http://machinegunfunk.com/2008/09/17/opm-golden-state-of-mind/

OPM - Golden State of Mind
Suburban Noize (9/2/08)
Reggae (Dub / Ska) / Alternative / Rap

It seems strange to say that a group of tattooed white boys could play
reggae and be genuine, but sincerity is the name of OPM’s game. On
Golden State of Mind, these guys make absolutely no pose for what they
are. They spin yarns about partying and smoking weed over island grooves
informed by punk and hip-hop, under a blanket of skin art and skater
chic gear—they’re like understudies to Kottonmouth Kings.

The idiom in which a group like OPM could thrive probably died out in
2000 or so, but the band seems genuinely unconcerned with fitting into
the current skurban-emo zeitgeist. They’re unapologetic mooks, but the
catch is, they have a grasp on melody and mood to which the average
stoner-frat douchebags can’t even aspire. Very few artists (American or
Jamaican) who take their cues from reggae have swung as hard for the
fences as OPM do on Golden State of Mind.

The first few tracks are dub-soaked and purely melody-driven. Seeing the
band members on the back of this record, I generally assumed that they’d
be 90-percent a punk band in the CKY mode, with a few cursory dropout
beats and upstrokes to fake some reggae riddim (the tattoos and slouchy
pose, plus the Cali-centric themery and Dia de los Muertos inspired
cover art seemed to indicate one of the countless Skunk Records posers
that popped up after Sublime broke). I wasn’t expecting melodic dub that
isn’t concerned with pose or blind aggression. After the scratchy 2-tone
influenced opener “Feel the Vibration”, OPM make the bold move of
putting a light melodic track early on in their record: “Family &
Friends” stands like a gamut, daring any Slightly Stoopid fans to take a
chance on a song that could easily be by Sugar Ray. “Runaway” is
drenched in reverb and has an arena-sized sing-along chorus that
captures a cool young-love-on-the-run vibe; put this on at sunset after
you and your betrothed have finished a his-and-hers skate sesh and spark
up a blunt for optimum mood.

Any primarily Caucasian act repping the Jamaican style needs at least
one song per record extolling the virtues of cannabis—OPM’s “Tell Me
What You Want” has a sick rhyme scheme and a rolling riff that carries
the whole track. While non-smokers aren’t going to appreciate the
lyrical message, it’s undeniable that a groove is present. For those who
prefer their highs ingested nasally, OPM mix dancehall and geek-rap à la
Gym Class Heroes on “Dirty White”. Guests abound on this record: fellow
Suburban Noize rapper Big B appears on almost half the tracks, Sen Dog
of Cypress Hill assists on the requisite gangsta brag “Shoot ‘Em Up”,
Pato Banton on the outcast anthem “Square Peg”, and Northwestern rap
atrocity The Dirtball on the clubby, drab “Like That”. Other standouts
are the hypersexual porno-dub “Honey” and the stoner rock tinged “Addicted”.

It’s been said that one of the worst things to happen to rock is
culturalization—the broader the sphere of influence, the less real a
band seems. In an era where every hick from here to Frog Balls,
Arkansas, can hop on the Internet and hear almost anything ever
recorded, pretty much everyone is culturalized. The only way a band can
keep its music pure without choking under the weight of pretension and
influence is to take a genre and crawl inside it, trading any semblance
of shame or marketability for the standpoint that if you like a style,
you should try and make the best songs of that genre possible. While OPM
don’t stand much of a chance of breaking wider than the pre-existing
trustafarian fanbase that other white reggae-ish bands enjoy, anyone who
already drinks that particular Kool-Aid should check out Golden State of
Mind. You’ll find a melodic and tuneful act that knows exactly who they
are and aspires only to be the best of those parameters. You also might
find the best reggae-rock mashup since Sublime.

3/5