The pop-punk classic made entry on June 1, 1999.
Mark Hoppus, Travis Barker, and Tom DeLonge of Blink 182 photographed in 1999.
Jeff Kravitz/FilmMagic, Inc
Designed to sound like “nursery rhymes on steroids,” Enema of the State instantly propelled Blink-182 from the fringes of the mainstream to the center. It spawned two of the pop-punk generation’s biggest hits, went five-times platinum (though it peaked at No. 9 on the Billboard 200) and transformed guitarist Tom DeLonge, bassist Mark Hoppus and newly recruited drummer Travis Barker into MTV heroes, albeit often heavily blurred ones thanks to their willingness to strip off at any given moment.
Produced by Jerry Finn (Green Day’s Dookie), it also ushered in a wave of bands that combined anthemic hooks with relatable adolescent themes and a refusal to take themselves too seriously – see Sum 41, Wheatus and pretty much every other group who sported camo shorts at the turn of the century. Blink-182 may have been well into adulthood, but as evident by the album’s juvenile play on words and adult actress-adorned cover, their humor, style and general attitude were all proudly stuck in arrested development.
Of course, the Californian trio were never too concerned with such criticisms (“I think it’s so much more punk to piss people off than to conform to all those veganistic views,” Hoppus remarked at the time) or any accusations of selling out. And over time, the record has been reevaluated as both a revolutionary beginners’ guide and a throwback to a sunnier, more carefree era when rock bands weren’t necessarily expected to express a social or political conscience.
For its silver anniversary, here’s a worst-to-best ranking of its 12 odes to never growing up.
“Dysentery Gary”
“I hate you all, your mom’s a whore/Where’s my dog?/’Cause girls are such a drag.” “Dysentery Gary” isn’t exactly Blink-182’s finest lyrical hour. In fact, it’s hard to believe such a crude tirade was written not by a brat fresh out of middle school, but two men old enough to have voted in two presidential elections. This gastrointestinal attack against a guy whose only crime is to date the object of the band’s affections is insanely catchy, however, while Barker mixes things up with a rhythm that could almost be described as samba. Listen here.
“The Party Song”
This burst of pure unbridled energy sounds like it would have been blasted out at the San Diego State University frat house party it was written about. Whether the jocks and sorority girls in attendance would clock that the lyrics are far from celebratory is another matter. Inspired by a student rager that left Hoppus distinctly underwhelmed (“This place is so lame, all these girls look the same/All these guys have no game”), “The Party Song” is very much an anti-party song as the bassist starts dreaming about the comfort of his own home. But the casual sexism on display makes you wonder if Hoppus was really that much better than the hedonists he’s vilifying. Listen here.
“Wendy Clear”
Apparently named after Hoppus’ seafaring pride and joy (hence the opening line, “Let’s take the boat out on the bay”), penultimate number “Wendy Clear” offers little that the previous 10 tracks haven’t already before, which perhaps explains why the band rested it from their live shows for a good 20 years. It’s another tale of romantic frustration – this time aimed toward a girl already attached to someone without any emotional intelligence – set against a backdrop of polished punk-pop riffs, sing-along melodies and hyperactive percussion. Hey, you didn’t look toward late ‘90s Blink-182 for musical innovation. Listen here.
“Don’t Leave Me”
Enema of the State’s reliance on Blink-182’s signature sound means several tracks inevitably merge into one. Case in point: “Don’t Leave Me,” which picks up where the opener’s equally frantic wall of noise and pubescent approach to relationships left off. This time around, however, the wounded narrator is in far less toxic mode, literally pleading with the girl who’s kicked him to the curb for just one more chance. It’s Barker who commands the most attention, though, his manic work behind the kit channeling his two musical heroes, Buddy Rich and The Muppets’ Animal. Listen here.
“Dumpweed”
DeLonge described “Dumpweed” as “probably the best opener we’ve ever had” in the 2016 documentary The Pursuit of Tone. (“Feeling This” and “Ghost on the Dancefloor” say hello.) But while Enema of the State’s kickstarter doesn’t quite live up to such bold claims, its juvenile lyrical themes, bubblegum punk hooks and Barker’s scattergun rhythms perfectly set the tone for all the giddiness that lies ahead. Its “I need a girl I can train” might not appear to have aged particularly well, but you have to hope the band were satirizing its incel-like protagonist rather than leaning into any blatant misogyny. Listen here.
