Bud Gaugh Reflects on Legacy, Jakob Nowell, and Sublime's New Chapter

Bud Gaugh still gets moved by those early rehearsals. In Modern Drummer's April 2026 issue (Vol. 50, No. 4), the Sublime founding drummer tells writer Danny "Ziggy" Laverde why staying present onstage is the only way to honor music this emotionally loaded, and why the current lineup, with Bradley Nowell's son Jakob up front, carries a weight unlike anything in the band's previous configurations.

The feature, "Bud Gaugh: Living in the Moment with Sublime," landed at a charged moment. Since late 2023, Gaugh and bassist Eric Wilson have been performing with Jakob Nowell, a trajectory that moved from intimate benefit shows to Coachella to last month's announcement of "Until the Sun Explodes," Sublime's first full-length in three decades. Due June 12 on Atlantic Records, the album features collaborations with H.R. of Bad Brains, Fletcher Dragge of Pennywise, and G Love, and represents the band's first new studio material since the 1996 self-titled record went 5x Platinum across more than 18 million RIAA-certified album sales. "Until the Sun Explodes is our reality," Gaugh said. "Thank you for enjoying life with us."

The Modern Drummer issue pairs the profile with a transcription of "Santeria" by Marc Atkinson, and the two pieces together build a precise technical portrait of Gaugh's drumming. Atkinson isolates one detail that defines the groove: Gaugh's hi-hat does not coincide with the snare on beats two and four. That single choice opens up his hands, lets the groove breathe, and creates the deep pocket that Sublime's ska-punk fusion depends on. Atkinson draws a direct line to Charlie Watts, who made the same philosophy famous with the Rolling Stones: unhurried time that serves the song rather than decorates it. Gaugh also brackets his fills with crash accents at both ends and layers subtle 16th-note hi-hat work into slower numbers, filling empty space with creative stickings rather than brute repetition.

None of that came out of nowhere. Gaugh grew up in Long Beach, California, started playing drums at age eight, and was taught by Eric Wilson's father Bill, who introduced jazz rhythms as, in Gaugh's framing, "the punk rock of its time." That dual inheritance, punk aggression underneath jazz patience, is audible throughout the Sublime catalog and is exactly what the current live show demands from him night after night.

The generational dimension makes the story more complicated and more interesting than a standard reunion narrative. Jakob Nowell was born on June 25, 1995, in Long Beach, the same city where his father helped invent the sound. He has described the new album as an epilogue rather than a continuation: "The last Sublime record that will ever be made is Self-Titled. There's no replacing history, period." Gaugh behind the kit is the connective tissue between those two chapters; nobody in that rhythm section is approximating the history.

Sublime heads into a full touring season, including two nights at Red Rocks Amphitheatre marking the 30th anniversary of the self-titled album. The Grammy Museum is running its exhibit "Sublime: Straight From Long Beach," featuring handwritten lyrics and band artifacts, through September 7.

Play It Today

Classic groove: Pull up "Santeria" and focus on one thing: whether your hi-hat lands with your snare on beats two and four. Gaugh keeps them separate, and that gap is where the pocket lives. Practice the pattern at 60 BPM before bringing it to tempo. Slow practice reveals what full speed obscures.

Fill concept: Gaugh opens and closes his fills with crash accents at both ends. Take any single-stroke fill you already know and add a crash as a bookend on each side. The result is a musical statement with a clear beginning and end rather than a run that disappears into the next bar.

Endurance tip: Sublime's catalog runs hard across ninety-minute festival sets. The right hand stays controlled because Gaugh feathers the hi-hat rather than hammers it. Spend ten minutes of your next practice session deliberately lightening that stroke during straight timekeeping. Your wrist and shoulder will register the difference long before the second set.