The Cure and Blink-182
How Robert Smith and the Cure inspired Blink-182's foray into darker territory.
Blink-182
If you were alive during the nineties and early two-thousands it’s likely Blink-182 soundtracked your life to some degree, whether you liked it or not. In 2003 the band were reinventing themselves and presented the world with their most dynamic work yet—a forward thinking collection of songs recorded in houses and studios across California. By 2004, they were the biggest band in the world and were riding the coattails of the groundbreaking Untitled album, proving the 12 month effort was worth the investment.
The certified kings of pop-punk had been compelled to break from the drab confines of a genre that was becoming increasingly stale. It is for that reason, not a pop-punk record at all. Rather, Untitled is an exploratory piece of art executed by a pop-punk band. A similarly scaled reinvention to Green Day’s American Idiot, although that record tended to stay true to the band’s foundational sound. Untitled did not.
Back in 1995 Blink-182 were made famous for playing brattish songs at supersonic speed, making their way to the forefront of the So-Cal punk scene amongst the likes of The Descendants, NOFX and The Offspring.
Self-described as ‘nursery rhymes on crystal meth’ by singer and guitarist Tom Delonge, Blink’s thematics differed from the anti-authoritarian subject matter of most other So-Cal punk bands. The lyrics tended to hone in more on relationship troubles and coming of age, often with a humorous or crass edge.
Over 8 years the band had moved away from the faster confines of the So-Cal punk sound to a glossy, commercialised pop-punk sheen that would catapult them to the upper echelon of that genre—up until the hinge moment of Untitled.
The Cure
The Cure are a British band known for their fusion of punk, post-punk, new wave, dream pop and shoegaze—definitely not Goth, thank you very much. Contrary to Blink-182, they didn’t emerge from a “scene” as such (it would be more apt to say they started their own), and therefore weren’t shaped by the shackles of genre.
The scale of the Cure’s broader influence often pushed beyond music and into a philosophy—a way of being, a way to dress, a way to feel—a common prism through which likeminded people could interface with the world.
Band-leader, singer, guitarist and genius frontman Robert Smith embodies the Cure—he is the Cure. The drama of the listening experience incessantly pairs with the image of his made-up face and lipsticked lips, peering out at the world in earnest from the shade of a frizzed out Sideshow Bob hairdo. It’s a visceral projection, propped up by a voice so cocksure of it’s owner’s fallibility that it can’t help but hypnotise you into its orbit.
His voice gives off “an unnevering sense of desperation and misery. His entire upper register essentially gives the impression that he’s crying, sounding rather painful and thin.” (The Range Planet)
Smith has the ability to transport you into a temporary reality, orchestrating his band’s every move with the precise command of a sculptor; a master of manipulation in the medium of raw emotion. You may come to understand one of these worlds only to be whisked away and introduced to another before you can even say “eyeliner”.
Smith could be expressive and daft as well as melancholic, embodying bespoke personas for nearly each creation. Some of the most well-known Cure songs The Lovecats and Friday I’m In Love harbour sunny moods with elements of positivity and cheek, contrary to the more demure and stunningly beautiful sense of optimistic gloom on the majority of the Cure’s discography—the peak of which came over a decade into their career.
In 1989 they too could lay claim to being the biggest band in the world, coming off the back of their own seminal album Disintegration, described by Nitsuh Abebe of Pitchfork as:
“…like standing in the middle of some vast, empty space—the kind of ocean or plain where you can see the horizon in all directions.”
Abebe’s 2010 Deluxe Addition review gorgeously sums up the mood, intent and impact of Disintegration. The album is consistent and whole, masterminded by an adamant Robert Smith amongst the tumult of growing older and getting hitched.
Smith, typically less than chuffed about the band’s recent pop successes, had felt an increased pressure to come through with deeper work. What resulted was a synth heavy exploration of desperate isolation, punctuated by billowing intros that morph into entire compositions set across a backdrop of cavernous reverb.
The Premise
Blink-182’s most audible utilisation of Cure-like themes and aesthetics coincides with their Untitled overhaul. The new sound would also derive from post-hardcore bands, mixing thick dissonant riffs with a new focus on writing major songs with a minor edge.
Singles from the record emphasised a newfound pop sensibility, with both song writers approaching hit-making with patience and care, contrary to their previous record (manager Rick DeVoe had demanded two singles after the band presented the album. Furious at this notion, each would respectively pen The Rock Show and First Date in frustration.)
Following a hiatus in 2005 and a subsequent reunion in 2011, Blink-182 released Neighborhoods, an album that lacked the cultural impact of its 2003 counterpart yet retained and even built upon some of the sonic themes, many of which are informed by the Cure.
