Review by Gary Spiller for MPM
The Offspring Blimp displays one final message – “Diolch a nos da” – as a sold-out Cardiff crowd stream out of a steaming arena following an immersive three hours in the company of The Offspring and their special guests Simple Plan. The overriding message emanating from the bounds of the stage is one of unbridled love. Love of music, love of expression and above everything else – for this evening at least – the love of all that is Welsh.
The trans-Atlantic charm works an absolute treat; the Utilita Arena ensemble is putty in the palms of these two energetic outfits without question. Two handed hearts aplenty are held aloft throughout the evening and touches like Simple Plan drummer Chuck Comeau donning a Welsh football top afore diving into the crowd to indulge in a spot of surfing go an awful loooonnnnng way!
The Offspring’s guitarist Noodles namechecks the legendary Newport venue TJ’s – one of their first UK shows was there supporting NOFX back in 1993 – as he gushes “Fuck yeah Cardiff! [I’ve] Been a big fan of Wales since we first came over!” The affection comes across sincere possessing genuine warmth that just can’t be faked. It’s all in the little touches as far as we’re concerned.
With the likes of Green Day, Good Charlotte, and Blink 182 bursting from the PA the arena gathering is getting their singing voices nicely warmed up and by the time Canadians Simple Plan spring forth there’s an upbeat, expectant fervour tangibly abounding. Incredibly the four-piece that strides onstage, to the triumphal bodings of the Star Wars main title, are the quartet that got matters started back in 1999.
During the following hour the four Montrealers treat the ever-expanding crowd to their clean-cut brand of pop punk. It’s MTV friendly and some of the material has a familiar edge to it but somewhat shamefully I can’t place them in my recollections with the likes of Sum 41 and Blink 182 stealing the main limelight of the time.
The early singles proliferate throughout with the hi-energy of 2002’s ‘I’d Do Anything’ seeing Cardiff onside from the very off. A numerous following is instantly noticeable with raucous singing in the crowd. From debut lp ‘No Pads, No Helmets…Just Balls’ the track’s punchy pulse casts off the mooring ropes with vocalist Pierre Bouvier is struck by the enthused response, “Oh my god guys, you are amazing!” he verbally applauds before smartly amending the lyrics “I’d do anything for Cardiff!”
With a drone in the darkness snappy pop punk of ‘Shut Up!’ leads a brace of sophomore album ‘Still Not Getting Any’ with the pogoing ‘Jump’ checking in to confirm that the Welsh capital has understood the “Party On” memo that has been widely distributed. The summery breeze of ‘Jet Lag’ follows and the tone is firmly set. Simple Plan are quite simply that what their band name states. Their output doesn’t stray too far from the middle ground of pop punk but what they do, in all fairness to their credit, they do well.
Early single ‘Addicted’ has a sort of Guns n’ Roses charm in places, especially the intro. It’s a clear fan favourite with an enthusiastic reception; Bouvier approving of the crowd’s participation playfully kicks out at guitarist Sébastien Lefebvre. ‘Your Love Is A Lie’, the solitary cut from the band’s eponymous third studio release, strays into the gentler side of Green Day territory. Mirrorball coruscant shimmerings dapple the arena in the twin-engined pocket rocket ‘Nothing Changes’ carved from last year’s band documentary.
The acoustic tones of ‘Welcome To My Life’ bring about a downturn of pace and a spot of variance. The dreary autumnal weather outside is dispelled as beach balls bounce about the arena during the sun-kissed shores of ‘Summer Paradise’. It’s all very pleasant and professionally despatched but I can’t help but musing upon that it’s just a bit too safe in its nature for me. This isn’t the edgier elements of Rancid or Bad Religion for example but SP’s crisp, sleek lines do however work to some extent on a personal level and tidily contrast with what’s to follow.
The middle-school punk of ‘Loser of the Year’ rattles teenage chains ahead of an army of Scooby Doo’s invading the stage for the mayhemic ‘What’s New, Scooby Doo?’ A smidgeon of grit and grime is injected by the snarling pop punker ‘Where I Belong’. Drummer Comeau swaps with Bouvier as he takes leave to get up close and personal with Cardiff for the boisterous lament of debut single ‘I’m Just a Kid’.
Another early single follows with Bouvier picking up an acoustic guitar to bring in the set-closing ‘Perfect’ to provide a symmetrical bookend to matters. Phone lighters illuminate all about as the track’s gentle strains delight a good percentage of the rammed arena. As track-ending confetti cannons explode Lefebvre produces a final two hand heart to salute Cardiff and express a collective gratitude.
“It’s a big, big number!” declares Offspring six-stringer Kevin ‘Noodles’ Wasserman before carrying on to ‘confirm’ “It’s a million people, 1,315,393 here tonight!” His long-term sidekick and sole remaining founding member Bryan ‘Dexter’ Holland smiles wryly and makes his own declaration. “You’re full of shit!” he notes; the banter between these two bandmates stems from 40 years of rocking at one another’s sides.
A closeness that cannot be purchased, a closeness evolved from a partnership longer than a lot of marriages. With an emphatic understanding Dexter and Noodles are the core of the latter day The Offspring. Their sense of fun and enjoyment is palpable and can be felt before they step on stage in a jam-packed interval. It’s incredibly rare to give mention to the period of time ‘tween bands but the action pack antics of this evening’s intermission are worthy of such.
