Two Post staffers share their love for recently split-up pop-punk band Blink-182.
I was 17 when I was introduced to a guy at a high school party.
“Oh YOU’RE Sam Howard. Here’s something I think you’ll like,” the kid told me, seconds before frantically strumming (clanking?) the power chords to Blink-182’s “Dammit” on his acoustic guitar.
For whatever reason, the simplistic — and sometimes stupid — emo pop-punk of Blink-182 has long been synonymous with my identity.
Actually, I know the reason well, and that made it hard to see the bandmates split this week. For the better part of my adolescence, Blink’s music was always there for me, and I’ve been vocal about that.
I remember where I was when I first heard Blink’s 2003 single “Feeling This.” I skipped class to give their 2011 album, “Neighborhoods,” a proper first listen. I listened to “Going Away to College” the day my older brother went off to college, and then did the same when I moved to Athens a few years ago.
Reflection has since shown me that Blink-182’s work is, admittedly, pretty sub-par. The overly dramatic lyrics are often unrelatable to anyone out of high school and the music certainly isn’t anything special.
But that doesn’t detract from my nostalgia. Mark Hoppus, Travis Barker, Tom Delonge and yes, even obscure former drummer Scott Raynor, were four of my best friends during the all-too-awkward time of adolescence.
They were pinnacles of how pals should be. And seeing Mark and Travis pinned against Tom in petty social media back-and-forth tarnishes that image I’ve always had in my mind.
I’m sad to see them split; it not only signals the end of a major part of my life, it also shakes my notion of how friends should act to one another.
In their words, not mine, I’m “so sorry it’s over,” but “I guess this is growing up.”
Samuel Howard is a junior studying journalism at Ohio University and is a web staffer at The Post.
----
My introduction to Blink-182 is similar to Sam’s. Except it was he who introduced me to the Tom DeLonge twang and Mark Hoppus overdrive.
I was familiar with Blink-182 prior to college. A little bit of “Feeling This;” a dash of “Always.” But my true Blink fanaticism did not begin until freshman year of college.
As my fanhood grew, I tried my best to pull others in. I blasted “Stay Together for the Kids” from my second floor window in Read Hall onto Bush Lawn, simultaneously violating Ohio University’s music code and creating the short-lived “East Green Music Hour.”
Each time I hung out with Sam, I was introduced to another side of Blink I had not known previously. It started innocently enough. Upbeat party music like “Rock Show” gave way to “Obvious,” a rock ballad only Blink-182 could properly compose. “Story of a Lonely Guy” resonated at all the right levels when I was feeling down.
Unlike Sam, I believe Blink-182 is one of the greatest bands (of a specific sub-genre of punk rock) of all time. Maybe I’m still in the fanboy phase.
Regardless, Tom’s departure from Mark Hoppus and Travis Barker, the band’s world-class drummer and best musician, was a blow to reality. How could he depart, again? And about a decade after the first time the band broke up, with the same arrogant tone.
I’ll never know what Tom was thinking. Maybe he wanted to go make some more spacey music with Angels and Airwaves. Or maybe he’s just insane.
But in retrospect, his decision doesn’t matter. Listening to Blink-182 will also be a key memory of my college experience. Seeing them in concert in Chicago in 2013 is a highlight of my collegiate career. And no matter how much Tom’s decision to end the band stings, he can never take away those memories.
Will Drabold is a junior studying journalism at Ohio University and a stringer for The Post’s campus staff.
