This past Wednesday, The United States had a terrorist attack where a group of violent, irrational psychopaths stormed the capitol and broke into the senate. There were plans to burn votes, set off pipe bombs, and put the lives of political figures at risk. It’s going to be one of the most notorious and harrowing days in this country’s history, and it’s likely to (unfortunately) inspire a ton of art made about it, asking what this says about the American discourse in the modern age. For me, I am still too close to the rubble, where plans to have the terrorists’ leader evicted from office have yet to form any greater accomplishment. There are talks, but so far the only fruitful thing that’s happened is a discussion of just how whack racial divisions still are.
As the internet takes to adding every possible comment on the matter, it only reminds me of something that seems a bit awkward. For bands that have any form of activity since 2015, there have been few truly great pieces of rock music to pull from. “Fat Mike” Burkett never set up an Anti-Republican compilation like he did for George W. Bush. More importantly, bands who were alive during that decade railing against The War on Terrorism have largely been quiet. System of a Down, for instance, is only reuniting AFTER the time when their music could’ve been the most serviceable.
Then there’s Green Day, who have always been there but don’t seem to care enough. To look at their 21st-century albums starting with “Warning,” there’s been a general awareness of music’s power to provoke emotion. For most of the 2000s, they were the poster children for politically conscious rock, turning pop-punk into high concept records that played well on stadium tours. Now that things are inarguably worse than they ever were under Bush, what are they doing to raise conversation? Sadly, it’s records like “Father of All Motherfuckers,” which notoriously complains about the authenticity of rock than about anything going on in the real world.
To be fair, Green Day have been around long enough that they can do anything they want. It’s arguable that The Network’s new album covered the ground that they should’ve. Still, when singer/guitarist Billie Joe Armstrong complains about politics now, it feels more like an afterthought. Again, it’s fine that he wants to release goofy covers with his family in quarantine. It’s just that, like every other angry young band from 15 years ago, they feel burned out on making a bigger message that sticks, that makes anyone care to make a difference in the world.
I’d argue that the turning point for this was one of their strangest turns. For as critically acclaimed and successful as “21st Century Breakdown” was, it’s a record that maybe reflects the burnout of their new career direction. It may be why this was immediately followed by a trio of records that reflect the band at their most esoteric and creative, essentially serving as their “Sandinista!” of B-Sides. They were trying to start over after this because they had exhausted their grandiose vision, their need to be so high-concept that it started a Broadway musical. Unlike its predecessor “American Idiot,” “21st Century Breakdown” laid out its narrative layout, breaking everything up into three parts: Heroes and Cons, Charlatans and Saints, Horseshoes and Handgrenades. It was clear that this was a Capital-I Important record and the long-awaited follow-up to a cultural phenomenon.
If “American Idiot” was reflective of The First Bush Administration, then “21st Century Breakdown” was the culmination, reflecting Armstrong’s own concern for what those eight years wrought on American discourse. He sings about how his son will be graduating high school in 2013 (then four years away) and wondering if the world will be a better place. From here the album rattles off the familiar themes of political disenfranchisement. The lead single “Know Your Enemy” has that familiar anti-establishment energy and a guitar riff that’s clearly designed to be like the lead single from their 2004 magnum opus. For the most part, this is business as usual, if done with less of a pop-punk flair with songs like “21 Guns” leaning more into sentimental balladry, just with heavier guitars.
In some respects, it was a departure from their last album sonically. However, one has to ask what was ultimately achieved with this shift. Parts of the record sound calculated like they’re trying to go more for the stadium rock, believing that their message was very important. It’s true that Armstrong was singing about things that were shaping society, following protagonists Christian and Gloria through their exploration of the times. It’s got clever instrumentation, such as using a Geiger counter and incorporating the idea of war into the score. There’s plenty to like with how Green Day expand upon their sound even if deep down it was clear why things fell apart immediately after.
The concern is overbearing, often overshadowing any story. In fact, there’s nothing as fun here as on “American Idiot” where characters like St. Jimmy and Jesus of Suburbia (names alone pop with more life) formed a life outside of the songs. They were comical ditties that found playful antagonism even as it commented on the awfulness of politics. To look at “21st Century Breakdown” is to see something more devoid of humor, where songs like “Last of the American Girls” have too much sincerity to produce the smallest of smirks. They’re good, but it’s clear that they’re more obsessed now with great-sounding message songs than these malleable things that make every record prior had in some capacity.
