The Snarl And The Ache

By CHRISTOPHER JOHN FARLEY

The best punk albums, the ones that stay with you, the ones that matter, share a secret. Take Rancid's strong new album, Life Won't Wait. Rancid is a band that, in its songs, inhabits a tough, gritty world of drinking, joblessness, back-alley drug deals and disillusioned immigrants; a world where corporations crush workers, governments lie to their citizens, and punk rock offers one of the few paths toward salvation. The songs on the California-based band's new album have names like Bloodclot, Black Lung and Cash, Culture & Violence; the guitar work is raw and roaring; and the quartet's two singer-guitarists, scraggly-voiced Tim Armstrong and bellowing Lars Frederiksen, both tend to slur and snarl their way through songs.

Rancid, like the Clash before it, often looks toward the Caribbean for rhythmic inspiration; on this album the group wisely enlisted the help of Jamaican reggae star Buju Banton, who contributes guest vocals on the anthemic title track, Life Won't Wait. In the past Rancid's songs have dealt with issues of class and race in America; this album seems to have more of a global viewpoint, with lyrics that touch on Bosnia, Iran-contra and other foreign affairs. The real message, however, is in the insurgent energy of the music, the hammering drums, the fierce guitars: Resist, question, don't sell out, don't give in.

But here's the secret: the best punk bands are, underneath everything, closet romantics. They're in love with the loveless, the outcasts, the unredeemed; they have aching hearts, but from the perspective of a true punk, it seems false and foolish to sing openly of love in such a sullied world. So tender emotions are hidden, which makes their hearts ache all the more. The Clash's album London Calling contained one of rock's best love songs, Train in Vain, but it was hidden away, buried as an unlisted track. On this album the song Corazon de Oro gives us a brief glimpse into singer Armstrong's heart. "What have I become/ Now that I'm alone?" he croons, his voice shattered and whispery. After an album of rage and hurt and politics, he's earned the right to be heartsick.

--By Christopher John Farley