After 25 years in the game, NOFX are still going and are still as bratty as ever, sneering as they tackle their favorite subjects: drinking ("The Quitter," "I Am an Alcoholic," "First Call"), anti-religion ("Best God in Show," "Blasphemy [The Victimless Crime]"), and anti-patriotism ("We Called It America," "Suits and Ladders"). Nothing new there, but along with well-trodden themes of partying, agnosticism, and clever observations about their scene, there's a big departure this time around that comes in the form of "My Orphan Year." Fat Mike is at his most confessional in a rare, sincere, Barbara Walters moment, wherein he opens up his journal to the dark days with remorseful lyrics about the death of his parents. He reveals himself as a true sad-faced clown tormented by inner demons more than a few times on Coaster, admitting, "I didn't try pot 'til I was 21 but now I'm overcompensating" and "My friends are telling me that I need to find a clinic, but I won't, cuz I'm a drug-addicted alcoholic." Life as a pill-popping punk rocker might be taking its toll with age, but when the mood is light, Mike and the group are as funny as ever. Prior to a song about the breakup of Iron Maiden ("Bruce, Eddie, and Paul"), complete with dueling guitar harmonies and a pretty bad Bruce Dickinson impersonation, there's an autobiographical account (probably) of first meeting and talking about Jennifer Tilly with either Tegan or Sara (Mike couldn't tell) of Tegan and Sara, before spooking her severely with talk of drugs and sex ("Creeping Out Sara"). As a whole, it's not one of their best records, considering the size of their discography, but it's not a bad little record. Fans will like it since the band is still shining as a tight unit and hasn't lost a step musically, but at the same time, if shoppers are also considering Backstage Pass, the NOFX tour documentary DVD released around the same time, that packs more bang for the buck in the extras alone. ~ Jason Lymangrover, All Music Guide
Although Wolves in Wolves' Clothing starts off with a promising bang, NOFX loses footing halfway in and stumbles downhill for the rest of the record. Maybe it shouldn't be a surprise when the first line of the amusing opening track proclaims, "I'm not here to entertain you...I'm here because old habits die hard/And seriously what else am I supposed to do?" But even so, expectations were pretty high coming into the album off their smartly wry EP Never Trust a Hippy, which was released a month earlier. Beginning well enough, the first half of Wolves is full of super-tight, tongue-in-cheek punk rock antics that make one think and laugh at the same time. "Seeing Double at the Triple Rock" is a seriously fun tune with charging guitar riffs that usher in drunken good times over at Dillinger Four guitarist Erik Funk's popular Minnesotan social club. NOFX's unabashed distaste for George W. and his cronies emerges blatantly in the thick bass of "USA-holes" and less outwardly in the bouncy, country-ish saunter of "The Man I Killed." Fat Mike also addresses the war in Iraq differently than just outright attacking the government -- a junkie friend successfully cleans himself up by joining the Army, only to later get killed in "Benny Got Blowed Up." Serious topics (including many attacks on overzealous Bible-thumpers) tempered with NOFX's trademark sarcastic nature soon become much shorter and less fun near the album's middle. The trouble isn't that the songs are just short -- quick in-and-out blasts are normally quite satisfying -- it's that these tunes just seem unfinished or plain forgettable. A few exceptions appear, like the brash "100 Times F*ckeder" or the sentimental quasi-elegy to friends lost over the years in "Doornails," but it's not enough to make the hodgepodge feeling of filler songs near the end disappear. Thus, Wolves in Wolves' Clothing simply lacks that cohesive sense of being an entire album to enjoy. It's not that NOFX have lost their ability to offend, mock, challenge, and entertain in one sardonic, glistening package. Just the opposite, actually: over two decades old, the band really sounds as tight, relevant, and sharp as ever. It's just that the second half seems a bit lazy overall, which makes the inherent lack of fun all the more frustrating. ~ Corey Apar, All Music Guide
