By Jimmy Higdon

An incredible achievement of growth and maturity: not one single dick joke is to be found in this entire album.  This coming November will mark 20 years since the release of blink-182’s untitled album.  

I was just barely figuring out who they were, while my older brother and older “friends” on my street were talking about the new blink-182 album coming out.  For some reason, I was conditioned at an early age to think that if a good band was coming out with something “new”, it was automatically going to suck.

Why? 

Maybe because my older peers were always saying things like, “Yeah, I don’t know, their (any band with more than 2 albums) older stuff was WAY better”. Or maybe it’s because by the time I started getting into some of these bands, they just so happened to be hitting the peak of their mainstream success and it’s just natural for a lot of self-proclaimed music heads to be turned off by that (not me though, I would never).  I’m sure there could be more reasons, but it doesn’t really matter.  All I really want to recall is how this album made me feel when first hearing it.  It was unlike anything I had felt before – sprouting emotions inside of me that I didn’t even know were possible.  I mean, that’s what music is supposed to do, isn’t it?  Needless to say, those preconceived notions of new things sucking went totally out the window.

Unfortunately – of course – there was a big parental advisory label on the cover so – of course –  my parents would not buy me the album. It’s understandable, the album is still littered with swear words, but it’s nowhere near the caliber of crudeness that their previous albums brought about with tracks such as Happy Holidays, You Bastard, or Mutt in which the lyrics talk about some guy who “took the seat off his own bike because the way that it felt”. Either way, this tiny but mighty little graphic caused me to have to secretly borrow the CD from anyone and everyone who had it, whenever I could, and listen to it on repeat through my Walkman or very quietly in my room.  This went on for a few months until I was finally able to convince my parents to buy me the edited version of the album.  I didn’t really care.  Edited or not, blink-182’s untitled album quickly became my favorite album of all time at the wise old age of 10 years old.

 I can’t say with certainty that this remains true, seeing how this was 20 years ago and I’ve been introduced to so many more bands, styles, and genres of music since then – but it got me thinking.  Out of the limited music I had access to while in my prepubescent years – this album in particular – seems to have stuck around while the others faded into a blur of embarrassment.  I’m not saying it’s not a little embarrassing that I still listen to blink-182 as a 30-year-old man (boy), but there’s less shame around it than if I’m blaring Three Days Grace or Korn in my car when feeling nostalgic.  Also, I’m innately attracted to sad music. This album is the most emo that blink-182 ever got, and maybe that’s why it resonated with me so much.  Or maybe this album is the one that brainwashed me into loving sad music?  There had to be a catalyst at one point, right?  I’m not sure.  A real chicken or the egg scenario.  Either way, there is an emotional depth here that sinks further into you than their previous albums, especially when you’re hearing it for the first time at 10 years old.

I guess the point I’m trying to make is that there are certain things that have a lasting impact on you when you’re growing up.  Whether it be movies or music or video games or people or places – I think it’s important to acknowledge the components of our youth that seem to transcend their years of relevancy and dissect them.  Or maybe it’s not important, but it’s at least interesting.  I believe it’s especially prevalent in music and film – in any case it is for me.  I’m always searching for the right song for the moment or season; I’m always referencing a movie that feels relevant to an experience I’m going through. These small details end up acting as the foundation for the memories I hold of all the different moments of my life.  Sort of like how you hear a song, or smell a smell, or see a clip from a movie, and you’re transported to a very specific place and time.  We found ourselves connecting with something at that moment, and that feeling never completely left.  It’s not present at all times, but it’s there. It’s buried somewhere deep inside of us and every now and then when the full moon shines, it demands control.  Whether it’s consciously or subconsciously, I think we are all in search of relatability in one way or another when it comes to examining any form of art.  From complex paintings with many layers and underlying themes, to simple but heartfelt blink-182 songs, it’s all relative.

Is blink-182’s untitled album the best album that blink-182 ever made?  I don’t know.  It’s definitely the most serious album they’ve made, and it’s the one that has made the most lasting impact on me.  I can’t help but feel like it shaped the way I listen to music now. It’s almost like I didn’t even know what I was looking for when discovering new music until this album came.  A small piece of me searches for what I found back then, with whatever new music I stumble across these days, and those feelings will more than likely continue to mold me and my view on music for years to come.  I think that in itself is worth acknowledging, isn’t it?