You used to keep chickens named after women from Blink-182 songs. Which was your favourite?
There was Wendy, Holly, Josie … I forget the others. We lived in London, but also had a 25-acre farm out in Somerset with a Georgian farmhouse that was built in 1750. A guy from the British Beekeeping Association, who worked at the local church, would come over and help me open up my hives and harvest the honey. It was crazy how much honey we got – up to 150 jars a season. It was the best honey I’ve ever tasted.
Did you really have to sell your Banksy because you were worried someone might steal it?
It was more that we worried it would get damaged. People would come over, lean in way too close with a glass of red wine and say: “Is that really a Banksy?” The more money it was worth, the more precious we got with it. Eventually, it was so much stress, we sold it and gave some of the money to charity. My charity is haematology oncology research. My wife volunteers at Children’s Hospital Los Angeles. It was right after the fires in LA, so we wanted to donate to the Firefighters Association. I also wanted to take some of the money and invest in new up-and-coming artists.
Are you surprised you’re not dead?
I am very surprised I’m not dead. When I was diagnosed, my doctor said the good news was there was only one treatment for the type of cancer, so I didn’t have to agonise over whether to choose radiation or surgery or try an experimental drug. The only treatment was R-CHOP chemotherapy, but it was still the worst chemotherapy you can undergo, and my doctor said: “You only have a 60% chance of living through this and never having to deal with it again.” Chemotherapy feels like you’re being crushed. They give you a massive dose of steroids – the same steroids they give me when I lose my voice on tour – but instead of one or two pills, I was on a packet a day, which would send me hyper-crazy. Then, when they give you the actual drugs, you can feel them burning the cancer cells out of your body, like you’re on fire from the inside.
Do you believe in UFOs as much as your Blink-182 bandmate Tom Delonge?
Ever since I met Tom, when we’d be touring in a van and we were taking turns driving, Tom would sit up all night looking at the skies, just hoping to see a UFO. When the internet was invented, it was like it opened his door to all the cons, conspiracies and theories. I don’t presume that the only life in the universe is here on this one little planet out in the middle of nowhere. I’ve heard that we’ve never gone to the moon and it was a hoax perpetuated at a sound stage in Burbank. I’ve also heard that the reason that Kennedy was assassinated was because when we went to the moon, the astronauts saw a secret glass structure on the dark side of the moon that Kennedy was going to expose to the world. But both ideas sound a bit crazy.
What’s the weirdest WhatsApp group you’re in?
Probably just one with a bunch of other musicians, creators and business owners, where we talk about the world.
What were you like at school?
I grew up in a military base in the middle of the desert because my dad was a rocket scientist and worked for the navy. There was nothing to do and I felt kind of alone. Then my parents got divorced, and I felt really alone. I didn’t feel myself until I got into skateboarding when I was 13. That was the first time I felt like I found my people and my community. All the outsiders, all the losers and all the unpopular people were welcomed into the skateboarding community. At first, I got into alternative goth music. I was a big fan of the Cure and would dress up as Robert Smith and walk into school in all black, with my hair all up, black eyeliner and red lipstick, which wasn’t really the look for the middle of the desert. But I felt like that was who I wanted to be. I felt like I needed to plant my flag and say: “I’m not like the rest of you guys.”
When did you last cry?
On stage, which was embarrassing, because it was in front of a lot of people.
Who are your top three other bass players?
Peter Hook from New Order. Simon Gallup from the Cure. And the two bass players from Ned’s Atomic Dustbin, who are the best, because they had two bass players. Bass players are just cool. Bass players are the glue – we’re the one that brings it all together. We’re the bridge between the rhythm of the drums and the melody of the guitar and the vocal.
What do you think about the state of the US right now?
I think the whole world feels confused by what’s going on in the US right now. Every US citizen, the supporters, dissenters, resisters, are like: what the hell’s going on? You try to read to get to the actual facts, but everything is clickbait now. It’s all headlines that are meant to enrage you. We were sitting next to an English couple at breakfast the other morning and struck up a conversation and the first thing they asked is: “What do you guys think of Trump?” Being here in England, I haven’t really noticed anti-American sentiment or anything with our accents.
Is that story about Oasis true?
Yes. Blink was kind of just starting out when Oasis were first big. We got a chance to meet them when we were on the same bill. Liam came into our dressing room and said: “Are you guys Blink-182? You’re the best I’ve seen in America.” Tom said: “Oh, that’s awesome. You like our band?” and Liam said: “No, I didn’t say I like your music. I just think you guys are cool.”
Fahrenheit-182: A Memoir by Mark Hoppus is out now. He is speaking at Melbourne Recital Hall on 19 March and Sydney Opera House on 21 March
