Green Day

The revisionist history on Green Day is that they were a snot-nosed bunch of acerbic punks who sang songs about masturbation before changing directions on 2004’s multi-multi-platinum concept record American Idiot. But maturity didn’t happen overnight, and all of the ingredients of Idiot fit neatly into the career arc that Green Day had been slowly charting since the breakout success of Dookie in 1994. It just took a while for their audience to catch up; for instance, while the Rolling Stone of 2009 gushes over the band’s expanded scope and moral fiber, the Rolling Stone of 2000 wondered whether “songs of faith, hope and social commentary” really marked the right direction for a trio of fun-lovin’ punks.

21st Century Breakdown follows right in the footsteps of American Idiot, with weighty subject matter and an ever-increasing musical palette. Billie Joe Armstrong has one of the most recognizable voices in pop music—in part because of its sheer ubiquity over the 15 years since Dookie, but he’s still a forceful presence, particularly on the band’s higher energy tracks. They find some highlights in explorations, like the hyper, Latin-influenced “Peacemaker” and the thrashing “Horseshoes and Handgrenades” (the song that sealed the cover’s Parental Advisory sticker, which kept it out of your local Wal-Mart). Mid-tempo, power-poppy tracks like “Last of the American Girls” and the soggy ballad “Last Night on Earth” wipe away all traces of punk from the band’s DNA, and not for the better.

Conceptually, Green Day are again tracing a couple of disenfranchised youths making their way in this crazy world of ours—and sometimes even Armstrong doesn’t sound that interested in continuing the story. It’s a testament to the paucity of high-profile political art in America that a lazy line like “My generation is zero / I never made it as a working class hero” can pass as insightful commentary, but such has been the case with the title track—a tone-setting opener that is stuffed with as much ambition (or self-indulgence, depending on your perspective) as Chinese Democracy. The rising drums and Edge-y guitars of the intro nod toward the band’s arena rock standing, then shift into fist-pumping pop-punk anthem mode. The tempo picks up even more around the three minute mark, then eventually settles into a classic-rock climax (there are more classic rock nods than ever)—with Armstrong resorting to pound-you-over-the-head lyrics to sum up the state of the union (“Dream, America, dream… Scream, America, scream”).

“East Jesus Nowhere” contains just the opposite: focused fury instead of scattershot social commentary. On this track, Armstrong restores the famous sneer to his vocals and tackles organized religion with direct attacks on the non-denominational “church of wishful thinking.” Even so, when the song seems set up for a “Holiday”-sized hook, it comes up short. And hooks—not trenchant social commentary—were what drew most of those millions of people to American Idiot. 21st Century Breakdown suffers by comparison, though, amidst the band’s familiar formulas, it does prove that the old punks still have some new tricks up their sleeves.

—Adam McKibbin
05.26.09

American Idiot was a rarity of the 21st century: a bona fide four-quadrant hit, earning critical and commercial respect, roping in new fans young and old alike. It was so big it turned Green Day into something it had never been before -- respected, serious rockers, something they were never considered during their first flight of success with Dookie. Back then, they were clearly (and proudly) slacker rebels with a natural gift for a pop hook, but American Idiot was a big album with big ideas, a political rock opera in an era devoid of both protest rock and wild ambition, so its success was a surprise. It also ratcheted up high expectations for its successor, and Green Day consciously plays toward those expectations on 2009's 21st Century Breakdown, another political rock opera that isn't an explicit sequel but could easily be mistaken for one, especially as its narrative follows a young couple through the wilderness of modern urban America. Heady stuff, but like the best rock operas, the concept doesn't get in the way of the music, which is a bit of an accomplishment because 21st Century Breakdown leaves behind the punchy '60s Who fascination for Queen and '70s Who, giving this more than its share of pomp and circumstance. Then again, puffed-up protest is kind of the point of 21st Century Breakdown: it's meant to be taken seriously, so it's not entirely surprising that Green Day fall into many of the same pompous tarpits as their heroes, ratcheting up the stately pianos, vocal harmonies, repeated musical motifs, doubled and tripled guitars, and synthesized effects that substitute for strings, then adding some orchestras for good measure. It would all sound cluttered, even turgid, if it weren't for Green Day's unerring knack for writing muscular pop and natural inclination to run clean and lean, letting only one song run over five minutes and never letting the arrangements overshadow the song. Although Green Day's other natural gift, that for impish irreverent humor, is missed -- they left it all behind on their 2008 garage rock side project Foxboro Hot Tubs -- the band manages to have 21st Century Breakdown work on a grand scale without losing either their punk or pop roots, which makes the album not only a sequel to American Idiot, but its equal. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, Rovi