By admin 
HangupsMusic.com – Los Angeles, The music world continues to mourn the profound loss of Chad Gilbert, the foundational guitarist and creative force behind New Found Glory, who passed away on September 20 at the age of 45 after a valiant struggle with brain cancer. Among the many whose lives were touched by Gilbert’s radiant presence, Blink-182’s co-lead vocalist and bassist, Mark Hoppus, a cancer survivor himself, has shared an intimate and moving tribute to his friend. Hoppus’s reflections paint a vivid portrait of a man whose infectious joy and unwavering optimism left an indelible mark on everyone he encountered, cementing a bond that transcended mere professional acquaintance to become a kinship akin to brotherhood.
Hoppus’s recollection of meeting Gilbert isn’t marked by a specific date, but rather a gradual unfolding, a consistent presence. Before New Found Glory became a household name in pop-punk, Gilbert and his circle of friends were fixtures at every Blink-182 concert in Florida. These were the early days, the burgeoning years of a scene that would soon explode, and in those formative moments, a camaraderie began to form. Gilbert, even then, stood out. Hoppus describes him as perpetually "smiling," radiating an almost unbelievable enthusiasm, a "fuck yes, life rules" energy that was both admirable and, at times, playfully exasperating. This wasn’t just a fan’s excitement; it was an innate, profound zest for life that defined Chad Gilbert.
It was amidst these consistent encounters that Hoppus learned of Gilbert’s own musical pursuits, a band called New Found Glory, with an album released on the then-influential Drive-Thru Records. The discovery was transformative for Hoppus. He found himself captivated by their sound, playing the album incessantly for friends, record labels, and radio stations, championing their cause with a fervor that spoke volumes about the quality of their music. His advocacy eventually led to New Found Glory joining Blink-182’s management and signing with their label, a pivotal moment that propelled the nascent band onto larger stages, including tours alongside Blink-182. This organic ascent, fueled by talent and genuine connection, laid the groundwork for a friendship that would deepen over the years.
As New Found Glory’s star began to rise, Gilbert’s presence in Hoppus’s life became even more pronounced. He remained the same effervescent character, his smile a constant fixture, his excitement palpable whether discussing new bands, video games, or even obscure toys he’d unearthed on tour. It was this childlike wonder, this unbridled enthusiasm for the simple pleasures of life, that endeared him to so many. Yet, beneath the surface of this boundless cheer, Hoppus would come to discover a deeper, more complex individual.
A significant turning point in their friendship occurred during Blink-182’s tour supporting their iconic album, Take Off Your Pants and Jacket, with New Found Glory as a supporting act. Gilbert frequently shared the tour bus with Hoppus and his wife, and it was during these long, winding journeys that a more vulnerable side of Chad emerged. Despite the mounting success of his band, the radio play, and the burgeoning fame, Gilbert confided in Hoppus that he felt lost and uncertain. The emotional weight of his confessions, juxtaposed with his public persona, offered Hoppus a profound insight into his friend’s inner world. It was a testament to their growing bond that Gilbert felt comfortable enough to share such profound sadness amidst the euphoria of his career. The very next day, the two would be on set for Blink-182’s "First Date" music video, with Gilbert famously throwing a baseball bat into a girl’s bicycle spokes, a moment of lighthearted absurdity that belied the deeper conversations of the night before.
These intimate discussions on the tour bus solidified Hoppus’s understanding of Gilbert’s true character. He recognized a "fighter," a "champion of joy." The term "joyous" might seem unusual for a punk rock musician, but Hoppus insists it encapsulated Chad perfectly. Gilbert embodied a pure, unadulterated happiness, a genuine love for people, new experiences, and, of course, music. He possessed an unwavering determination to confront negativity, to celebrate life regardless of the challenges. This relentless positivity, though at times "exhausting" in its intensity, was the essence of Chad Gilbert.
Their professional paths intertwined again in 2009 when Hoppus produced New Found Glory’s album, Not Without a Fight. This period was marked by creative tensions within the band, an underlying strain that occasionally erupted into heated arguments in the studio. Yet, through it all, it was Gilbert who consistently managed to steer the ship back to calmer waters. He would be the one to declare, "Okay, come on let’s do cool shit," arriving the next day with his characteristic smile and readiness to dive back into the work. This ability to navigate conflict with a positive outlook further underscored his remarkable resilience. Even in lighter moments, Gilbert’s unique interests shone through, like his persistent attempts to get Hoppus to play a Disney card game akin to Magic: The Gathering, featuring characters like Elsa and Olaf—a quirky detail that painted a fuller picture of his multifaceted personality.
In recent years, their bond took on an even more profound dimension as they both navigated the treacherous landscape of cancer. Hoppus, a survivor himself, found himself exchanging frequent texts with Gilbert about treatments, prognoses, medical terminology, and efficacy rates. It was a rollercoaster of hope and despair, new treatments offering glimmers of optimism only to sometimes fail, followed by the discovery of new tumors. Through this harrowing ordeal, Gilbert’s spirit remained remarkably buoyant. Hoppus recalls Gilbert’s Instagram posts during this period, depicting him in a hospital bed, surrounded by tubes, yet still flashing a triumphant smile, an image of unparalleled fortitude.
The last time Hoppus saw Chad was in Nashville, fittingly, at a Blink-182 show. Backstage was a whirlwind of activity—packing, goodbyes, even the unexpected presence of Luke Combs, and Hoppus’s wife deciding to adopt a dog. Amidst the chaos, Hoppus turned to find Chad. Though visibly weakened and relying on a cane, Gilbert’s joy remained undimmed. He embraced Hoppus, introducing him to his wife and daughter, a family that had endured unimaginable hardship. Yet, Gilbert was "happy"—genuinely so. He was delighted to see everyone, proud for his daughter to witness the spectacle of a rock show, content, and profoundly grateful.
Gilbert shared that while his current cancer treatment was yielding positive results, another issue had emerged. Hoppus expressed his sorrow, but Gilbert, with characteristic optimism, simply responded, "Mark, don’t worry about it! This one’s gonna work!" Their goodbye was brief, but Hoppus’s last image of Chad was etched in his memory: waving, smiling his joyous smile. The profound sense of loss is palpable in Hoppus’s concluding sentiment, "God dammit. I miss you already, little brother."
Chad Gilbert’s legacy is not just one of influential riffs and anthemic pop-punk songs, but of an extraordinary human spirit. He was a beacon of positivity, a testament to the power of joy in the face of adversity. His life, as remembered by Mark Hoppus, serves as a poignant reminder that even amidst the struggles, the laughter, the enthusiasm, and the unwavering fight can define a life well-lived, leaving an enduring mark on those fortunate enough to have known him.
