It has been, what, six years since Tim and company released something under the Rancid banner. I've been a fan for going on 20 years now, and I have been eagerly awaiting the release. I have been waiting since Branden was talking on twitter about going back into the studio in 2013. Amazon had it as scheduled for earlier in the year and then they cancelled it. I had it preordered in like April.
I listened to the first three songs and I liked them.
I then had it on my doorstep as I cam home on Monday. I put it on my turntable and listened to it through, flipping it and then the extra 7" that came with my preorder. As I sat there, I had sense of deja vu, where I was 16 again, walking through the summer streets feeling invincible. But there was a corner of sadness; that sixteen-year-old no longer exists. There are bills to be paid and chores that had to be done. I put the CD in my car, replacing the new Sick of It All that has been on permanent play for the last three weeks.
A new Rancid album is an event, and each song is to be treasured. The songs sound like Rancid songs. If you took this album and played it to that kid who first heard the ...Wolves tape when he was 12 and fell for the sound, he would recognize the sound, and Tim's voice and Matt's Bass. But there is something missing. The sneer of Journey to the East Bay is missing. There's a mellowness that pervades, even in the bouncy sing-alongs. Maybe Rancid's gotten older. I know I have. I like the album, but it's just not what I want it to be. I just don't know what that is.
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