Sublime – Robbin’ The Hood – Review


Robbin’ The Hood (Skunk)
by Nik Rainey

Okay, all you pale mewling skeezixes in the fixed spheres of Modern Rock – you can stop your droolings about “cred”, originality, et-copulating-cetera. Time to face the burning klieg-light of truth and the truth is – there is no such thing as original white-boy music. There never was. Trace the tree from which your pullulating sap comes down to the roots and you’ll find that the soil is not only rich, but as black as the three of clubs (or however that expression goes). It’s called musical miscegenation, babe, and there’s nary a worthwhile band of any stripe out there that doesn’t have a grain or more of negritude coursing through their bleached-out veins. The big prob is to most of the Clorox-faced combos that try and sip straight from the source rather than filtering it through the white rip-off artists of epochs past come off like the condescending caucasians with burnt-cork faces that they are.

Sublime, blessedly, is not one of those bands. First off, they’re upfront about the second-hand nature of their sound (check out the album title). Secondly, they know the one trick that Whitey can pull off properly – hybridization. Like the better artists today, they excel at juxtaposition; there’s rap, blues, dub reggae, good ol’ punk, and even lo-fi in the mixed weave of the 23 tracks here. They jump from one to the other like a tweaked teen with a thumb on the remote. The result is fun, surprising, and never an insult to the originals. I’d rant ‘n’ rave further ’bout the joyously profane spoken interludes, the Doors samples, etc., but screw it, I’m not about to squelch your thrills more than I already have. Pick it up, put it on, and pop a 40 for me, boyyyeee.