“Aliens Exist”
Sparked by regular debates about extraterrestrials on the tour bus, this typically fast and furious number gave true believer DeLonge the chance to convince clear skeptic Hoppus, and the army of Blink-182 fans, that The X-Files wasn’t a work of pure fiction. Back in 1999, “Aliens Exist” no doubt sounded like the ramblings of the tinfoil hat brigade (“I know the CIA would say, ‘What you hear is all hearsay’”). But following his unlikely role in the Pentagon’s formation of a UFO department, DeLonge’s conspiracy theory now holds a little more weight. Listen here.
“Anthem”
Another tale of suburban strife, Enema of the State’s riotous closer finds the trio in full-on sulky teenage mode on what’s essentially the punk-pop genre’s answer to “Parents Just Don’t Understand.” Encapsulating adolescents’ tendency to blow every minor inconvenience out of proportion, they even compare their punishment to “instant slavery” following a house party that gets wildly out of control. The group were obviously proud of their tantrum, opening follow-up Take Off Your Pants and Jacket with “Anthem Part 2,” although this time around their ire was directed toward the government. Listen here.
“Mutt”
Written about DeLonge’s ex-roommate Benji Weatherley, a professional surfer nicknamed after his way with the ladies, “Mutt” suggests the guitarist may have occasionally suffered from the green-eyed monster. The lustful tale isn’t particularly complimentary about its central horndog, or his latest conquest who shares a fondness for public displays of affection (“He’s not that old, I’ve been told a strong sexual goal/He goes out every day, she goes every way”). First recorded with original drummer Scott Raynor, its voyeuristic nature, however, did make it the ideal soundtrack for the webcam scene in American Pie in which Blink-182 themselves mock Jason Biggs’ inexperienced nerd. Listen here.
“Going Away to College”
You wouldn’t expect one of the Warped Tour’s most prominent bands to find inspiration in a teen romcom starring Sarah Michelle Gellar. But 1998’s Can’t Hardly Wait had a profound effect on Hoppus, prompting him to pen this lyrically heartfelt, if musically goofy, ode to that difficult transitional period between high school and higher education. Hailed as one of 1999’s best deep cuts, “Going Away to College” finds its hopeless romantic wondering aloud whether his teenage sweetheart will still remember him post-graduation (“Is my picture still hanging in her locker?”). It’s a shining example of how, despite being in their mid-twenties, Blink-182 could still effortlessly reflect the vulnerabilities of youth. Listen here.
“What’s My Age Again?”
Blink-182’s first crossover hit, “What’s My Age Again?,” brilliantly summed up the trio’s unashamedly immature ethos in just two-and-a-half-minutes of pogo-inducing punk-pop (“No one should take themselves so seriously/With many years ahead to fall in line/Why would you wish that on me?”). Originally titled “Peter Pan Complex,” it’s essentially an official mission statement for the manchildren of the world, and one which, thanks to an eye-catching promo that showcased their penchant for flesh-colored Speedos, had millions pledging their allegiance. The trio may have matured since – and expressed regret for their semi-nudity – but this remains one of their most infectious anthems, and a Billboard Hot 100 hit. Watch here.
“Adam’s Song”
Talk about a curveball. In among all the cartoonish punk riffs, breakneck speed beats and bawdy toilet humor, Blink-182 unexpectedly took a sobering detour into emo territory in the form of a Nirvana-referencing suicide note. Inspired by both the crippling isolation he experienced on tour and a magazine article about a young man who took his own life, Hoppus was initially concerned that “Adam’s Song” would bring down the mood of a record otherwise steeped in relatively harmless fun. But it proved to be a masterstroke, offering a welcome respite halfway through while also proving the trio could be just as potent when they took things a little more seriously. Watch here.
“All the Small Things”
Specifically crafted to appease label MCA, “All the Small Things” is unsurprisingly Blink-182’s biggest and most enduring hit, reaching No. 6 on the Hot 100 and becoming a permanent fixture on both the radio and MTV playlists of 1999. There’s a slight irony in how its memorable video, an affectionate mocking of teen-pop favorites such as Backstreet Boys and *NSYNC, effectively turned the anti-establishment trio into TRL favorites themselves. But while punk purists tutted their disapproval, it remains both a strangely sweet serenade – DeLonge penned it for future wife, Jennifer Jenkins – and with lines like “Late night, come home/Work sucks, I know,” a perfectly succinct summary of the mundanity of adulting. Watch here.