carries the torch of true punk. The seed of rebellion are
still in place, and remain there everytime Armstrong raises his middle
finger toward a photographer.
That rebellion spells trouble to parents and danger to the established
order, which is why the Britpunks found themselves co-opted and eventually
marginalized out of existence. But Rancid remains unfettered, sticking to
their guns with their Epitaph posse behind them. Across England, one can
still find the old spray-painted slogan, PUNK ROOLS, fading away on walls.
But, in America, punk rools anew. And Rancid is the new order.
The author, Jo-Ann Greene, goes on to thank Rancid for thier help with this
piece, and particularly Matt Freeman for making so much of his limited
spare time available. Thanks also go out to Larry Livermore, Cathy Bauer,
Lookout Records, Fat Wreck Chords, Flipside records, and the people at
Epitaph.