You know, in hindsight, maybe working for a music magazine was a bad idea. I mean, I do get a batch of new music in the mail every couple of weeks, but on the other hand, not only do I have to listen to atrocities like "Splinter", I have to write a few hundred words about the experience. I'll have you know, sometimes I question whether it's worth it.

The Offspring are notable in that they had two good albums back in the mid-90s, but have failed utterly to produce anything compelling or pleasant since that time. "Splinter" follows that proud tradition with thirty minutes of juvenile, childish, generic punk-pop that utterly fails in having much redeeming value at all. The closest comparison that I can think up for this music is that it's like being kicked repeatedly in the scrotum while being forced to watch Roseanne Barr perform a striptease. Only worse than that.

If I haven't convinced you already to stay the hell away from this, let's examine the way that the band has skilfully employed the same template that they've used for the past few albums now. The mass-market pop song is here, in the form of Hit That, which continues in a dynasty of horror started by Pretty Fly (For A White Guy) and Original Prankster. Worst Hangover Ever is the predictable ska-punk crossover, and a batch of directionless garbage like Neocon, The Noose, and the embarrassingly horrible When You're In Prison.

Much like a splinter, this album is small yet annoying. In addition, it has pointy corners. I'm not quite sure how well a bunch of guys who must be at least in their early thirties can really relate to the young teenage audience that this CD is related to, but maybe I'm just old and jaded. What I do know, is even when the instrumentation bumps up a notch from "terrible" to "adequate", the whining, infantile lyrics of Dexter Holland spoil everything. How's this for poetry: "I'm not the one who acted like a ho/Why must I be the one who has to know?/I'm not the one who messed up big time/So spare me the details if you don't mind". Wow, I'm sure that Joe Strummer is turning in his coffin.

Like the second episode onwards of "The Nanny", The Offspring are an act that have stopped being funny. At least otherwise horrid albums like "Americana" had tracks like Get A Job which somewhat redeemed them. "Splinter" does not. The Offspring have been digging themselves into a hole for awhile now, but with the release of this album, the hole is distinctly beginning to look like a grave.