Growing up, Jakob Nowell never wanted to join Sublime. The idea of ‘getting the band back together’ felt inauthentic and a cheap route to fame. When Jakob turned 28, he visited The Phoenix Theater in Petaluma, CA, where his father, Bradley Nowell, played his final show with Sublime. This spiritual visit solidified the concept of joining Sublime as a legitimate way to honor his father’s legacy.
In late 2023, Jakob got together with his uncles and original Sublime members Eric Wilson (bass) and Bud Gaugh (drums) to rehearse and jam for a benefit concert supporting Bad Brains’ lead singer H.R. The show was a great success and led to an invitation for the trio to perform at Coachella – the first show for the group to be simply billed as Sublime since Bradley’s passing in 1996.
Coachella 2024 made it official: Sublime was back. Over the past year, Nowell has become the face of the legendary ska-punk outfit and is blowing audiences away with his voice, which seamlessly resembles his father’s but with its own distinct flair. On stage, Jakob is not trying to imitate his dad; his only concern is how to best carry on Sublime’s discography.
Sublime’s new song “Ensenada,” which officially drops on Friday July 18, confirms Jakob knows what he’s doing as frontman. It’s the first song to be fully written and recorded by the new lineup. If you didn’t know that, you would have no idea, as the single carries the nostalgic Sublime vibe, fit for a day cruising along the Jersey Shore (or any beach for that matter).
Recently, I spoke with Jakob a few days before “Ensenada” dropped, to discuss new music, Asbury Park, recession pop, and celebrating Bradley Nowell’s career.
“Ensenada” is out Friday, July 18. Tell me about recording the song and how it came to be.
It’s the first truly new one since the original lineup, but all the songs off the upcoming record are based on unreleased Sublime material from the ‘90s. Our goal is to keep it as close to the original Sublime sound as possible and ensure we’re being authentic. The band agrees it’s not a good idea for us to push into a new direction sonically; however, a new lineup always brings a little bit of new personality to the mix. The goal of the new record is to act as a tribute to that original work of material. Let’s be real, we could never surpass or eclipse that era.
Why “Ensenada” as the first single?
No real reason at all. It’s like throwing a dart at the dartboard. When I work with my other band, Jakob’s Castle, I see so many bands trying to create something commercially viable and catchy. With Sublime, we aren’t trying to write the next “Santeria” or “What I Got,” we’re just having fun. We have no interest in chasing after the big hit; we aren’t hunting the white whale, so to speak.
Instead of trying to write hits, we just try to write fun songs that amuse us. To that token, so much of Sublime wasn’t just funny or irreverent; it also talked about life and its complexities. William Faulkner said, “The only thing worth writing about is the human heart in conflict with itself,” and that’s definitely a big part of our music.
You mentioned your solo project, Jakob’s Castle. How does your solo work influence playing with Sublime?
It’s all one big, holistic thing, for sure, but with each project, you have a different toolbox that you’re utilizing. Anytime you bring something to fruition, you naturally develop new skill sets and direction. The more I work on both, the more one informs the other, and these experiences will go on to inform any other future projects I’m a part of. A beautiful part of making music is seeing how your styles evolve in different contexts. With Sublime, I’m trying to do it very accurately and not mess with the legacy too much.
The fans are loving your time with Sublime, which hit a year in April. How have the live shows been going? Did it take long to get into the flow?
It takes bands a long time to get comfortable with each other. I should say lineups because Bud and Eric are the band. The live lineup is a bunch of different people, and it took a while to get to a place where we are comfortable. Now, when we play shows, it’s like, ‘off to the races,’ it’s so fun, like we’re going to a water park, having a good time. The recent shows have been great, and when people come out to see us, they know that no two shows are the same.
You’re coming to the East Coast later this summer, including a headline set at Sea.Hear.Now. As a California band, Sublime didn’t play the East Coast too much. What are you looking forward to about coming out east and playing in Asbury?
I love the East Coast. When I was a kid, my grandparents took me to this camp in Amherst, Massachusetts, for the summer, and it was so old school and stuff. It’s so interesting and fun to play there, because everything has just been there longer. People appreciate music more out there. At least compared to LA. You play a set in LA and want them to be stoked, and they’re
kind of standing watching pensively. But, I’ve been to Asbury Park and the Stone Pony before Sublime, and it’s great. The vibe is, “Let’s all go jump in the water after the set.”
We need Sublime at the Stone Pony Summerstage! As someone from Long Beach, CA, playing on the beach is common for you. How does the beach influence your music?
I couldn’t imagine living anywhere other than the beach. I think it’s good for your health to live by the salty water and air. It’s a place where I can come up with my best stuff. Genuine music is always going to be a reflection of your surroundings and environment, and that’s been the story for Sublime.
What is it like playing on the sand compared to a large indoor venue?
Playing on the beach is the most fun. Doing giant shows with a huge crowd seems more fun before you do one. Once you play one, you realize it’s more fun for your ego. I’ll play for 40,000-60,000 people, but it’s hard to give a meaningful performance like that.