The Offspring blimp takes to the arena to ‘Sheena Is A Punk Rocker’, dropping picks as it goes, displaying the message “Mission Fuck Yeah!” on its side screens. Gorilla Guy is mobile in the arena with a quest to find a lucky pair of winners for the ‘seat upgrade’ whilst the crowd singalong to The Beastie Boys and Mötley Crüe. T-shirts are catapulted out into the ranks before our large ape friend leads Cardiff in singing A-Ha’s ‘Take On Me’ at top volume.
It’s party-time for sure with the twin video screens being utilised to full effect with Look-a-like cam, Headbang cam and an inevitable Kiss cam entertaining the massed throng until AC/DC’s ‘Thunderstruck’ heralds the arrival of the band. The quintet gathers stage right until “Gotta keep them separated!” marks the initial storming of the bastion with the explosive punk crossover ‘Come Out and Play’, with its rockabilly underpinning, set a high benchmark. The first charting single of the band’s career is most certainly a “Fuck yeah!” opening manoeuvre.
With inhuman kinetics the raw rasping buzzsaw of ‘All I Want’ seamlessly follows. The arena seethes and muscles as the frenetic commencement rollicks along already in top gear. Drummer Brandon Pertzborn seems intent on hammering his kit through the floor of riser and stage during the rapid artillery of UK top 20 single ‘Want You Bad’. Mosh pits break out across the arena with the harmonies and vocals razor-sharp.
Noodles is nonchalant and supercool as ever whilst Dexter bustles energetically. The former observes “This can’t be Monday night” with the latter concluding “Noones going to work tomorrow, they’re leaving it on the floor!” ahead of slipping into the mayhemic ‘Looking Out For #1’, the cue for a rampant Gorilla Guy to indulge in a spot of crowd surfing. The hyper punky grit of ‘Staring at the Sun’, with the stage aptly bathed in yellow hues, cranks up the pace even further.
The sprightly ‘Hit That’ is masterfully spliced together with the volcanic ‘Original Prankster’; the latter quite possibly one of the coolest tracks ever unleashed in my humble opinion. After all, according to the track, fire always makes it better and here it elevates the arena’s roof effortlessly.
A pair of giant torsos inflate either side of the stage as the thunder heralds the tempest of ‘Hammerhead’. It’s probably the closest we get to metal this evening with an underpinning that’s undeniably Motörhead amidst the circling rage; it’s little wonder that multi-instrumentalist Jonah Nimoy’s fret skills are required to bolster Noodles and Dexter out front. There’s surfing and moshing aplenty as fan holds up a banner reading “Thanks for giving me a voice” something bassist Todd Morse notices and, indeed, acknowledges in the following surf-punk themed ‘Make It All Right’.
An ultra-paced ‘Bad Habit’ hotfoots it into the Welsh capital city inciting a vast outbreak of moshing. So much so that the band break to applaud the efforts before ‘checking in’ on the numbers out there in the sold-out crowd. Completing the powerage The Offspring then take time to pay their respects to Ozzy with a smoking coupling of ‘Paranoid’ and ‘Crazy Train’.
The covers continue with an Offspring-freakout slamming in a stunning amped up rendition of Greig’s ‘In The Hall of the Mountain King’ prior to veering off on a completely different tangent to hit right between the eyes with The Ramones’ anthem ‘I Wanna Be Sedated’. Morse’s bass rumbles to bring in the strongarm ‘Gotta Get Away’ and its nod towards grunge icons Nirvana.
Dry ice billows as stagehands position a pristine white grand piano centrally in readiness for Dexter to deliver a spinetingling version of ‘Gone Away’. Stripped back there’s more than just a delicate fringing of the Tears For Fears classic ‘Mad World’ and its most welcome from my perspective. The resultant output is both striking and poignant as a sea of phone lights illuminate.
Dexter remains at the keys for a rousing singalong of ‘Hey Jude’ replete with raucous “Na-Na-Nas”. Far more stimulating than McCartney’s insipid despatch of this track at 1990’s Knebworth Festival it’s a magical moment. The reggae tousled ‘Why Don’t You Get A Job?’ ignites carnival-style and paves the way for the legend of ‘Pretty Fly (for a White Guy). Inspired by Def Leppard’s ‘Rock of Ages’ the intro line “Gunter, Gleiben, Glauchen, Globen” induces citywide structural damage. The masterclass continues with the moshtastic ‘The Kids Aren’t Alright’ that amidst the pugilistic punk takes a bow in the direction of Magazine’s ‘Shot By Both Sides’. It’s as rampant an avalanche as we’re going to witness for a good, good while.
There’s time and fuel in the tank for a couple more with the memo ‘Dance Fucker, Dance’ being delivered by the blimp during the utterly riotous and joyous ‘You’re Gonna Go Far, Kid’. Another strike between the opticals and with a lusty round of “La, la, laaa” Cardiff erupts into a writhing mass one final time for the pogoing set-closing ‘Self Esteem’. It’s been a blinding near couple of hours being bewitched by The Offspring; any chance they can return next year so we can do it all again? Bloody hope so!
Photography by Tijs van Leur
