#OFFSPRINGS GIVE IT TO ME BABY LICENSE#

Our relationship to ‘Pretty Fly…’ might have changed but can we blame a song because we grew out of it? Absolutely not.īecause how you feel about ‘Pretty Fly…’ is still worth exploring. We can’t wax lyrical about the timeless, beautiful, nostalgic stuff and then shy away when we feel awkward.Īt one point in history, it meant so much that a bunch of young Australians chose it as their favourite song of the year. Getting old sucks.īut my point is, these are the questions the music from our past forces us to ask ourselves. You don’t express your identity through music anymore, you have Instagram for that. In Defence Of Mark Morrison's 'Return Of The Mack' But now you don’t want to be in the club that bags out wannabes, because being a wannabe is okay now. Or it could make you uncomfortable because it reminds you that you once strived for authenticity.

It could mean your taste has developed, you’ve realised who you are, and you feel uncomfortable with the thought you needed direction from a popular song like ‘Pretty Fly…’. The reality is ‘Pretty Fly…’ hasn’t changed, you have. Just like the naive white guy, does the music know what or who it’s meant to be? Maybe that was the point.

#OFFSPRINGS GIVE IT TO ME BABY LICENSE#

But their license to use these disjointed elements is valid, because they reflect the song's meaning. Yes, it means this song stands out from their catalogue. These are are all things that the band had barely flirted with before. The counting in different languages, the offbeat guitar jabs in the verse, using female voices, the extra percussion which was inspired by Latin American rhythms. If punk is built on reaction and protest, what could be more punk than messing with your proven formula for success? Musically and philosophically, ‘Pretty Fly…’ was an extension of what The Offspring set out to do: pop punk. The Offspring's Smash - Dexter Holland opens up about the life-changing record By 1998, they had already sold millions of records. ‘Pretty Fly…’ is not the point at which The Offspring ‘sold out’. A few years later the Limp Bizkit frontman could be mistaken for the backwards-baseball-cap-wearing white guy from the ‘Pretty Fly…’ film clip. The Offspring were observing the world around them and possibly something more sinister: Fred Durst. And one of the worst things you could be was a ‘wannabe’, someone who pretended to be something they weren’t. If you were a teenager in the 90s you might not have known who you were yet, but ‘Pretty Fly…’ gave instruction for what not to be. Back then, we related to ‘Pretty Fly…’ because authenticity mattered. Over the years though, it seems this use of irony has been lost.īut 20 years ago we were all in on the joke, and it felt good. It mirrors the protagonist - out of line, awkward, and cringeworthy. While the verses serve as commentary, this hook is sung from the point of view of a man who does not know his place. The infamous ‘ give it to me baby’ refrain – which is both infectious and on the surface, immature –is dripping in irony.

Specifically, he is misappropriating black American hip hop culture. He’s in denial: ‘ In his own mind, he’s the dopest trip’. Listen closely to the lyrics, or watch the film clip again, and its story is obvious: this is a song about identity.Ī young, white man is lying to himself about who he is. One of the key challenges of ‘Pretty Fly…’ is that, over the years, the context and meaning of the song has faded.

Offsprings give it to me baby