To give them their due, [a]Blink 182[/a] play note-perfect to an enraptured posh skate-punk crowd, but it's so slick and polished that it lacks anything remotely linked to the concept of punk rock
Sun-drenched pop-punk brimming with melody, wit and energy or third-rate [a]NOFX[/a] copyists? One thing’s for certain, with their tattoos, big shorts and MTV-friendly sing-alongs, we won’t be seeing the back of these dorks until the next [a]Green Day[/a] album is released. But until then, kids, we must suffer.
Inconceivably, Blink 182 (the number is taken from the number of times Al Pacino says “fuck” in Scarface) have managed to sterilise that most sterile of musical forms – Californian pop punk. If it weren’t for the crass sexism directed towards female members of the audience, we might as well be watching Hanson.
“Did you wash your hands after touching your weiner?” preppy guitarist Tom ‘Hot Pants’ DeLonge asks even preppier bassist Mark ‘Fish Guts’ Hoppus. “I want to get laid,” is the reply. Beavis and Butthead would make less odious frontmen. You have to feel sorry for drummer Travis ‘Fuck Boy’ Barker who looks embarrassed to be here. Still, pays the bills.
To give them their due, Blink 182 play note-perfect to an enraptured posh skate-punk crowd, but it’s so slick and polished that it lacks anything remotely linked to the concept of punk rock. The single, ‘What’s My Age Again?’, receives the most lukewarm reception of the night, simply because it’s not as fast as their other songs. It is, though, more commercial and therefore perfect for heavy MTV rotation. Way to go, punk rockers!