That’s the thing that’s often ignored. Green Day as a band has gotten where they are writing songs that wink at the audience. Their breakthrough single “Longview” was about masturbation. Their concerts featured a lengthy sequence featuring “King for a Day” about cross-dressing. They were the fun band, where Armstrong could break from a melody to crack a joke. Hearing the audience cheer along reflected just how charismatic they were. Sure they had serious songs, but it was balanced out by this sarcastic optimism.
On the one hand, “21st Century Breakdown” is reflective of where the country was in 2009 when Barrack Obama was barely starting his presidency. There was a housing collapse and the idea of a sustainable economy amid a (so far) never-ending war was likely to exhaust anyone. Armstrong’s desire to be more outspoken definitely didn’t help matters. Given that he was only a few years off from entering rehab for alcoholism, there is the sense that for as brilliant as this album can be perceived, it was also the reflection of a group, touching the highest of superstardom, reaching peak burnout.
Sure, nobody can say that the record was rushed. It’s clear that every song was meticulously crafted and there is enough personality here to make it a dark horse favorite for some people. It’s just that in comparison to everything on either side, it’s a bit of an outlier. Despite the great reviews and few memorable singles, nobody really talks about it, if just because of how calculated of a release it felt. It was clear that they were considering moving full-time into concept albums and trying to expand their tone significantly. Does it work? Yes. It does so long as you’re more wrapped up in craft than an accessible record (this clocks in at 69 minutes).
Everything before was a lot more fun with enough casualness to appease fans. “American Idiot” goes so far as to make TWO nine-minute songs into some of the most enjoyable compositions in their career.
To go the other direction is to see where records like “Father of All Motherfuckers” comes from. It’s clear that Armstrong and crew were experiencing severe burnout and lacked the passion for these high-concept records. They wanted to prove that they still had that vitality that their earlier music had and, depending on tastes, it at least achieves the idea of it. I personally believe that their three B-Sides albums actually contains one very good record among the muddle. Even then, it’s funny to think that they wanted to be considered edgy despite writing a ballad for Twilight: Breaking Dawn – Part 2 (2012).
This isn’t to say that they stopped writing political songs, but it felt like they stopped caring about their public image as strongly. To be fair, I haven’t listened to anything after “Tre!,” but that’s also because I don’t feel their passion has really been there. The reviews don’t give me any hope.
Maybe it’s for the best that Green Day stopped making overtly political music. If “21st Century Breakdown” was any clue, it was likely that they were on the verge of entering their least personable period yet. They still had some wit, but there’s too much of a search for humanity from their 2009 record. They want to believe that they’re using their platform to better the world. It did sell four million copies and won a Grammy for Best Rock Album. It did reach audiences. There’s no denying that the band still was relevant.
I keep going back and forth on whether it is a disappointment that Green Day never released their big commentary on the state of modern politics. After all, they had released songs like “99 Revolutions” that commented on Occupy Wall Street. What were they doing to keep their audience alive and fighting for just causes? At the same time, Armstrong was a recovering alcoholic with a family of his own, and the need to be concerned doesn’t always correlate to the desire to be angry. As he once claimed, everyone loves the angry young man but nobody likes the bitter old fuck.
Even then, his shift from caring about the world to about the state of music is a bit of a sad decline. It’s true that mainstream rock lacks the punch it did even around 2009. There is that frustration that pop is overpowering the radio. However, the one thing that Armstrong seems to have forgotten on this journey is that the way to evoke change isn’t to complain about it, but be what you want it to be. Imagine if “Father of All Motherfuckers” was good. Maybe it would get played on the radio more often, inspire people to pay attention to them. Instead, it’s been argued as their lowest point.
Then again, what can anyone do at this point in a very divided America? Everything is left in disarray and the fact that the judicial system arguably doesn’t work as well as it should in regulating corruption, it’s hard to have that enthusiasm still alive. The more common theme of this administration hasn’t been political unrest, but exhaustion. On a daily basis, the world woke up to find their day already met with chaos. Thankfully there are those who fought back, but most of us are stuck in a perpetual state of depression and disappointment made worse by a global pandemic. Maybe Green Day making a record where it’s clear that nobody gave a shit was the only thing they could do that summed up the past five years accurately. We’re still angry, but it’s also way too tiresome to be outspoken in the modern age.
On the bright side, someone took the leader of that terrorist attack’s Twitter account away from him, so some good has come from all of this.
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