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What can you say about 40 Oz. to Freedom?  It’s reggae.  It’s burn-down-the-garage punk in spots.  It’s rock and roll.  It has a crash pad in the town over from ska.  Covers of Toots & the Maytals and the Grateful Dead?  Check.  Infectious electric-rhythm-reggae guitar over horns and samples of porn and reefer movies?  Check.  Blue-collar tales about struggling bar-band dudes getting through life in SoCal?  Check.

40 Oz. To Freedom doesn’t feel structured at all, and that’s the brilliance of it.  This record always felt like Brad Nowell & co. showed up wasted and regurgitated 22 incredible tracks in about 2 ½ days.  This was always my favorite Sublime record and it is absolutely fucking effortless.  It’s a landmark and it doesn’t take itself too seriously.  Blending reggae and punk wasn’t anything new (see The Clash, etc.), but Sublime was more.  Sublime was different.  40 Oz. To Freedom was the beginning.

As sunny as Sublime could be, there’s an honesty and self-deprecating brutality just under the surface that you can’t shake when you listen to 40 Oz.  That leads to a familiarity, almost like listening to this record makes you one of their buddies.  That’s not an easy thing to do.  And the Don’t Push / 54-46 That’s My Number / Ball and Chain / Badfish section will still knock your socks off over a decade later.

Ramones Division:  Sublime is tough to categorize.  But they’re raw, and songs like “We’re Only Gonna Die For Our Arrogance” are as punk as it gets.

Honorable Mention:  Dr. Dre – The Chronic

 


Comments

Theresa
01/06/2010 13:10

Talk about honesty and brutality I remember when the lead singer died of a herion overdose a couple years after this album came out.

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