The Descendents didn’t set out to become heroes of punk rock–if anything, they came together to earnestly troll it. The California group seemed innocent enough when they formed in the late ‘70s: four guys from Manhattan Beach playing cheeky hardcore songs about coffee, crushes, and hating your parents. Compared to their macho peers in the then-booming Golden State scene (Black Flag, TSOL, Fear, and the like) the Descendents struck most punks as unthreatening, maybe even a little bit soft–and that was the point, as frontman Milo Aukerman so passionately argued on a song titled (wait for it) “I’m Not a Punk:” “Show me the way to conformity,” he sneers, smirking at the beefcakes, “Try to be different but it’s always the same.” The self-proclaimed outcasts went on to achieve great success, releasing a slew of great albums over the next three decades that proved, once and for all, that the loser always got the last laugh–and more importantly, outlasted the competition.
Rumors of a new Descendents LP began to surface in 2010, when the band reunited for a set at Fun Fun Fest, followed shortly thereafter by a smattering of shows. At the time, frontman Milo Aukerman insisted that the gigs were mere “one-off shows” assimilated into into his summer vacations—one of the many perks of his lesser-known career as a biologist—but the the hype machine had already left the station. Before long, Aukerman put his academic pursuits on the back bunsen-burner to pursue music full-time. The quartet finally confirmed their reunion this past June by formally announcing *Hypercaffium Spazzinate—*their first LP in over 12 years, as well as the follow-up to 2004’s Cool to Be You. As with all Descendents records, the 16-track effort avoids over-aggression or extensive political chatter, instead relying on humor, honesty, and personal experience to power their musical and thematic engines, with considerable success.
The Descendents have come a long way from the spastic hardcore of their Milo Goes to College days—and not just because all four members are in their fifties. Even after over three caffeine-fueled decades of shouting himself hoarse and belittling the elitist attitudes of his fellow punks, Aukerman remains tethered to the band’s sonic and thematic cornerstones: reliability, universality, and of course, satire. Fortunately for the diehards, Hypercaffium Spazzinate is devoid of the stylistic overindulgence or inflated self-importance often associated with hiatus-ending efforts; the Descendents continue to focus on food, friends, family, and just about everything besides perfunctory political tropes—the only difference is their unprecedentedly mature perspectives on these topics, informed by the members’ experiences with aging, fatherhood, loss, and illness.
“No Fat Burger,” for instance, revisits and rebukes the gluttonous revelry of 1981’s “I Like Food.” Where the latter song sung the praises of “juicy burgers, greasy fries, turkey legs,” the new song chronicles a gastronomic break-up: “Can’t have no m0re juicy burgers/Can’t have no more greasy fries/Doctor took my lipid profile/He told me I’m barely alive.” Meanwhile, on “Limiter,” Aukerman uses nostalgia to accent his laments about society’s mounting tendencies to treat conditions like ADHD with pills (or “limiters,” as he calls them). “Whatever happened to drug-free youth?” he asks. “What’s to become of our sons, what can we do?”
Sobering lyrical themes aside, Hypercaffium Spazzinate is hardly the work of a band with their brows frozen in a collective furrow. It doesn’t matter if they’re grappling with self-hatred (“Fighting Myself”), toxic masculinity (“Testosterone,” which sees Aukerman railing against “fuckin’ dicks who beat [their] chests”, only to request a shot of the titular chemical so he can prove that he “has what it takes” to be a man), or intolerant Bible Thumpers (“Shameless Halo”)—the band charge through the pain as if it’s an excuse for pleasure, or at the very least, rudimentary, sugary pop-punk that puts the Warped crowd to shame. Stephen Egerton keeps his guitar riffs jagged and melodic, buoyed by Karl Alvarez’s staccato bounce; behind it all, Bill Stevenson wields his drum kit as an invaluable dynamic tool, switching between leisurely 4/4 and pugnacious double-time in order to emphasize his bandmates’ carefully-calibrated fury. Aukerman’s piercing tenor has withstood the test of time; apart from a slightly more limited range and a raspier delivery, he’s as impassioned as ever, pushing himself to the brink on lead single “Victim of Me” because he’s got absolutely nothing to lose.
Like the Descendents themselves, Hypercaffium Spazzinate has zero interest in flashy instrumentals or thematic grandeur. The album’s closer, “Beyond the Music,” frames the Descendents’ existence as an offshoot of a timeless friendship, rather than a career: “Frustrato-rock or chainsaw pop/Or whatever it is we play/This is our family/And it will always be this way.” Whether the track’s intended as the band's pre-emptive eulogy or a statement of renewed commitment is up for debate, but such postulation’s besides the point. Even for a bunch of brainiacs, these four Californians have always stressed the importance of living in the moment, sticking together, and keeping it simple—nothing more, and nothing less.
