Offspring have discovered the ultimate showstopper for a rowdy, punk audience - pull out the '60s hippie tunes.

Fans heading to the Guvernment Saturday may already know what to expect from the California punk group's latest hippie-sounding album, Americana. But concertgoers in L.A. didn't know what hit them last summer before the record was released. "They're not used to us doing that meditative stuff, but we thought we'd mess around with them and start off with Pay The Man," says lead guitarist Ken Wasserman, whose punk name is Noodles. He's lounging in a downtown hotel chair with chains looped through his belt, and a T-shirt emblazoned with the red-lettered caveat: Satan Inside. Singer-songwriter Bryan Holland, aka Dexter, sits beside Noodles, his platinum-spiked head nodding in agreement.

And Pay The Man? It's the last song on Americana's 14-track album. It's eight minutes of Middle Eastern guitar solos, with cymbals and whimsical harmonies. Think Beatles in the hippie hey-day of Strawberry Fields. "We've got Beatles, The Who, The Doors. Geez, we're hippies," says Wasserman.

One thing's certain, Americana may be Offspring's most quirky departure from punk yet. In their earlier albums, Smash and Ixnay On The Hombre, they dabbled with funk, ska and gypsy-style reels. The latest album has more orchestration and even synthesized kettle drums. "It's our fifth album," Holland says, "We decided it was about time we experimented with other things."

Those things include an in-depth survey of American culture (hence Americana) through punk's cynical eyes. Offspring's take on America from the '50s through '90s includes songs about incest, unemployment and suicide. But don't get all nostalgic - there's also a hate-rant version of the '70s lounge-hit Feelings. "We were pretty surprised, but Feelings adapted itself really well for punk. It's a blast to play live."

Neo-lounge punk? Wait, it gets weirder. Crack off the plastic backing for the CD, and hidden inside you'll find a picture of a giant roach feeding a child's shoe to its mate. The image is that much grimmer when you remember these are the same shoes the rosy-cheeked Campbell's kid is wearing on the CD cover. "We loved the artwork," Holland enthuses about pop-artist Frank Kozik's illustrations for the CD. "He's got it dead-on. In a way, it's like our approach to the album," Holland continues. "There are nice glossy American kids on the cover but you're conscious of something evil lurking within."

But the most chilling image is of a young boy bending down to pick up a gun left beside a garbage can. It illustrates the song, The Kids Aren't Alright, a lament for kids who grow up in a tough neighbourhood.

Holland wanted to give fans something to identify with, because he grew up listening to neighbourhood bands like The Adolescents and Social Distortion. "They gave you something to relate to. We wanted the album to look at the individual in a crazy messed-up world."

By Dawn Tam, from Toronto Sun - December 3, 1998