blink-182
Nine

The readers who have just reached or surpassed the threshold of their “thirties” will know well the feeling that comes with each new puff on the candles, the sense of helplessness in watching the most carefree period of age slowly drift away. Among these, those who lived their youthful days to the rhythm of publications from Epitaph, Fat Wreck, One Side Dummy, Victory, Drive-Thru, Wynona, and so forth, cannot help but feel a type of affection towards some of the bands of that era that transcends the actual value of those bands and their respective musical proposals. And this is, in short, the sentiment that binds me to blink-182.

Propelled from the California skate-punk circuit to planetary success thanks to that commercial monolith of 1999, “Enema Of The State,” reaching the peak of their career in 2003 with the release of an untitled album capable of reconciling both audience and critics for the first time, Mark Hoppus, Tom DeLonge, and Travis Barker took credit for bringing two entire generations of "kidz" closer to pop-punk, opening the doors to those more inclined to that wonderful Made in U.S.A miracle known as punk-rock.

Regarding the breakup in 2005 and its related causes, the meaning and outcomes of the reunion in 2009, and subsequently DeLonge's ejection by his former teammates, not to mention the impact of the absence of the historic guitarist on the continuation of Hoppus and Barker’s activities, everything has been said, read, and heard. The most current news regarding the Los Angeles trio speaks of Matt Skiba’s stable entry from Alkaline Trio, a not exactly memorable release (“California”) from the new formation in 2016 and its deluxe version in 2017, a worldwide tour, various U.S. tours, and no less than a residency at the Palms Casino Resort in Las Vegas.

Then, a new album with Alkaline Trio for Matt, an EP from Mark's electro-pop side project along with Alex Gaskarth of All Time Low, and the usual, endless series of collaborations for Travis Barker, capable of dividing his time between stage experiences as a session musician for Aquabats, Strung Out, and Goldfinger (just to name a few) and studio commitments with a long list of artists among the most prominent in the international rap and hip-hop scene, despite a series of ailments and injuries that have not minimally dented his proverbial grit.

Until last September 20, the release date of “Nine,” announced by Hoppus as a work conceptually comparable to the untitled album for the uniqueness of its development and the experimental approach in the composition phase, therefore significantly anticipated by the entire fanbase, also due to an understanding presumed now consolidated with Skiba.

And of new sounds, if you listen well, the album is full: do not let yourself be misled by the opener "The First Time", it’s a regurgitation of the penultimate, muddled release. Forget the punk revival of "Dude Ranch," the pursuit of pure sounds (untitled album) and the alt-rock ambitions of "Neighborhoods;" the work that blink-182 delivers to fans on the 20th anniversary of "Enema Of The State" is a compilation of studio tracks skillfully manipulated by what we might consider the Justice League of today’s producers, above all The Futuristics (creators of hits for Lady Gaga, Selena Gomez, Camila Cabello, just to understand...), Sam Hollander (One Direction, Metro Station, Kelly Rowland...), and Tim Pagnotta (if you do not know Sugarcult it's only your fault).

Travis Barker's drums, for example, are everywhere, at any tempo, in any form (including sampled) and it could be no different, since a good number of the fifteen new compositions originated from a different beat by our drummer. The electronics, then, support and in many cases entirely replace the guitar as it has been happening in most rock albums more blatantly 'radio-oriented' in recent years (see the likes of 30 Seconds To Mars, Muse, Imagine Dragons, etc.). And what about the effects on the voices? Annoying, certainly, and yet unfortunately necessary to harmonize the vocals to the unpleasantness of certain sounds thrown into the headphones somewhat inappropriately directly from Feldmann’s home expander, confirmed in charge of operations.

Therefore, it would be incorrect to claim that blink-182 invented something new; the current trends are well known and spare no one, yet denying this “Nine” indeed has something experimental would be equally wrong, considering the origins of the three musicians and the journey, net of the lineup changes, made from "Flyswatter" to today; just when the band’s career seemed to have finally stalled, making it easy for detractors to attach the heaviest of labels as a subpar band for a prepubescent audience, our guys are making the third, monumental transformation in their history. Evidence of this can be seen in the handful of marshmallows force-fed with "Blame It On My Youth", the bold swagger of a "Black Rain" embracing dubstep beyond legal limits, the alchemical balance between the soft phrasing and the hip-hop rhythms of the verses of "I Really Wish I Hated You" and the epic stadium rock openings of its chorus, the misty and rarefied atmospheres of "Remember To Forget Me", and their respective stylistic choices decidedly abused overall but far from obvious for those who made 'sing-along' a mission for more than 20 years until today.

«That’s it? What about the memorable riffs and choruses? What will yesterday's kids sing at Hoppus and co.'s live shows of tomorrow?»

Well, Skiba is not DeLonge, the two styles are very different from each other and the comparison is misplaced; it would be like asking whether the train is faster or if chocolate is tastier. But don’t worry, "Happy Days" might not be designed to be a hit, but it resembles very closely a hypothetical remake of "Strings" 25 years after the original publication, and is, in its own way, an honest, sincere track that gradually gains a certain power until it implodes on itself in a bridge like those not heard since "Take Off Your Pants & Jacket." The nostalgia effect is guaranteed for anyone who knows blink’s legacy as well as their own pocket, since the Kung Fu Records-marked debut and has the courage to listen beyond the seemingly insurmountable wall of synths, gifting us one of the most intimate pages ever shared by Mark Hoppus.