The type of acts that utilize crazy pyrotechnics, lights, visuals, and dancers are the ones fit for playing to 80,000 people. I’m very grateful that Sublime gets to play these big events and festivals, but it makes more sense to see us in a somewhat smaller, more intimate setting. Music reaches people much more powerfully if it’s a smaller thing, especially on the beach or in a small venue. Then again, it is pretty cool playing for that many people.
Do you have a quintessential beach record?
Independent Worm Saloon by the Butthole Surfers. What about you? Don’t say Jack Johnson, everyone says that one.
Probably the debut Vampire Weekend LP.
They’re great, but when I think of their early stuff and recession pop, it reminds me of selling iPods and “It’s a holiday–rent this car today,” [Jakob mimics the Honda commercial with Vampire Weekend’s “Holiday”]. Everything from the early 2010s, like The Black Keys, Lumineers, and Imagine Dragons, was rad, but they needed cash and took advertisement opportunities. I understand their motives, but the production style ends up sounding synonymous with consumerism – it’s so weird.
I love The Black Keys, but it can be tough to hear their music in every commercial.
I love all that music, too. It’s crazy, you hear a Black Keys song over a Toyota Ad, and it makes one question, “What do we actually use music for?” If I’ve only ever interacted with someone’s music through commercialism, then I’m forever going to associate it with being invented for commercialism. Was the music created to sell iPods, or was it created to be complicated and affect people’s emotions and thoughts? I’m in the camp that it can’t be both. It cannot be both, no matter how subversive you are.
We’ll give The Black Keys a pass, because I’m pretty sure those dudes were working at a steel mill before they popped off. Bands like The Strokes don’t get a pass because Julian Casablancas grew up rich and got all this awesome gear and stuff.
People assume that about me, but that was not the case growing up. I didn’t get any sick ass guitars. I was playing for 10 people a show for 12 years of my career. So now, I just feel lucky to play with Sublime.
You started playing with Sublime in 2023 to perform for a benefit show, and a few months later, you played Coachella. Growing up, did you consider joining Sublime?
It was actually the exact opposite. I told people, “I’ll do it if I’m 50 years old and broke.” It’s funny that we mentioned all that stuff about what music is made for, the authenticity of music, being a performer, and all those things. Because a big part of my coming up was that it would feel inauthentic to join Sublime or to utilize opportunities on behalf of my late father, it just seemed wrong and crude.
I really wanted to do this thing for the love of doing it. I love traveling in a van, sleeping on floors, and staying up for three days at a time. I love the grueling aspect of touring and traveling, and getting to perform to small audiences. It’s always been my thing. I didn’t grow up in Los Angeles or in a mansion, and that’s not to say I came up out of the muck. Everyone’s got varying paths; we’re all humans. We’re all complicated.
There were plenty of people who were interested in what I was doing because of my relationship to an established, late musician. For the longest time, I would eschew those opportunities in lieu of some phony sense of authenticity, and I never, ever, ever wanted to join Sublime. It didn’t feel like it was the right thing to do for my career.
However, I turned 28, the same age that my dad was when we passed, and I took a trip to the Phoenix Theater, the resting place of his last performance. I had a spiritual experience there, and shortly after, I reconnected with Bud and Eric by playing at this H.R. benefit concert.
Before then, I got to the point in my career where I would say I’ll never play a Sublime song live. But I agreed to do it since it was for charity, and the show went great.
Then, Paul Tolett invited us to play Coachella because he’s a huge ska punk fan. So, I looked myself in the mirror, and I was like, “All right, if I was ever going to do it, let’s try to do it now.” I try to live my life with no regrets. I have no idea if it was the right decision or not, and if joining the band will forever overshadow my other achievements and never allow me to eclipse what I’ve done in the past. And I don’t know if people will ever enjoy anything I create more than this. What I do know is the truth, and that’s that I’m having fun and playing with my uncles is healing.
I hope you’re feeling confident in your choice because the shows seems to be going great. Sublime is a band whose popularity has reached a level in the past decade that it never reached in the ‘90s. What is it like seeing a new generation find Sublime?
It’s funny because when I’m living my normal life, checking out at a cash register or sitting down for dinner, I’ll bump into someone, and they’ll ask, “What do you do for work?” I say, “I play in a band called Sublime.” Their response is always, “No way! Sublime! Get out of town!” or “Never heard of ‘em.” If I try to downplay the fact that I play in Sublime, people will think I’m a dick because, to some, it’s such a well-known band.
My point is that, in the ‘90s, Sublime didn’t reach Nirvana or Pearl Jam fame, so now that we have a larger following, it really puts the discography in perspective. It’s been my dream as a son to try to push my father’s work to as many people as possible, to honor the legacy of my forebears. This is my position in life: to be the steward of this catalog.
If you go to our shows, you will see our audiences are literally multi-generational, everywhere from teenagers to people in their 20s, 30s, 40s, and onwards. Sublime’s music transcends generations. It wasn’t meant to just be enjoyed in the ’90s. That’s just the beginning, and although that was such a beautiful era for music and creative culture in general, I see a brave new era, a new epoch for West Coast alternative music that I hope shall be shared around the world for future generations to come.
Hell yeah. Thank you, Jakob, I hope to see you at Sea.Hear.Now.
Of course, I’ll catch you at the fest, bro. Peace and rock n’ roll man, good luck on your journey!
