CD Review: The Network – “Money Money 2020 Part II: We Told Ya So!” (2020)

Of every group that has lain dormant for years on end, none are more exciting to me than the reemergence of The Network. At the risk of breaking internet protocol, the band was designed as this oddball side project made up predominantly of Green Day members and their touring guitarist Jason White. Whereas they were more pop-punk, preparing to take over the world with “American Idiot,” this small side project was new wave and encapsulated everything that was fun about early-80s groups like DEVO and The Talking Heads. They were high concept and full of lowbrow humor. Their sole album “Money Money 2020” was at best a novelty, much like Green Day’s other side projects like Foxboro Hot Tubs.

But the thing is that I personally love the world building that The Network created. It was in having crazy names like Fink, Van Gough, The Snoo, Z, Captain Underpants, and Balducci. It was how their album was arguably a concept record about a dystopian world where consumerism was the drug of choice. It was very much a George W. Bush Era album, even if it never outright specified names and places. If anything, it was fun to hear them build a world with songs like “Supermodel Robots” and “Reto.” There was creative anarchy to it all, and I love the record even if it’s far from flawless.

So of course “Money Money 2020 Part II: We Told Ya So!” is going to be exciting. What could the novelty band possibly have to say now that it is 2020? I don’t know that the first was necessarily prophetic, but I do love the idea of randomly getting the band back together, to see where these guys are at. If anything, it’s a chance for them to spread their creative muscles and mold the world around their sci-fi insanity. Do we have a moment on par with “Spike,” where it’s just one long track about a man trying to get drug money? Would we get the sound of police sirens backing a song about a guy who sounds wired? The endless opportunities here are enough to make me excited.

I understand that this is a different time and, in some capacity, Green Day hasn’t been the same since “American Idiot.” While I am less down on the trilogy (“Uno!,” “Dos!,” “Tre!”) than most, I recognize that their work has become less consistent, and I don’t know if I’ll ever get around to 2020’s “Father of All Motherfuckers,” which by all accounts is their worst. You have to wonder where these guys are at right now, and I think it shows in every impulsive decision they make here. I am not opposed to them releasing a 25 track, 54-minute album. If this is the last we’ll ever hear from them, they more than deserve it.

But still, there is something a bit jarring about “Money Money 2020 Part II.” Whereas the first album was full of fictional tissue, where they were more singing about the ideas of addiction and moral corruption, here is an album that feels very much of the moment. Given that the lead single was the unsubtly named “Ivankkka is a Nazi,” it’s clear who they were targeting. This isn’t inherently a bad thing and it’s actually one of the best songs on here. It’s just that when you created this vivid world on your first album, why is it that so little attention is paid to expanding it, maybe even giving a song a sequel, to reflect how these alien characters relate to modern absurdity?

Before getting into the album, my personal question is what this album’s defiant spirit is supposed to symbolize. Why is this coming out in December, a near month after The American Presidential Election? For those who listen to the record, it’s clear that The Network have a lot of gripes with contemporary politics and yet treats it here as an afterthought. They think they’re tough and cool because they’re calling Ivankkka a Nazi, but… the only way that song would hold any power right now is if Joe Biden didn’t win the election if we’re a month off from a second administration. What we have here is an album full of complaints and grievances that we all have, but most of us have been submitting them for comment for years now. Again, it wouldn’t be so bad if there was more of a fictive spirit running through this album’s narratives instead of going so far as to reference COVID-19 and herd immunity.

So, looking past that let’s ask the question: is the album good? At 25 songs, it definitely feels overbearing at times with several different stylistic motifs growing redundant the longer that they go on. Even if the average song is about two minutes, some feel like they go on for too long and also keeps many of the ideas from evolving and becoming something more organic. With that said, this may be the most vital and exciting that a Green Day-adjacent record has been in years. There’s clearly the sense of friends getting together to play wild new wave. The harmonies are tighter and the guitars bouncing more sporadically. There’s even the song “Respirator” about losing your breath… while continuing to sing anyway. There is a sense of humor here, and I’m sure a lot of these songs work better individually. It’s just that, as a whole, you’re witnessing an underwhelming follow-up. 

I say this not because The Network are out of ideas, but it feels like the time away has made the overall vision a little blurred. In the place of these fun, ambiguous ditties is a singular sound, where every song is aiming for a sameness that is nowhere near as fun or distinctive. On “Money Money 2020,” you could tell the difference between “Joe Robot” and “Roshambo.” Here, you’re not likely to hear the loud and fast tracks and get much of a difference. There is humor, but it’s more baked into the lyrics, not really developing much of a personality.

