Las Vegas Sun

March 28, 2024

Offspring continues to grow through turmoil

Headlines have shrunk, the big guns have cooled their fire and the teams of lawyers have packed their cases for another day's battle. Yes, the war between the multiplatinum Offspring and the Sony Corp. has come to settlement. Instead of making the entirety of the band's latest album, "Conspiracy Of One," available to all as a free download on the Web, all parties have agreed that the single "Original Prankster" is enough. Surf on over to offspring.com to get yours.

"Conspiracy Of One," released in November, is platinum, far from damaged by the free downloadable single, and one more massive tour is being launched before the Offspring takes some well-deserved time off.

The band's usual spokesman, Brian "Dexter" Holland has hung up that role for the moment and original founding member, bass player, Greg Kriesel (aka the Bill Wyman of the band) has been sent to meet the press.

If one follows the traditional Offspring lore, the novelty/punk band was born in 1984 when, by chance, all four members met at a Social Distortion concert, where they were awestruck with a vision of their own future and immediately started a band.

Not quite so, says Kriesel, who was in high school at the time. "The Social Distortion show had nothing to do with it. I think some publicist made up the story. Actually the show (at UC Irvine's Crawford Hall) was sold out and we couldn't even get in.

"I guess it could have been any night, but we went home that night and decided to start a band."

Of that lineup only Holland and Kriesel remain.

Kriesel, who holds a degree in finance from Long Beach State University has lived in Orange County, Calif., all of his life. He was born in Huntington Beach, Calif., and, similar to most of his fellow Offspringers, went to school in Garden Grove, Calif.

Kriesel had hacked around a bit on guitars before the band started, but didn't take music seriously until the Offspring (then called Manic Subsidal) was launched.

"We divvied up the instruments and (by default) I went out and bought a bass and learned how to play," Kriesel said.

A year later guitarist Kevin "Noodles" Wasserman joined up, leaving behind a promising career as a school custodian.

By 1986 Manic Subsidal released its first single on the group-owned Black Vinyl label, changed its name to the Offspring, and added drummer Ron Welty.

In 1989 the group signed to Nemesis/Cargo, a San Diego indie label, then moved up to Epitaph in '92 eventually selling more than 600,000 copies of the "Ignition" album.

This led to "Smash," which sold an unprecedented 11 million copies worldwide and put Epitaph on the map as the most successful indie label of all time.

Fat from the sales and royalties, Kriesel and Holland decided to give a helping hand to their buddies in the band Guttermouth by launching Nitro Records in 1995.

Kriesel recalls, "Guttermouth were having problems with their record company and looking for somebody to put out their next album. So we thought, 'Hey! We can afford to do this. And maybe we can do a better job then the other (label) was doing.' "

By 1997 Offspring needed the marketing muscle that only a major label can provide. It signed with Columbia and immediately delivered the album with "Ixnay On The Hombre" selling another 3 million copies. "Americana," in '98 with its clever, Latin-juiced novelty single "Pretty Fly (For A White Guy)," shot past the 10 million mark and cemented Offspring as both a fixture on radio and MTV. And "Original Prankster" from the new album is getting the same kind of attention.

"Kids can relate to our music because we write about everyday stuff," says Kriesel, who, similar to Holland is now past 35. "I don't think we come off as old men yet."

Whether playing it tongue-in-cheek, or delving into darker songs such as "Denial Revisited" from the new album, the songwriting is really Holland's baby, with Kriesel, workman-like, holding down the bottom.

"Dexter pretty much writes the songs as a whole and I make the most out of the bass parts. What I do," Kriesel said, "is tinkering and refining. Sometimes Dex leaves me some hole like in the chorus of 'What You Bad.' But if I go in there and change things, that would be like changing his song.

"Sometimes I wish I could have a more creative part. But I can't complain about the success we've had. And after 17 years I'm used to my role."

Kriesel carries through in about the same passive mode onstage even referring to himself as "the boring guy."

"I'm more of the straight man," Kriesel says. "I feel comfortable just playing my instrument and making a statement that way. When the mosh pit starts getting out of hand and when the audience starts throwing a hale of trash onstage I'm usually the one that tries to rein things in."

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