When I was in high school, I read an interview with Green Day’s Billie Joe Armstrong where he stated, “Everybody loves the angry young man, but nobody loves the bitter old bastard.” It’s a sentiment meant to suggest that there is a need to stay in tune with your values. Don’t simply hate something but understand what is worth criticizing. Given that this was during their Who-esque era of concept albums like “American Idiot” and “21st Century Breakdown,” it was obvious that he envisioned them going bigger and grander. They would make the world care about every social issue they ever sang about. This was the next era of a band that evolved from playing clubs and getting a song about masturbation on MTV.
Like most people, I was a Green Day fan through the 2000s. There’s no denying that they were making some era-defining music that remains nostalgic to this day. However, there was something about approaching the 2010s that found me turning on them. While I still openly defend the “Uno!,” “Dos!,” and “Tre!” albums, there was an attitude shift that made me think they weren’t caring. In general, it’s a tumultuous period between me and popular rock music. I was not “into it” like I had been. Part of it was entering college and looking for new voices. It was also that most of the pop-punk heavyweights were reaching a difficult reality. How do you move on from your most ambitious records?
I still think that Green Day suffered to figure that out. Their upcoming tour is sold as a tribute to their biggest albums celebrating their 10th (“American Idiot”) and 20th (“Dookie”) anniversaries. Does anybody care about their new stuff? Given how routinely rejected “Father of All Motherfuckers” was, I’d argue we were in the sunset. This wasn’t the Green Day who actively rebelled. As a notorious incident at the iHeart Music Festival in 2012 that led to Armstrong being thrown into rehab, the only thing I believed was that they were officially what they hated. They were bitter old bastards who were more keen to sample other artists and crib their best work than reinvent the wheel.
On the one hand, the 2020s are the second coming of pop-punk and I can’t be happier about it. Even then, it comes with some devastating realities. Except for the phenomenal new album by The Hives, most bands were suffering to find their footing. Blink-182’s “One More Time” failed to capture the creative spark that once made their future so promising. Paramore, Panic at the Disco, and Fall Out Boy would release good songs, but to me, they were spinning wheels half the time. Chances of Green Day, who had the most notorious drop-off, returning with another masterpiece was even more of a stretch. It made me think that maybe it was for the best that I had moved on.
I hadn’t listened to a new Green Day album in 12 years. While I revisited everything before 2012 with regularity, there was the sense that a band that once was inescapable was downright irrelevant. I kept thinking of Armstrong crying about how a corporate festival cut their set short and that Justin Bieber was nothing special compared to them.
This was before I began to talk with random fans on Twitter. While I had heard “The American Dream Is Killing Me” on the radio and liked it, my expectations were in the gutter. It wasn’t until someone introduced me to “Dilemma” that something clicked. Whereas the other single could be arguably a retread of themes they explored 20 years ago, “Dilemma” was something both nostalgic and fresh. It was there in the power guitars in the chorus. It was Armstrong being vulnerable, yelling “I was sober now I’m drunk again” with the same intensity as he did on “Nimrod.” There was a sincerity and clarity to the songwriting that I hadn’t noticed in them for almost 15 years. Was it possible that things were turning back around?
After all, something is enduring about Armstrong reminding himself of what it means to be the “angry young man.” That side of him was always fun, constantly filling lines with humor that still stings. Sure, your mileage of “young” may differ, but Armstrong hasn’t been this vivacious in a long time. “Dilemma” may not be a funny song, but he fills every line with a personality that makes it more than cut-and-paste. It’s a reflection of his past mistakes and a hopeful push forward. It’s the type of material that he should be focusing on, and he’s bringing the aging pop-punk mentality some much needed resuscitation on “Saviors.”
It's by no means their best record, though it may be the most enthusiastic I have felt for Green Day since 2012. I basically came out of the record eager to revisit everything under the sun. Part of it is just that a lot of the hooks and riffs feel reminiscent of their back catalog. It’s an undeniable part of being a legacy act. However, I think what they’re doing within it is some of the freshest work they could be doing as they approach a new era. While others like Blink-182 feel trapped in arrested development, Green Day has figured out the key to moving forward… and part of it is just giving audiences what they want.
What you’ll get when pressing play on “Saviors” are 15 songs that play things fast and loose. They’re anthemic in the ways you’d expect them to be. Even listening to the record, I predict the way that Armstrong will turn the microphone to the audience and have them sing a few bars. There’s so much purpose and connection to every song, and it makes me thrilled to be a fan. Even if I think the core essence of pop-punk’s mentality mutated into hyperpop, having a band that still plays the classic riffs as if they’re still fighting for stage time in The Bay is thrilling. It may be more self-conscious than their early work, but I think the weariness of their subject matter makes this a record that’s worth a listen.