We can pinpoint a particular era of the Cure as having the most sway on both aforementioned Blink records: the Disintegration era and its successor, Wish from 1992.
Wish proves that it is entirely possible for a band to build upon their most profound work to a satisfactory degree. Released three years after Disintegration, it features a more upbeat sound and a return to guitar-driven music. Themes of love and longing are still present, but the album also deals with hope and the search for happiness. Wish has a more optimistic tone and is less introspective, perhaps a result of Smith’s relenting control allowing the band more creative freedom.
Unlike the Cure, Blink-182 pulled the pin on their career not even two years after their greatest album. Tom Delonge had decided to leave, which felt akin to the best basketball player in the world suddenly venturing off to play, say, baseball at their athletic peak—a public gamble that leaves fans frustrated and bemused at the waste of talent.
Tom Delonge viewed it from the opposite perspective in that he didn't want to waste time. He must’ve thought, like Michael Jordan, that the highest echelon of his field had been reached. Tom not only wanted to prove something to himself but to others, to conquer uncharted waters and unfurl as an artist. These desires would culminate in his project Angels & Airwaves, a futuristic space-punk rock band who were successful in their own right, just not compared to Blink.
The periods examined come at a time when both bands were as big as they would ever be.
Blink-182 had an 11 year run-up to their most seminal work, the Cure had 13 years.
Robert Smith was freshly 30, whilst Mark Hoppus (vocals, bass) and Tom Delonge (vocals, guitar) were 31 and 28 respectively.
For context, here is how both bands generally sounded up until these crucial periods:
Blink-182 (1995-2001)
The Cure (1978-1987)
How did Blink’s songwriters differ in their interpretation of Cure influence?
Mark Hoppus
“The Cure were the band who inspired me to learn bass guitar. I would sit in my room every day listening to albums and playing along with the songs. The night Disintegration was released in 1989, I stood in line at a record store waiting to be one of the first to hear it.” (Alternative Press)
A lot of Mark’s bass playing is modelled loosely around that of the Cure’s Simon Gallup, whose melodic and often intricate playing plays a significant role in creating atmosphere and mood.
Gallup and indeed the two other Cure bassists had eclectic styles, and Mark seems to have fed from a small handful of these and found a way to inject them into his playing.
In particular his use of power chords, inverted bass chords, utilising the fifth in power-chord shaped syncopations, and playing melodies in slightly higher registers are all techniques employed in moments across Wish and Disintegration.
Additionally, it was through the Cure’s impressive bass sounds that Mark found a tonal template: slinky, bulbous and rich. Examples below from Disintegration and Wish:
These styles opened up an entire alleyway of creativity for Mark to hone in on, particularly the picked syncopations. As you can hear, the first two phrases above have a very post-2003 Blink energy to them.
Before he’d found the ideal tone pairing, Mark was still showing signs of Gallup’s influence, heard clearly in the below examples from early Blink records Buddha (1994) and Cheshire Cat (1995):
And here’s Mark’s newer bass sounds from 1999 onwards, edging closer to the thicker, slinkier tone in the earlier Cure clip:
It’s important to recognise that Mark uses these techniques in combination with more traditional So-Cal bass guitar methods from bands like The Descendants and Bad Religion. In doing so he created a way of playing that would fill out the sound in a one guitar band.
Tom Delonge
Tom Delonge doesn’t have the technical ability compared to that of Cure guitarist Pearl Thompson or even that of Smith himself, and barely showcases any audible likeness until Untitled. The only example of pre-2003 Cure inspiration I could find for Tom is in the following clip from 1994’s Carousel, where he uses a familiar melodic turnaround in the same spot of the chord progression as Friday I’m in Love (not two years old at the time):
Across the span of Tom Delonge’s dominant career in two big bands, he often implemented a host of paint-by-numbers chord progressions in creative ways—none more than the major I V vi IV progression (1,5,6,4), i.e. the most popular chord progression on earth.
You’ll find it in Blink songs What’s My Age Again?, Dammit, Always, Feeling This, M&M’s and Carousel, and James Blunt’s You’re Beautiful, Youth Group’s Forever Young, and Paparazzi by Lady Gaga.
The Cure hold trigger on the I V vi IV for the most part, except for in A Letter to Elise, which Blink-182 actually covered at 2004’s MTV Icon event for the Cure. Here they are back to back:
Another chord progression found in healthy population across Tom’s catalogue comes from one of the most famous Cure songs. Take a listen below to the ways in which Tom deployed this progression throughout his career, including in Angels & Airwaves:
And below, the opening drum / clap pattern and staccato bassline from the Cure’s Close to Me clearly inspired Everything’s Magic, the first single from the second Angels & Airwaves record i-Empire (2007):
Circling back to the eras of overlap and we once again find ourselves somewhere in 2004 or 2005, a time when the Untitled album is making waves. Part of the greater sonic overhaul was in Tom’s thoughtful approach to guitar tones.