"Heaven" is what remains for Ridgecrest's boy from the +44 experience, evidently not a minor thing but which in no way represents a source of embarrassment for anyone, also thanks to one of the most solid rhythm sections on the album and a fine vocal work by Matt Skiba, who finally seems to have oriented himself correctly in time and space, even if limited to the usage of the instrument mentioned above, while "Hungover You" is the result of the in vitro fertilization of "Violence" from 2003, stripped of its rawest and most unruly component in favor of a massive injection of electronic sounds to emphasize the bass, along with plenty of personality.

Step right up, folks!

Through the fifteen paragraphs of this "Nine," there is a bit of everything: "Darkside" is the lever marked 'back’ on the time machine that takes us back to "Hot Fuss" by The Killers and generally to the golden age of indie rock before it irreparably broke our nerves. Travis Barker engages in an offbeat from dance hall which is quite unheard-of in the blink-182 discography and Matt's voice catapults us directly to the first real hit of the turn. There is also (just a little, to be honest) time for an unlikely and honestly past-due hardcore-punk blast like "Generational Divide"; even a sound current too hastily brushed under the carpet for shame like emocore comes back to life for the 3:40 of the excellent "No Heart To Speak Of" and—needless to say—in "On Some Emo Shit". They will (along with "Hungover You") be the only episodes where Skiba stands out in his own way like never before since his lineup entry, because seriously, the organ accompanying the delightful vocal line in the intro of "Black Rain" did not deserve such an unfortunate destiny.

«Yes, okay. But the punk?»

Well, assuming and not assuming that our guys have maintained some vaguely assimilable elements to their early punk-rock during the journey to refine the distinctive features of their sound, there is no shortage of nostalgic moments where it is even pleasant to confuse pre-Skiba blink-182 with post-DeLonge. For instance, "Ransom", the most blink track of the entire "Nine," which, paradoxically, is also the only one out of focus, not to say caricaturesque, in relation to the album's sonic direction. Far better is the newfoundglorious "Pin The Grenade". "Run Away", on the other hand, is the prog-rock-inspired link between what "Neighborhoods" was and what one would have at least expected from the approximate "California."

So, when after 41:40 the curtain falls on "Nine," everything we knew about blink-182 ends up being questioned; you can't say our guys didn't take risks in a bid to rejuvenate the catalog with a product that is undoubtedly current and aligned (maybe too much...) with major contemporary hit parade publications.

And yet, despite all the work of heavy artillery entrusted to super production, it's evident that, lyrically, Mark has remained the same as always. He is genuine, honest; it's hard to find anything contrived or premeditated in what he writes. The soul is the same as in the days of "Wasting Time" and "Fentoozler." Regarding the perception of the new pieces, the coming out regarding depression issues ahead of the first official release of "Simple Creatures" matters little; in the end, what truly set blink-182 apart from the swarm of MTV bands of the early 2000s has always been the strong consonance between motifs and themes bordering on bipolarity and immediate rhythmic solutions without too many technicalities.

On the other hand, the consolidation of Matt Skiba’s position within the band might have given some people hope to finally see the revival of verve and sound in a project whose narrative seems to have interrupted right at its highlight with the hiatus in 2005: both Alkaline Trio and the solo side project Matt Skiba & The Sekrets seemed ideal topics to contribute to the mission, evidently, the premises of the new alliance are others.

Blink-182 give the impression of being survivors at a crucial fork in their career, the one at which they had to choose whether to continue recycling themselves in the cliché of a veteran pop-punk band that would decapitate them or shake off for good the cumbersome reputation of a chart-topping punk stereotype, surpass the perimeter of commercial rock, and embrace an uncompromised pop path, ensuring it lasts for many more years.

And the sensation, in the end, is that the LA trio has postponed the discourse to the next album, on the condition of going all the way to the hiatus affair, the dependencies, and Travis's near death, the disappearance of historic friend-producer Jerry Finn, a reunion which with hindsight has the bitterish aftertaste of aspartame from sugar-free candies, and all other discourses left suspended from "Neighborhoods" to today and on which they have the duty and obligation to crash for their own good first and foremost, then for the future of the band.

Or, much more simply, they might have just brushed the whole matter off as it is in their nature (raise your hand those who, after "Enema Of The State"/"Take Off Your Pants And Jacket" doubleheader, would have expected a breakaway album) regardless of intransigent fans, detractors, and DeLonge widows.

And if with "Neighborhoods" they managed to put on record the sound of life separated at home and in "California" that of performance anxiety based on hearsay and outside expectations, "Nine" is nothing more than the album that blink-182 could and should have released instead of its predecessor when the world was waiting for them at the gate, good to make a sound move in a historical moment when distinctions in genre are increasingly blurred and in the wait to figure out what to be when they grow up, but which nonetheless dispenses us a truth in an almost absolute sense: it is wrong to think that with Tom DeLonge blink wouldn't have ended up equally in the shredder of this music business so markedly influenced by Billie Eilish and peers because blink-182 are not Bad Religion and Geffen, Sony, MCA are not Epitaph or Drive-Thru.

P.S: The blink have not played punk-rock since 1998. And Mark has not yet let it go.