LIVE PERFORMANCE REVIEWS
Green Day IS punk
Lauren Gaetano
A while back, I saw an episode of VH1’s Best Week Ever that declared punk was dead. The evidence? The Ramones and the Sex Pistols are now in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Green Day included a 9-minute ballad on their latest album entitled “Jesus of Suburbia.”
Bah, I said. Punk can’t be defined solely by a style of music. Music evolves. Things that were once underground become mainstream. To deny the Ramones and the Sex Pistols their influence on American music because it might damage their street cred is absurd. And to dismiss a song because it does not follow the standard three-minute punk format is equally so. For Green Day to release a high concept, politically charged rock opera during a time where iTunes and country music reign supreme is the most “punk” thing anyone has done in years.
And to infiltrate the mainstream as thoroughly as they did with “American Idiot” is even more impressive in its way. You can accuse them of selling out. But I have to wonder what the point of having a message is if you only preach to the converted. And as I watched an eight year old boy walk by me in the parking lot, wearing a short sleeved dress shirt, ripped trousers, spiked hair and eyeliner, I couldn’t help but raise my beer can in salute. It may not be cool, hip or underground, but if it can get a third grader to declare that he no longer wants to be an American idiot, I’ll take it.
As it was, Green Day’s performance at Gillette Stadium on Saturday night was about the furthest thing from CBGB’s you could imagine. The set was lavishly decorated with four large projection TV’s, a light board that spelled out the band’s name (or Queen lyrics as appropriate), and several flame throwers. The T-shirt-ready album art of “American Idiot” provided the backdrop, and the band, joined by a small horn section and an additional guitarist, was dressed in matching, color-coded suits, as they always seem to be these days. I wonder if the White Stripes mind that they stole their gang colors.
Anyway, songs from their latest album dominated the set, but the band knew exactly which ones the audience wanted to hear. Their four radio hits from the album were given rousing performances, as well as the slightly less obvious tunes, “We Are the Waiting” and the aforementioned “Jesus of Suburbia.” Both of those tracks stood out on the album to me as being throw backs to good old 80’s arena rock cheese, and the effect in Gillette Stadium did not disappoint. The crowd sang in all the right places, waved their hands in the air like they just didn’t care, and raised their lighters and cell phones in solidarity. The ages in the audience ranged from small children to people well into their middle ages, but in those moments, we were all 16 and wallowing in misguided angst. Rock on.
The rest of the set was fast paced and crowd pleasing, jumping from one monster hit to the next. The only time the show stopped to take a breath was during a sort of intermission, where front man Billie Joe Armstrong led the audience in a sing along of “Shout” and “Stand By Me.” I have no idea why they ever thought that would work, or why it ultimately did. But there it was, and I enjoyed it. The highlight of the show by far was when, after introducing the band, Armstrong asked if anyone in the audience might like to come up and play for a while. “Does anybody play the drums?” he asked.
He was of course bombarded with a wave of volunteers, but after some good-natured bullying, (“You seriously know how to play? Seriously? How long? Two years? You any good? You don’t sound too confident...”), he plucked three aspiring musicians from the audience, gave them a few pointers, and set them loose. The song was simple enough where anyone who was remotely competent could get the hang of it, but the audience cheered for these kids like they were rock gods. And the kids, clearly overwhelmed and extremely stoked to be playing an arena, played the part. When it was all over, Armstrong ordered the drummer to do a stage dive, and told the guitarist to keep the guitar. Those kids will be talking about that night until the day they die, and it was one of the coolest and most high-energy moments I have ever witnessed live.
The encore consisted of their two ballads, “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” and their career trajectory changing, “Good Riddance (Time of Your Life).” A more jubilant than necessarily competent cover of “We Are the Champions” followed, and by the time the final pyrotechnic effect was shot off, one got the feeling they had witnessed a real live, honest to goodness rock show. Was it punk? Was it a sell out? To see the band in action is to know they don’t really give a shit. They're just having a good time. And what is more punk than that?
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