War on Errorism, NOFX's umpteenth collection of snide skatecore, is a half-great collection of the bratty double-time anthems dominated by Fat Mike's snotty, sarcastic vocals. But while the album bristles with broad political criticism, it also lays out rhetoric that seems to present an isolationist punk rock policy of its own. Included with War on Errorism is the trailer for Unprecedented, a documentary that traces the bizarre events of the 2000 presidential election. This is accompanied by a handwritten op-ed piece by Fat Mike, Smelly, El Hefe, and Melvin, in which the band does a little consciousness raising around the vert ramp. "The U.S. is now the butt of a worldwide joke," they write, in reference to the election hullabaloo. "All everyone keeps saying is 'get over it' or 'that was so two years ago.' Well, we're not getting over it and neither should you." Musically, NOFX fuses its political cynicism with criticism of punk rock itself, and suggests that the best thing for all the kids and the bands might be to close ranks and start their own little hardcore community. "Irrationality of Rationality" and "Franco Un-American" -- two of the album's most melodic, catchy songs -- are also two of War on Errorism's most biting commentaries. The first personalizes the trickle-down effect of corporate decision-making over a lockstep hardcore rhythm; the second gets all new wavy as Fat Mike reasons out his own world view, and somehow rhymes "apathy" with "Noam Chomsky." While NOFX makes its politics clear throughout the album, it also has ideas and questions about its own scene. "Separation of Church and Skate" wonders about the homogeny of punk in the 21st century, and the loss of danger in rock & roll. Later, "Mattersville" presents the blueprint for a California hardcore retirement community, a neighborhood of punks, where the cops can't come in and there's always beer and cheese. It's a fantasy, an update of Screeching Weasel's "Punkhouse." But it might also be a reaction to the heady subjects bandied about in War on Errorism's activist moments. In a subdivision surrounded by bands, punks, and skaters, no one would have to worry about bombs, evildoers, and those who put the "mock" back in "democracy" (from the seething "Re-gaining Unconsciousness"). War on Errorism is long on rhetoric, but it still fires off a few uncontrolled bursts of NOFX humor. "She's Nubs" is a crass yet sadly hilarious tribute to a handicapped fan; "Medio-core" channels the Dead Milkmen as it rips on rock & roll's ongoing regurgitation. The songs don't exactly jibe with War on Errorism's more serious sections. But if NOFX suddenly became all serious, America might really have a problem on its hands. ~ Johnny Loftus, All Music Guide
Longtime fans of independent punk giants NOFX will be happy that for Pump Up the Valuum the band changed absolutely nothing about their sound. All the songs follow the group's now standard three-chord punk style with witty songs that rip on the world around them. The most notable tracks are those that take aim at the music business. "Dinosaurs Will Die" is about the impending change in the music industry with the MP3 explosion, while "Stanger Than Fishin'" (an obvious knock on former label mates Bad Religion's song "Stranger Than Fiction") goes after industry phonies. The album also contains some of the band's signature gross-out tunes "Lousie" and "My Vagina." While not as good as Punk in Drublic or The Longest Line, it should satisfy most punk fans' cravings. ~ Curtis Zimmermann, All Music Guide
The mildly offensive album art -- essentially, it's a play on the album's title -- disguises the fact that NOFX's punk rock is hardly breaking new ground. Taking the heavy guitar attack of the Sex Pistols and melding it with the us-against-them mentality of mid-'80s American hardcore, NOFX sounds like a conservative punk band with metal leanings. As an expression of adolescent rage, however, Heavy Petting Zoo serves its purpose -- it's basically a barrage of heavy riffs and gut-busting bellowing. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
NOFX's lo-fi debut is routine, mid-'80s SoCal punk in the vein of the Descendants and other bratty, mile-a-minute punk bands; while most of the sonic characteristics that later defined the group's sound (including Bad Religion-influenced vocal harmonies) are missing, Maximum Rock'n'Roll proves that NOFX's goofball humor was in effect from day one (see "Six Pack Girls," "Cops and Donuts," and "Shitting Bricks"). Perhaps best of all is the band's cover of Black Sabbath's "Iron Man." The liner notes include a June 1991 Maximum Rock 'n' Roll interview with Fat Mike, in which he gives props to bands like Snuff and Green Day. Amusing and historically interesting, but only for serious fans. ~ Andy Hinds, All Music Guide
With their 1994 album Punk in Drublic, NOFX truly hit their stride. The quartet didn't change their approach at all -- at their core, they remain a heavy, speed-addled, hook-conscious post-hardcore punk group -- but their songwriting has improved, as has their attack. Prior to this record, they merely showed promise, but with Punk in Drublic they fulfilled their potential. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide