Blink-182 - Nine
It's been an odd few years for Blink-182. The band, now crystallized with the addition of Alkaline Trio frontman Matt Skiba, seems to have fallen into the steadfast routine of existing to remain relevant by doing everything by the book. Nine, the band's eighth studio album, and now the second without Tom DeLonge, is a natural progression from 2016's California, but it's so determined to remain current while checking off every single pop music trope of today that it does everything except have a personality. It's 15 songs of music that fit anywhere in-between pop songs by Ariana Grande or Post-Malone. The album is just as easy to digest next to Lil Wayne as it is next to Maroon 5, and like all these aforementioned artists, Blink are now so safe, so saccharine, so inoffensive that it becomes such a chore to sit through this latest iteration of their music.
The problem with Nine is that so many of the songs are lacking any sense of urgency and commit the ultimate crime of just being songs that fill a tracklist. From the singles "Blame It On My Youth", "Happy Days", and the confounding "I Really Wish I Hated You"- they all come packing the same bouncy, pop-laden hooks, Travis Barker's skitterish drum work, and singy-songy choruses that have dominated the charts the last decade and are bereft of a willingness or desire to grab the listener by the ears and demand attention. Songs like "Hungover You" sound like half-songs with its whispered, scatter-gun verses that explode into mid-tempo choruses. "Remember To Forget Me" is "Stay Together For The Kids" lite, except that it doesn't have the impact of the latter's substance while "Generational Divide" gives off "my first punk song" vibes. Skiba sounds bored half the time, which is a shame really. Even when the album does its best Alkaline Trio impersonation ("Black Rain") it sounds like a song Skiba left off the last Trio record.
Nine finally hits a spot of excitement in "Ransom" with its uptempo percussion work and (finally) the urge to push the limits. But dumbfoundingly, the song is only a minute and a half long, and while I'm all for brevity, the song ends just as it is about to pick up some momentum. Bizarre.
So who is Nine for exactly? Well, it's definitely not for old-school Blink fans who first discovered the band with Buddha, Cheshire Cat, or Dude Ranch. But I'm probably just a crotchety old-school listener who has been puzzled ever since 2003's self-titled album. Nine is really for the average listener who "likes all kinds of music" and loves that so much of popular music today is inoffensive, safe, diverse, and caters to listeners of all genres and backgrounds. For you, the album is fine and will sit happily in your Spotify playlist next to whatever tepid song is currently topping the charts. But for anyone who longs for Blink with a little bit of personality and juvenile attitude, you'll find none of that here. It doesn't even have anything to do with the album's lack of DeLonge either because by the time he did Neighborhoods, his head was already in the stars chasing aliens.
Perhaps it is too much to ask for another song about jerking off in a tree, but this band used to be fun. Now they're just pedestrian at best. Imagine an average Alkaline Trio hooking up with +44 on the dance floor of some terrible night club and you've got Nine. It's a shame really. Growing up doesn't always have to suck, but it really shouldn't be this bland either.
(Columbia Records)