People don’t want to bang their heads and hear a metal song by Blink. They want to put on Blink and have a feel-good singalong jam, for the most part. They’re not listening to Blink to hear some minimalistic Selena Gomez sexy song. I love those guys so much, and I hope I can navigate them forward in the truest way.
It is with deep regret that Blink-182 have to cancel their show this evening at Bournemouth International Centre (BIC) due to band illness, on doctors advice.
Refunds will be available from point of purchase. The shows at the 02 in London will go ahead as planned.
We’ve always been more than that.
I feel like the world can't sustain this amount of daily outrage and frustration.
It’s always fun shooting with the homie Jason Goldwatch. He did a great job at capturing a day in my life. Me hanging with my kids, bandmates, and life on the road.
I think this album took Blink back to its roots and what it’s all about, and I think on the next record, we want to push that boundary again. We’ll keep the core of Blink 182 but we’ll get a little more experimental. Kind of like what we did on the untitled record, which we’re all really proud of. It still sounded like Blink and had that Blink feeling, but it was different and a little more thought out.
I’m very stoked on the “Home is Such a Lonely Place” video. The sentiment and emotional immediacy of the song itself are reflected in the director Jason Goldwatch’s interpretation. It’s the most honest video we’ve ever made, because it’s us being ourselves with our families.
This is one of my favorite video projects I’ve ever worked on. It’s fun as both a cast member and to see the beauty of the cuts and edits of such gorgeous and with such an “at-home, saying goodbye” video. It’s fun to see my bandmates in a light I’ve never seen them. I think it turned out beautifully.
The first words uttered on Blink-182’s second full-length LP, 1997's Dude Ranch, are spit out with a self-protective speed. “I know I’m pathetic / I knew when she said it,” bassist Mark Hoppus hisses. His partner in crime, guitarist Tom DeLonge, chimes in with his own sad-sack line before Hoppus can take a breath: “A loser, a bum’s what she called me when I drove her home.” They share in the inadequacy. It’s the self-deprecating Beavis and Butt-Head dynamic of a certain kind of friendship, two pop-punk delinquents managing to laugh at how much they’re always fucking up, and how they’re probably the last people you’d ever want to date.