With that said, everything starts off well enough with “The Prophecy,” which finds the band cheekily talking about how they predicted the future. As they’ll say “We’re right, you’re wrong.” It’s the perfect piece of arrogance, even if it sounds a bit overproduced. It carries nicely into the next song “Theory of Reality” where the mission statement is made. Fink takes lead vocals while asking about what is real anymore? In the era of fake news, it’s the type of comical perspective that should make this album a lot better. The first major hit from this album is “Trans Am,” which has especially fun lyrics:

Cruising the streets of my hypocrisy

Nuclear power from the 70's

A retro bomb at the starting line

She is a beauty she's my Frankenstein

For those with the patience to comb through the lyrics, this album is full of fun ideas. The issue is that the substance of it all makes a lot of it difficult to recognize. At times, like with “Carolina’s Ultimate Netflix Tweet,” there’s an absence of logic behind it. Some could read this as a satire about how vapid social media and apps have made us, but even then one could hope that it’d be treated as more than a forgettable 90-second joke. Others, like “Flat Earth,” work a little better by taking to task the idea of why anyone would take this seriously. It’s here that this quasi-comic approach to commentary makes the most sense.

But again, it’s stuck in-between songs like “Digital Black” and “Hey Elon.” The album is almost packed with too many ideas and they all barely exist. What are they saying that’s substantial? At times the album is downright antagonistic, more existing as a riff on modern culture than providing anything memorable. With their 2003 album, they at least built a world of escapism, that wasn’t as obviously rooted in the present. Here, it’s difficult to look at songs like “Jerry Falwell’s Pool Party” and, you know, not think of the real-life Jerry Fallwell. Sure, it’s amusing to see The Network take on self-righteous religious leaders, but part of me craves their fiction.

While none of it is as fun as the first time around, their world-building songs have a few memorable parts. “Respirator” finds The Snoo losing his breath while singing about it. It’s a goofy and clever joke that never draws too much attention to itself. That’s followed by the even more absurd yet infectious “Squatter,” which is a quasi-noir song about somebody living in his house. We don’t know much about him, but you can’t help but wonder what’s going on with the cat box even though The Snoo claims that he doesn’t own a cat.

The real highlight of this side of the album comes at the very end with “Amnesia Vagabond.” Van Gough sings about adventuring through space, thinking out loud about his own desperation. It’s a tragic song, but one that paints a vivid picture of the isolation he feels. It’s one of the few connective tissues throughout the album, focusing on the band’s own isolation in these trying times. In just a few lyrics, he sings:

Travelling through time and space

Bandages across my face

Intergalactic man on the run

It’s the type of moment that grows quiet, allowing for a different side to this sci-fi side project. While the rest of the album speeds through like a steel train, this is a chance to find some existential crisis, build emotions, and most of all recognize the value of this weird world. I wish that there was more emphasis on these things instead of contemporary politics. I’m not saying to remove songs like the closer “Art of the Deal with the Devil,” but maybe recontextualize it in such a way that it fits with their 2003 album. Get a little stranger with your anger.

In fairness, songs like “Degenerate” are doing fun things with the instrumentation. The harmonies are some of the most enjoyably idiosyncratic. There’s reason to suggest that this album, while not a magnum opus, could be much better. It’s an album of contrasting ideas fighting each other, and it’s as successful as it is messy. I love when it works and overall there’s no outright terrible song. However, one has to wonder what these creative minds could’ve come up with over 15 years of downtime. Some of it feels slapped together, written and produced in a matter of hours. That wouldn’t be so bad if this wasn’t likely the only time we ever see them again. With that said, “Cancer is the New Black” is a whole lot of fun.

The best comparison point to me is Borat Subsequent Moviefilm (2020). Both are early-2000s projects that were built on this idea of ambiguity and finding ways to comment on the world around them. At the time, it was the struggle to destroy our reality with their fiction. However, in 2020, both have taken to just saying that the world is too strange to destroy anymore. In some ways, they have become obsolete. The only difference is that Borat Subsequent Moviefilm at least tried to make their fiction more sympathetic, full of a unique life. As a result, it’s still a fulfilling experience.

“The Network Part II: We Told Ya So!” doesn’t quite get there. It tries, but this is at best an outtake album. I’m thankful for what works and one can argue that parsing this down to a dozen songs may actually make it a serviceable follow-up. For what it is, it’s a fascinating look at scraps, sticking around long enough to get a rise out of the listener. Maybe if judged separately, the songs may be better, where the various threads are clearer. Then again, I think what’s great about this album is how alive everyone sounds, not caring what we all think. It’s nice to have something with as much nose-flinging as this to end such an off year.