As mentioned, I think that kicking things off with “The American Dream Is Killing Me” was a smart call. It’s the most Top 40-ready rock song I’ve heard in a minute. Even if I’d argue it’s not saying anything new, the bridge is still infectious and delivers a reality that is omnipresent in current discourse. Even if the disenfranchisement is something they were talking about in 2004, they still care enough to get up and rally the troops. It’s more than an empty gesture and sets up a record that will be a mix of playing the hits and providing a few glimpses into something new and personal.
It’s when things move towards the latter that it becomes an enticing record. There have been criticisms that Green Day isn’t any better at maturing than Blink-182. It’s evident on “Look Ma, No Brains!” which suggests that he’s grown older but not smarter. With that said, I guess I’m too in the pocket for the style to fully discredit what he’s doing. It’s winking and acidic in the best ways possible, serving as a reminder of what it feels like to be lost in the world. If taken as a core message, it’s keeping with anything else they wrote. For as much as this record has no definitive “this is a ‘Saviors’ track” when placed alongside everything else, it’s still a band doing what they do best, and I sort of love them for that. These are songs that I can’t help but imagine putting on a playlist and having a good time.
I’m mostly thankful to see the clever side of Armstrong emerging again. The next song “Bobby Sox” is arguably supposed to be their controversial number. Throughout the chorus, he shrieks “Do you want to be my girlfriend?” or boyfriend, or best friend. The interchangeable nature feels designed to provoke even within the calmer balladry he’s constructed. It’s not hard to imagine they’re targeting conservative pundits to be offended by the thought of a bisexual lover. Then again, these people got offended by a beer can. They’re not serious people. It’s nowhere near the punch of “American Idiot” going after political officials, but then again I wonder if it’s simpler than that. Is it just a song about a man wanting somebody to love and we’re throwing on controversy? It’s hard to say.
The album isn’t above swinging into nostalgia and finding the band accepting old age. “1981” details the early years of MTV with that fondness for music videos and dancing to catchy songs. “Living in the ‘20s” is an all-encompassing number about how crazy the modern political landscape has become. I personally think that it sounds like they’re trying to suggest the 2020s is more an age than a decade, but even then, the immaturity of which they sing has some playful jabs… even if they’re not exactly saying anything new. Then again, it only serves to remind fans that this world is way too cyclical and dumb things will continue to happen. If read too literally, it’s the suggestion that the ambitious goals of Green Day failed and they’re just the same candidate on the stump blaming the lack of change that they felt to put to make happen. It’s redundant, sure, but again… the hooks. Green Day’s got hooks and towering harmonies for days. These are going to kill in stadium shows.
If there’s one side that helps to balance out the chaos, it’s the personal numbers. “Goodnight Adeline” details Armstrong’s relationship with his wife. Even as it finds the band straying from the more conventional pop-punk influences seen elsewhere, the way that he builds a chorus is still sweet. There’s also “Father to a Son,” where he self-reflects on his years of being a father despite having his own be absent. Together, these songs paint a personal picture of an artist letting go of theatrics and being grateful for the things that make life worth living.
When collected together, “Saviors” works because it is a nostalgic record. It may harken back to better work, but I’d argue it’s not as lazy as it could’ve been. On the one hand, it’s the overarching theme of concern for growing up in a post-pandemic world. It’s growing old and accepting sobriety, of coming to terms with raising a family in a time where everything seems chaotic. Much like the album cover, there’s something to trying to stay happy when everything is burning. Sometimes it takes maturity, but it can also take looking back on what made us happy and realizing that, collectively, it makes us thankful to be alive. Armstrong may have sung about being an idiot, but he’s smart enough to know how to survive.
To me, that is why “Saviors” resonates and stands to be the Green Day album that reinstates me as a fan. Whereas I left the band in 2012 when it looked like they gave up on being “angry young men,” I return to realize that they’ve finally learned to age with grace. As someone who’s had my own bumps in the road, I can’t fully fault them for their past mistakes. With that said, I always admire someone who overcomes those struggles and finds the good in themselves. It’s still too early to know how far up the ladder this album will be of favorites, but it’s the most grateful I have been with a pop-punk record in a long time. In a time where it feels like the old guard hasn’t figured out the best way to age gracefully, Green Day has cracked the code. I can only hope this is the start of an exciting era full of even bigger surprises.
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