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Pitchfork Gave the New Sublime Album a 4.7 Because They’ve Clearly Never Been to the Surf Mall and Don’t Understand Salt Life 

Matt Schultz

By Matt Schultz

Published:

photo credit: Kinker

Sublime is back with a new album, featuring the original lineup with the late Bradley Nowell’s son Jakob filling in as singer and frontman, and Pitchfork are not fans. The notoriously insufferable music publication gave Until The Sun Explodes a 4.7 out of 10, which is a wildly low score. For context, Pitchfork’s average score is around a 7. They gave Machine Gun Kelly’s Mainstream Sellout a 5.8. They gave Drake’s For All The Dogs a 6.5. They gave Eminem’s Revival a 5.0. Those albums are all ass, and Pitchfork liked them more than the new Sublime record. Pitchfork hated Until The Sun Explodes. Pitchfork would prefer it if this record did not exist.

I’ve listened to this record three times. I like it a lot. It’s a fun summer album, and I think the band achieved exactly what it set out to do – make an album of new Sublime songs, nothing more, nothing less. Jakob’s got a cool voice. He sounds just like Bradley. Kind of a cool thing how kids can sound like their parents. The production is great. The hooks are catchy. I’m looking forward to throwing it on while driving down the AC Expressway this Thursday, heading into the long weekend. What else would you want from a new Sublime record? Doesn’t that all sound pretty good? It does to me. My early review of the album is a simple “Hell yeah.” Which is why I was pretty surprised to see Pitchfork slam the album with a 4.7.

Then I read the review by Sadie Sartini Garner….

And it all makes sense now.

Here’s what I’m seeing: Pitchfork simply doesn’t get Sublime because they clearly have never been to the Surf Mall. They’re just not as Salt Life as us…

You can tell just from the quotes. This is the least Salt Life stuff I’ve ever read in my life:

Led by the son of their late frontman Bradley Nowell, a reformed Sublime take a studied and airless approach to recapturing their signature sound. It has all the data but little of the soul.

Not surprisingly, Until the Sun Explodes sounds like a classic Sublime album. But it’s strangely airless and almost distracted; it lacks the hyper-presence of the band’s classic records.” 

The fidelity to the band’s history makes the music feel stagnant.

And yet, for all of its authenticity, Until the Sun Explodes never feels like the real deal. Maybe it’s the studiousness of the band’s approach, maybe it’s the fact that clearing name-brand samples is way more expensive in 2026 than it was in 1996, but the entire thing feels like a museum exhibit… Like an AI chatbot, Until the Sun Explodes has all the data but little of the soul that made Sublime transcendent.

The hell is this writer talking about? Pitchfork is missing the whole point. Sublime is not Radiohead. Sublime is not Kendrick Lamar. No one’s been waiting for Sublime to develop their sound and push new boundaries. No one cares about Sublime’s lyrical content, or its place in the modern musical landscape, or whether the new album lacks “hyper-presence” (???).

If a Sublime record is something you’re looking forward to putting on for the drive to OCNJ, then it’s a good Sublime record – and that’s what Until The Sun Explodes is.

And Pitchfork would understand this if they’ve ever done any of the following:

-Stared at the band shirts on the back wall of the Surf Mall

-Struggled to pick between a Dio Holy Diver t-shirt and a classic Ramones t-shirt on the back wall of the Surf Mall

-Went with the Holy Diver tee at the Surf Mall

-Stared at all the cool grinders under the glass by the t-shirt wall at the Surf Mall

-Stared at the tie-dye shirts in the back-left area of the Surf Mall

-Bought a Grateful Dead Terrapin Station t-shirt from the back-left area of the Surf Mall

-Hoped no one asked you too much about your Grateful Dead t-shirt you bought at the Surf Mall because you’re not that huge of a fan, just thought the turtle cartoon design was cool

-Took out a hacky sack from the clear plastic jar of hacky sacks by the registers at the Surf Mall, played with it in your hands for a few moments, then put it back in the jar

-Checked out the blue light room in the back left of the Surf Mall

-Left the blue light room at the Surf Mall pretty quickly, not much to see back there, also smells weird

-Been a teenager discreetly staring at the Pink Floyd poster where there are painted asses at the Surf Mall

-Bought a black and white Dumb and Dumber poster for your dorm room at the Surf Mall

-Thought about trying the Oxygen Bar at the Surf Mall 

-Opted not to try the Oxygen Bar at the Surf Mall due to fear 

-Thought about buying a sick chain at the jewelry area in the very front of the Surf Mall

-Opted not to buy a chain at the Surf Mall due to fear of looking dumb in a chain

-Wished you had your ear pierced while looking at cool earrings at the Surf Mall

-Bought knockoff Rainbow flip-flops at the Surf Mall

-Tried on some dusty-ass sunglasses at the Surf Mall

-Found some sick Hurley board shorts with a bottle opener attached to the waistband at the Surf Mall

-Put the Hurley board shorts back after looking at the price at the Surf Mall

-Exited onto the boardwalk with a bag full of merch you don’t actually like all that much, but bought because you were lightheaded and overwhelmed and having fun in the Surf Mall

Let us know if you ever get to the Surf Mall, Pitchfork, and finally learn what Salt Life is all about. Until then, keep your Sublime takes to yourself. 


Kinkead: This album isn’t a 10 out of 10, but it’s definitely not a 4.7 out of 10. It’s a grower. You have to frame this contextually by understanding that there will never be another 40 Oz. to Freedom, but there can be good Sublime music again. We’ve had 30 years to absorb and memorize those songs and play them over and over and over again, so it’s gonna take some time for these tracks to click. And by the way, the Sublime with Rome albums were very good as well.

Kinkead 2: by the way, you should only trust a Sublime album review if it comes from a California surfer type or an East Coast skater/white trash type. Those are the people with credibility in this space. I am a proud member of the latter group.

Matt Schultz

Matt Schultz is a comedy and sports writer from Philadelphia. He’s written extensively for ClickHole, The Onion, and Conan O’Brien’s Team Coco. His work has been featured in Vulture, Deadspin, The A.V. Club, Paste Magazine, and other publications. Much of his sports journalism can be found on college basketball websites that don’t exist anymore (PhilaHoops Heads rise up…) email: M.Schultz@sportradar.com

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