Rancid

Nobody puts an airplane on autopilot before it's about to crash. Then again, it makes some sort of twisted sense, seeing as what's about to happen is inevitable. Why not just sit back and enjoy the ride, right? Such can be the only explanation for this, Rancid's seventh full-length effort that is yet another fading carbon copy of the formula established on-wait for it-...And Out Come The Wolves, which they make a nod to on "I Ain't Worried" if you can believe it. Still, this is the most listless Rancid affair yet. Absent are any traces of enthusiasm, craftiness or, well, anything. From Tim Armstrong's incoherent babbling over tunes that sound like a harsh jumble of Transplants throwaways and shoddy ska through obvious pandering to some sort of radio set ("Last One To Die" is Rancid-only thanks to Armstrong's aforementioned toothless mumbles), Let The Dominoes Fall does just that: comes farting out of the speakers-belches take effort-without inspiration and just kind of shrugs while you really try to like it. In the end though, actually listening takes more effort than the band seems to have put into creating, it's so flat and obvious. If most people were this lazy at work, their next step would be towards the unemployment line. With their built-in cache though, Rancid almost shove it in our face that they can cruise along and we'll still be suckered in by that faux spray-painted logo.