The Descendents were about as fun as American hardcore got in the early ‘80s, for instead of ranting about the same stale talking points which literally every single other hardcore band was composing elegies about (i.e. the police state, racism, poverty, et al), these guys wrote about average Joe, day-to-day bullshit---parents, girls, school, even fishing for fuck’s sake! Frankly, being a current homeowner in the suburbs (HELL), this song has taken on an entirely new sense of painful sincerity since listening to it as an angsty teenager; I ain’t got no shame though, fuck that, homes in the ‘burbs are cheap…but they do kinda hit the nail on the head when they say, “…I don’t want no hippie pad, I want a house just like mom & dad”. Ouch.
