Words by Kris Peters
Pix by Fozz Gibson Photography
The Offspring and their music – especially the album Smash – were highly influential in my developmental stages with music. That album was my transition between heavy metal and punk music that allowed me to appreciate both genres more and be less one-eyed when it came to my musical choices.
But I have never seen them live before! All that was about to be rectified when I walked into a sold-out Brisbane Entertainment Centre on a Wednesday night with no expectations except for a night of quality music.
But first, I had to get through Simple Plan, and, to be honest, I wasn’t looking forward to sitting through an hour of their music. For no reason other than the fact I (thought) I didn’t know any of their songs, and from the way the term ‘pop punk’ was bandied about whenever their name came up, there didn’t seem to be much appeal.
But I don’t mind occasionally admitting I am wrong on the rare moments it does occur. And, this is one of those rarities.
From the moment the lights went out – not dimmed, they just went out – and the strains of the majestic Star Wars theme song reverberated around the room, there was a sense of sonic magic in the air. There were two massive screens set up on either side of stage and one large screen behind the drum kit, and the stage screen splattered bright images of red which in turn spread across the dance floor and into the stands, illuminating the entire Entertainment Centre in a wash of red that was as devilish as it sounds.
Simple Plan bounded onto stage and didn’t stop bouncing for the next 60 minutes as they delivered an entertaining, and surprisingly upbeat set that at times had the crowd overwhelmed.
Sporting a Simple Plan Australian tour shirt, vocalist Pierre Bouvier had the crowd in the palm of his hands from the outset, jumping from side to side with reckless abandon and single out members of the crowd with a deft pointing of his finger. At one stage, he pointed in our direction, and the teenage girl sitting in front of us took it personally, sending her into fits of excitement that she carried through to the end of the night.
Apparently, the band has been coming out here roughly once a year since their first visit in the early 2000s, and you could tell by the massive swell of support that greeted the band’s every move.
At one stage he even called Scooby Doo to the stage for the track What’s New Scooby Doo, and instead of just one of our favourite four legged ghost hunters running out, about five of them appeared from nowhere, panting and splashing their way across stage for the duration of the song before heading back to the Mystery Van in search of more adventures.
The whole set felt like a live musical extravaganza of the American Pie movie franchise, which might explain why I knew way more of the songs than I thought I would.
Running through I’d Do Anything, Shut Up!, Jump, Welcome To My Life and Where I Belong, Simple Plan were the ultimate middle-aged teenagers, winding the clock back to a time where music was life and life was music.
The finale of Perfect was… ahem… the perfect way to finish the night, with the crowd as one singing back to Bouvier – except for me. Fucked if I am going to let anyone hear me say “sorry, I’m not perfect.“
Perhaps the standout performance of the night came from neither of the two bands playing, but the gap between them. Normally, the 30 minutes or so between support act and headliner is a torturous affair, watching the road crew strip down then reassemble the stage while anticipation lingers in the air and the clock seems to slow down to a crawl.
But not at a show put on by The Offspring.
As the soothing sounds of their own version of Intermission caressed from the speakers, The Offspring sent their blimp into orbit, floating not far above our heads as it zig-zagged across the room, dropping guitar picks haphazardly into the crowd. An unseen narrator chimed in at regular intervals, explaining what was happening as the camera attached to the blimp filmed sections of the crowd while other members of the crowd played games like Offspring Trivia that splashed across the big screens.
There was always something going on, distracting your eyes from stage as the crew scurried about readying for The Offspring, but when the fun games like Kiss Cam, Headbang Cam and the popular Booty Cam singled out sections of the crowd the usual flat feeling between bands had been impressibly replaced by a carnival like atmosphere that conitinued into the arrival on stage of the main act.
The big screens lit up as a camera swooped towards a closed dressing room door with THE OFFSPRING emblazoned across the front before pushing it open to reveal the band warming up and waving excitedly to the crowd. While this was happening, a countdown clock appeared at the top of the screens, with Thunderstruck by AC/DC roaring to life around the four-minute mark. What a fitting intro track!
Partway through Noodles struck a note on his guitar backstage, but must have sensed the wind change as the crowd silently protested at the intrusion. It’s AC/DC after all. Have some respect. As the clock hit the ten-second mark, the lights went out and a theatrical intro track began, complete with the sombre tones of a grand piano that suggested something ominous was approaching.
Then The Offspring burst to life with Come Out And Play, sending the crowd into raptures as they sang loudly and with gusto, drowning out vocalist Dexter Holland and reducing the band to mere spectators at their own party.
Which was lucky in some respects because for the first song and the follow-up Original Prankster, it seemed like Holland was having problems of sorts, the band playing a little too fast in sections that forced him to adjust his approach and falter slightly. A slight but noticeable snap in the vocal PA also threatened to disrupt proceedings, with Holland and Noodles seemingly wearing concrete boots as they went through the motions.
And then I Want You Bad started, slowly at first, but as it gathered momentum and drummer Brandon Pertzborn chimed in with a massive drum roll that pierced the atmosphere, the planets seemingly alligned and The Offspring had a renewed spring in their steps.
The sound cleared beautifully, and the band locked back into a rhythm as they suddenly came to life. The first of many confetti cannons spewed waves of paper into the crowd as skeletons slowly filled with breath on either side of the stage, inflating enough to hover menacingly over the drum kit and percussionist as the band tore into Make It Alright.
As the song finished, the band went silent momentarily as the lights flickered and a pre-recorded voice boomed over the speakers, “hey man, you know, I’m really okay”, and the crowd surged as one as The Offspring launched into Bad Habit.
Such was the ferocity of the song, Holland put down his guitar for the first time as the crowd jumped and the band cursed. It must have taken it out of the band – I know I was fucked half way through – because they stopped suddenly and the band members took turns walking to each corner of the stage and waving to different sections of the crowd. Holland pledged his love to fans for the support, and Noodles, suddenly finding voice, went on what was to be the first of a number of entertaining rants amid fits of laughter from the crowd.
Then the bass drum started thumping rhythmically, sweeping the band back into the moment of the song and as the tag line of “you stupid, dumb shit, God Damn motherfucker” approached Holland held aloft the microphone as the crowd screamed the words back at him, drowing out the stage and everything within a 500 meter radius.
After treating us to a medley of Smoke On The Water, Iron Man and Detroit Rock City, The Offspring offered up Gotta Get Away as the skeletons expelled the air from their lungs amid a short but tasty drum solo that tapered off by an even shorter guitar solo before silence.
The lights once more went out, and I almost thought something had happened to force a premature end to proceedings before a movement side of the stage caught my eye as the road crew once more scurried in the darkness.
They wheeled out a beautifully white piece of furniture that shone in the absence of light, and as the spotlights focused on the stage, it revealed Holland sat alone behind the piano. He introduced the next track, announcing he was “gonna do an old song in a different way”, telling the back story of the lyrics behind Gone Away and asking the crowd to turn on the lights on their mobile phones in memory of anyone close to them that may have been lost.
The crowd lit up with balls of individual sparks that collectively became a beacon of light while smoke billowed from the stage, adding an emotional component to an already deep song before the rest of the stage lights turned on, revealing the rest of the band as they sprang into action. The momentum shift in the song was as powerful as the performance, as beach balls flew into the crowd, bringing a moment of levity and respite to what could have easily turned the mood into a chasm of darkness.
Pierre Bouvier from Simple Plan jumped up to sing Why Don’t You Get A Job and I had to laugh at the ten-year-old boy sitting next to us as he glanced at his Father and sang the words “na, na, why don’t you get a job.” Give it five or six years, my little friend,d and it will be your Father screaming those words at you…
Spare Me The Details and Pretty Fly For A White Guy extracted the best crowd responses of the night, as two wacky inflatable men danced and gyrated on each side of the stage before The Offspring played The Kids Aren’t Alright and bade their farewells.
Even though it was obvious they would return with one or two more songs (and I bet Self Esteem was one of them) I have been to gigs at the Brisbane Entertainment Centre before and know from experience how much time leaving before the encore can cut off your already late trip home. Besides, I was done. I had gotten my fill of nostalgia, delivered by a band who throw one hell of a party and know how to celebrate the occassion in style.
