311’s Sounds Aren’t Dated to Faithful Fans

The members of 311 must have thought they had the whole rap-metal-ska thing nailed when their 1995 self-titled album sold more than 3 million copies and turned this Nebraska-bred quintet into suburban groove kings. What 311 didn’t anticipate was that the sound they helped popularize would be forged into a harder, more confrontational cast, as Rage Against the Machine, Limp Bizkit and company planted a stone in rap-metal’s velvet glove and used the cross-genre as a vehicle for anger management and insurrectionary polemics. Suddenly, 311’s party-time funk sounded harmlessly benign.

311 may not have the drawing power of old, but it’s got a solid constituency of fans who demand little more than some good, clean fun from the band. At 311’s sold-out performance at the House of Blues on Sunday, it was all about the beats. Like an ace hard-core band, 311 can make whipsaw transitions on a dime, shifting quickly from dancehall and ska rhythms to strident metal and bubbling hip-hop. Yet 311 wisely doesn’t forsake melody; guitarist Tim Mahoney striated the songs with glistening minor chords that cleansed the grit.

But there’s an identity void at the core of 311’s sound, which is perhaps why they have been trailing the other metal-rap behemoths in sales. Frontmen Nick Hexum and S.A. Martinez, who alternate between rapping and singing, are proficient yet bland. Without a strong point of view, 311 doesn’t resonate much beyond the dance floor.