Until this point Producer Jerry Finn, a crucial cog in the Blink machine and the most deserving of the “fourth blink member” title (sorry, Matt Skiba) had helped Tom come to an ideal amp combination for the famous tone on Enema of the State and Take Off Your Pants and Jacket. It was essentially a blend of clean and dirty signals, a crisp tone that pierced through hi-fi mixes and became a signature of the powerful modern Blink sound.
For the Untitled sessions, the Blink rulebook had been tossed. In place of consistency came diversity in the form of acoustic guitars, walls of distorted guitars and crucially: effects. The album is full of chunky, rock-solid power chords and octaves, but there is also a tangible shift towards using modulation effects.
Modulation effects like chorus, flanger and phaser create a warbly, uneasy and ethereal flavour when applied to electric and bass guitars. You can hear them subtly applied in the guitar riff and then in the descending verse bassline on the album’s fourth single Always:
Always shares a similar tone and playing style to the Cure’s High, which also shares aesthetic and groove qualities with Untitled’s second single I Miss You, another example of potential sources of inspiration within the British band’s catalogue:
The Cure mastered the use of modulation effects to aid the brooding and anxious atmosphere’s of Smith’s creations. They clearly understood the ability of chorus or flanger to tap into nostalgia and tag songs with reflective emotion.
Blink-182 must have certainly taken heed from their application, as the following back-and-forth examples show—starting with Last Dance by the Cure, then moving on to the live guitar tone Tom was using at the time on I Miss You and Asthenia:
The Turn
Tom had started a different side-project back in 2002, Box Car Racer. It was an emo-tinged post-punk record filled with anthemic acoustic songs, heavy hardcore inspired riffs, big dynamic shifts and dry drum sounds (courtesy of Blink-182’s Travis Barker). The project was a raging success, and while it was only meant to be a one-off it undoubtedly influenced the direction that Blink would take in the following year.
The album’s fifth track is Cat Like Thief, a mid-tempo emo burner featuring vocals from punk legend Tim Armstrong of Rancid. At the time of writing it’s the fourth most popular Box Car Racer song on Spotify, doubling as the first feature in the greater Blink universe while simultaneously planting a seed for a very notable collaboration to come:
The Prestige…
So what does all of this culminate it in? Well, All of This, strangely enough. Blink’s influence thread came full circle when Robert Smith agreed to collaborate on a song for their Untitled album.
Much like Cat Like Thief, All of This features strange, esoteric verse vocals from a punk icon juxtaposed against reverberant chorus vocals from Tom Delonge. It’s emotionally richer than Cat Like Thief, fit with a stumbling beat, beautiful synth-strings and candid acoustic guitars playing simple licks in typical Delonge fashion:
The song was pieced together in recording sessions that took place on both sides of the pond, with both parties never breathing the same air while in collaboration.
All of This’ mature and pensive music lays the perfect emotional foundation for Robert Smith to espouse his typical jaded character, with cathartic cries of “she’s all I need, she’s all I dream, she’s all I’m always wanting” in the climactic bridge:
Smith discusses his thought process behind the decision here:
The ensuing culmination would aggrandise still, when Smith joined the band in 2004 for their London leg of the Untitled tour at the O2 Arena. This was an incredible cross-generational union of likeminded artists, particularly for Mark Hoppus who explains his full-circle moment below:
Little did they know that would be their last tour for around 8 years. Within a five year window Blink-182 had overhauled their sound entirely, discovered cracks in their peaceful veneer, conquered the world and then ultimately disbanded. It’s a story of how ambition can drive the human spirit to wild success, but at a cost of strained relationships.
Conclusion
The intersection of influence from the Cure onto Blink-182 can be described as undeniable, yet subtle. The way in which they lifted and applied specific elements was executed delicately and respectfully, not once nearing the uncanny valley of sonic-appropriation. It’s a lesson in the value of taking a little from something you like and making it your own.
What it must have meant for Blink-182 to meet, collaborate, befriend and perform with one of their childhood heroes is the other mind-blowing side to this. To connect so intimately with someone whose work has played a pivotal role in shaping your artistic identity is as rare as it must be surreal; a life event no doubt cherished by Mark and Tom.
For the vast majority of their respective catalogues both the Cure and Blink-182 sound like two disparate groups with nothing in common, save for a handful of crucial moments—and that’s exactly what the influence thread is all about.