h

Rancid : ...Honor is All We Know

In the early ‘90s, Rancid were fresh-faced punk rockers from Berkeley, California. Charged up on youth nitro, Rancid figured they could rattle cages forever. Partly true. On their eighth record, time hasn’t wearied Rancid so much as hardened them. The trouble starts with a crashing, bruising Back Where I Belong, shouter/guitarist Tim Timebomb carelessly rambling “Well I’m standing in the rain and I kind of want the blame/And it’s all the fucking same and I’d do it all again.” For Rancid, punk rock isn’t just for life, it is life.
 
There’s comfort in Raise Your Fist’s bouncing bass line, a cheeky bit of pop prefixing salty, rough-housing punk. They invite customary ska rhythms in Evil’s My Friend, likewise Everybody’s Sufferin’ rocking upto dance. Honor’s filled to brimming with upbeat punk rock anthems like A Power Inside and In the Streets,the latter possessed by a looming, sneering spirit of The Clash. Malfunction glows redder than red among the cuts. Timebomb’s hoary croaking staggers like he’s had a few too many. Tambourines are shakin’ asses like its 1964, and it sounds like Wasted Youth's doing the watusi.
 
Rancid’s still seized under currents of shop-worn punk anarchy, but Honor’s all about the basics. Get angry, go wild. If you have fun during, great. As far as that goes, Honor does what it says on the damn tin.
 
BY TOM VALCANIS
 
Best Track: Malfunction
If You Like These, You’ll Love This: NOFX, BAD RELIGION, THE OFFSPRING 
In A Word: Half-full