The Government Is Lying; The Youth, They Won't Believe Them
A Box Car Racer Review
This past Monday my podcast, Filler, released the first of three episodes diving in on the importance of blink-182 to me. As each episode comes out, I’ll explore a part of the wider blink-verse here on the ol’ ‘stack. To start, we’ll figure out what the heck Box Car Racer is.
Box Car Racer? I Hardly Know ‘Er
I can’t remember the first time I heard Tom DeLonge’s “solo” record Box Car Racer. I was 9 years old when it came out, so my finger was yet to be glued to the pulse of popular music. Fortunately I had my older sister to get me started on all the cool music of the time, like Linkin Park, blink-182, and Korn.1
In a few years I’d go to high school where I’d become an emo/pop-punk kid, and I’d discover all these underground bands either local to New York, or playing on the smaller stages earlier in the day during Warped Tour. High school is also when I became a fiend for discovering everything there is about my favorite bands. I loved blink-182’s Dude Ranch and Enema of the State, but I wanted more from them. Since this is when the internet was still fun, I found my way to a super compressed download of Box Car Racer, which is what I used for this write-up. Keeping that fidelity felt appropriate instead of the gloss of lossless streaming.
Box Car Racer was a solo project of blink-182’s Tom DeLonge after their 2001 album, Take Off Your Pants and Jacket. According to Wikipedia, he was burnt out on touring and sought to do something that was not blink-related. He brought Travis Barker on, because everyone always knows only one drummer. Future Angels & Airwaves guitarist David Kennedy, along with Barker’s bassist friend, Anthony Celestino, joined them in the studio for the recording. The inimitable Jerry Finn, blink’s go-to-guy at the boards, produced.
Box Car Racer is generally darker than any other output from Tom that precedes it. The sophomoric humor that propped DeLonge up as a ne’er-do-well in the public eye is not present aside from “My First Punk Song.” which sounds like the band are just having fun in the studio more than making a song. The album contends with heartache, self-acceptance, and a deep resounding anger towards authority—most notably, the government.
Can’t You Wait? Maybe I Don’t Want to Go
“I Feel So” rips the hinges off the door of the album, but its main guitar riff is Tom foreshadowing Mark’s bass line from “I Miss You.” “All Systems Go” could have been cool with its paranoid dynamics, but it’s just the prototype for all the wall-of-guitars A&A songs to come (and blink’s mid-career miss, “Up All Night”).
DeLonge lets Rancid’s Tim Armstrong lead “Cat Like Thief,” similarly to how blink becomes Robert Smith’s backing band in “All of This.” The studio effects allow tons of space on Tom’s guitars and vocals, especially on the refrain, “Don’t leave her.” While this might have been an interesting sonic experiment the time, the passing of time has proved it to be little more than proto-A&A.
“Letters to God” remains the standout track. The lyrics are genuinely deep and meaningful, not just for a blink-verse track. DeLonge’s speaker struggles with God, making a deal not to sin, but also admitting they’re not ready to die. Exploding electric from acoustic into the excellent chorus truly feels thunderous and angry, not just in a “baby’s first punk song” kind of way. Ending on the dark E-minor is such a choice that leaves listeners feeling uneasy despite being an appropriate resolution. This song hit home when I was a kid because I was pissed off for all the pubescent reasons. Now I feel such empathy for my younger self and for any child (or person, really) pushing back against an authority figure.
Ups & Downs Got Me Frazzled
This was the first time I experienced Tom without Mark Hoppus, blink-182’s bassist and other singer. Historically, I have always been a Hoppus fan. I enjoyed the timbre of his voice more, thought his jokes were funnier, and I even grew up to become primarily a bassist in my music scene. This preamble is all to say I was confused and excited as hell when Hoppus showed up on “Elevator,” which is a fine if unremarkable song.
So why was this not a blink album if Mark shows up on the last track? Guess you should listen to the next episode of Filler to find out what Steve and I thought.
The Ashes Will Slowly Pile Up to Prove We’re Finally Done
The songs that hold up for me now are the same ones that I enjoyed as a wee lad, which is a validating conclusion for this music fan. Regardless of how I’ve changed as both a person and a music critic, I enjoyed the dark turn for Tom then as much as I do now. Following artists’ phases and creations is more fascinating to me than clamoring for the next of the same thing that they are known for. This album, along with further experimentation on 2003’s blink-182, led DeLonge to creating Angels & Airwaves, for which I’ll have something to discuss in a later newsletter.
If you give a listen to Box Car Racer, let me know what you think. Am I too blink-pilled to give it a fair shake in 2025? Have the years of hearing Tom’s spacey vision blurred my ears to the genius of his youth?
Thank you for your eyes, those things you read with.
