It didn't have to be this way.
I have been made to listen to 90 percent of the same artists I have been for the past 15 years. And it's all Blink's fault.
I could have kept finding new artists to listen to by accident and word-of-mouth dancing to them like a child opening his last x-mas present and finding it to be that one thing he has wanted all year.
Instead, I'm going to just be doomed to stagnation.
I'm not cool enough to have discovered punk by accident. I came upon it like millions of others, when Green Day and the Offspring hit the radio.
Luckily, for me, Green Day had only briefly been off Lookout and Offspring's album was on Epitaph (also, home to my Headbangers Ball discovery Rancid). From there, it's pretty easy to connect the dots from my tastes in 1994 to 1996 when I attended my first Warped Tour.
Offspring and Rancid, led to Epitaph's "Punk-O-Rama" series, which led me to Bad Religion, Down By Law, Dropkick Murphys, The Hives, The International Noise Conspiracy, Refused, New Bomb Turks, NoFX and Pennywise. NoFX led me to Fat Wreck's "Survival of the Fattest" series which led me to Tilt, Bracket, Me First and the Gimme Gimmes, Lagwagon, No Use for a Name and Snuff. Green Day led me to the Lookout mailorder catalog, where I could easily order Squirtgun, Queers, Mr. T Experience, Screeching Weasel, Sweet Baby and Riverdales records through the mail.
Finding bands so quickly and joyfully - almost like finding easter eggs - was something many, many other kids would do.
Bolstered by NoFX and Rancid's well-publicized dismissal of major label overtures, we too started bands wanting the opportunity to say "no" to a lucrative major label deal.
But part of the beauty in starting bands with such a vast array of music which stretched the bounds of what "punk rock" sounded like, we put together bands which sounded little to nothing like the other bands with whom we shared stages.
The bands that sucked disappeared, while those with talent and ambition thrived in an almost Darwinian evolutionary cycle.
At some point, some kids in San Diego formed a band called Blink which joined the pop-punk sensibilities of Screeching Weasel and the Descendents with the San Diego sound emerging in the early 1990s.
After having to add a nonsensical number to avoid a lawsuit and releasing two lack-lustre records, Blink-182 releases a major label record "Dude Ranch."
While apparently, singles from the record "Dammit" and "Josie" were receiving radio play, Blink was still small enough to open for Less Than Jake in 1997. The videos for the singles were getting MTV play, but late at night as opposed to regular rotation.
I had first heard of the band a couple days before they were to open for an LTJ show in Milwaukee in 1997. I bought "Dude Ranch" the afternoon before the show and while it seemed a decent pop-punk record, it wasn't something I was too excited about. Whereas, hearing a band play their material live usually makes me listen to their records for days on end, my lukewarm feeling for "Dude Ranch" lasted through the show, probably because, Tom and Mark struggled to sound in-tune. I saw Blink headline early in 1998 and their live show, while sophomoric and entertaining, was again marred by poor vocal performance.
In 1999, they released "Enema of the State," which featured a new drummer.
I was a bit taken aback, as Scott's drumming was very basic - perfect for the very basic guitar and very basic bass and their unique singing. Blink always sang great on record, their harmonies set them apart from most of the other bands, but suddenly, front and center is the next coming of Buddy Rich!
This new guy seemed to be trying to fit a new fill at the end of every stanza, every chord, every third note... it was crazy. And yet, somehow Blink became huge that year.
Their first two singles, "What's my age again?" and "All the small things" played every 45 minutes on MTV and top-40 radio and suddenly a change was in the air.
Punk rock was to change with an avalanche of mediocrity.
What's worse, is that it was going to make me start feeling very old while still in my 20s.
Riding in on Blink's coat-tails came a bunch of tattooed frat boys called Good Charlotte. Soon afterwards, came the glut of similar-sounding, non-threatening, radio-friendly, three-word-name bands like Fall Out Boy, All Time Low, Gym Class Heroes, Saves The Day and New Found Glory: each a variation on the Blink songwriting formula.
Finally, some 25 years after Joe Strummer had first sung these words, major labels found a way to "turn rebellion into money."
Bands went from opening spurning the filthy lucre of corporate labels and MTV to openly embracing it so that they could share with a large audience, their very unique worldview of how tough high school can be and how hard it is to find and keep love.
The kids who flocked to these bands quickly outnumbered the "punked than thou" lot whose shouts of "sell out" was easily drowned out by the screams at a "punk" band's first TRL in-studio appearance.
The by-product of all of this, aside from my turning into an elitist, is that the new wealthy successful bands have formed a durable template for future bands. The homogeneity of their look and sound serve only to inspire a new crop of similar-sounding bands to take over and we will forever be stuck in this cycle.
Now kids are coming of age learning from MTV, Alternative Press and even fucking Seventeen Magazine that "punk rock" equals All Time Low and that Blink-182 is "old school punk." Now, the young bands popping up are going to be modeling themselves after bands that are pretty much interchangible. In fact, if Wikipedia is to be believed, a very sterile-sounding band called Bayside, chose their name while en route to a New Found Glory show!
I am sorta like the guy Obama described who clings to guns and religion in the face of change.
Except I cling to bands like Ted Leo & The Pharmacists, NoFX, Bouncing Souls and Less Than Jake who have surfed under the curl of the wave of mediocrity and continue to play.
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