MUSIC

Blink-182 Experiences a Mid-Life Crisis on "Happy Days"

The band's latest song, "Happy Days," depicts a band in crisis.

Brooklyn Vegan

Blink-182 has been an amorphous band since Tom Delonge left.

While California was easy on the ears—thanks in part to the commercial proficiency of producer John Feldman, who previously worked with bands like 5 Seconds of Summer and Panic! At The Disco—the record's fun sensibilities were overshadowed by the weight of a midlife crisis. Tracks like "Kings of the Weekend" and "Rabbit Hole" painted a picture of a band chasing their glory days. The rockers, now all in their 40's, had a clear objective with California that was set partially in motion by the departure of Tom Delonge in 2015: Remind fans that Blink-182 is the same care-free trio. But they're not the same band, and with Delonge's absence came a loss of sincerity. As flawed as Neighborhoods was—the last record Delonge would write and appear on—it carried with it a reflective maturity that California lacked. Songs like "Up All Night" and "Love Is Dangerous" portrayed Blink as a contemplative band, who in their old age were forced to learn from their impetuous years, and to perhaps grow and change in the process. Fans were disappointed by California because that authenticity and growth was nowhere to be found.

The trio's latest singles, "Happy Days," "Blame It On My Youth," and "Generational Divide," are very literal in their depictions of the band's mid-life crisis. While California showed the band chasing their youth, Blink's upcoming album seems to be in response to that: pure existential crisis. "Are we better, are we better now?" Hoppus cries out on the 50-second "Generational Divide." "I've been lost since 1999 / Blame It on my youth," the band all screams out optimistically on "Blame it On My Youth."

Now, "Happy Days" has all but ascertained that Blink-182 is running on the fumes of nostalgia. The track is formulaic and plays out like much of Blink-182's late discography. Skiba provides the harmonic cries while Barker wails on the drums, with Hoppus filling in the gaps to send a message to the "kids" supposedly listening to their music. Even the single's cover art is eerily reminiscent of the band's 2003 self-titled project. The only issue is that it's not kids listening anymore.


Blink-182's biggest moments served as a form of escapism from teenage oppression and effectively communicated the heavy-handed ridiculousness of being a young exile. But those kids are now in their mid-to-late 20's. They've all realized there is no escape. Instead, they're all looking for answers, and it's comforting to know that at least Blink-182 is on that journey with them. "Walls of isolation inside of my pain / and I don't know if I'm ready to change," Hoppus sings on the track's chorus. "Happy Days" shows that our favorite middle-aged musicians are lost in translation, unable to articulate exactly what kind of band they are anymore.

You know those movies that have been parodied, memed, and referenced so much that you feel like you've seen them–but you never have and, honestly, why would you bother?

You know that at the end of Taxi Driver Travis Bickle may or may not hallucinate a violent episode, and you've seen people dress up in Robert De Niro's utility jacket, black shades, and weird Roman soldier haircut at every Halloween party you've ever attended. You know that Scarface's Tony Montana screams, "Say hello to my little friend" while wearing a suit with giant lapels and holding a machine gun. How do you know this? No, you've never seen the movie; the fact is that the sheer masterpiece of a few key scenes capturing the climax of a film can overshadow the entire production. Sure, you want to sit down to watch them "one day," but you just never get around to it.

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