California is Blink-182’s home state and also its state of mind. For more than two decades, this band has made gleaming, sugary pop-punk about life without complications or consequences that could only truly grow in sunshine. That it has named its new album — its seventh, and first since 2011 — “California” feels like the sort of summation statement a band makes as it’s nearing its conclusion: here we were born, here we raged, here we will rage until the sun is no more.

So it’s notable that this album’s title track is more or less a dirge, a low-key almost-ballad buried near the end of the 16-track LP with a chorus that paints California as a prison: “Beautiful haze of suburbia/living in the perfect weather/spending time inside together.”

Blink-182 is growing up, a decade and a half after anyone asked it to, finding its seemingly carefree surroundings to be increasingly gloomy. “Save your breath I’m nearly/bored to death and fading fast/life is too short to last long” goes the chorus of “Bored to Death,” one of many songs here about regret and exhaustion.

And yet the members of Blink-182 — the frontman Mark Hoppus, who plays bass; Matt Skiba, who sings and plays guitar; and the drummer Travis Barker — are virtually incapable of a sound besides juvenile joy. It’s an aesthetic the group perfected in the late 1990s, when it stripped any final vestige of angst from punk, with results generally along the lines of “whiny whine mope/whiiiiny whiiine moooope/chug chug chug chug pow pow pow pow” (repeat 8 times) — pop-punk as structurally flawless as anything from the Brill Building or “Grease,” a saccharine soundtrack for high-fives and restless preteen energy.