The impressive timelessness of Green Day's appeal was reflected in the audience, which spanned three generations: Gen Xers who grew up with “Dookie,” Millennials embracing their “American Idiot” phase, and Gen Zers who found the band's populist and often sadly prescient lyrics appealing.
And the four-act lineup also spanned generations, from up-and-coming teen punk band The Linda Lindas to fellow alt-rockers Rancid and Smashing Pumpkins. (Billy Corgan's band, dressed in a black Nehru-style outfit that seemed more suited to a winter concert than an August night in Atlanta with temperatures above 90 degrees, treated the crowd to a wild, industrial-heavy journey through their big hits, a few obscure songs and an out-of-nowhere cover of U2's “Zoo Station.”)
Photo credit: Robb Cohen for the Atlanta Journal
Photo credit: Robb Cohen for the Atlanta Journal
There was no sloppiness in Green Day, no punk-like tantrums, no curse-laden monologues about societal ills. Time and middle age have smoothed the rebellious streak, but none of the enthusiasm for performing. From the second they took the stage at 8:30 p.m. with their new song, “The American Dream is Killing Me,” to their last song at 10:50 p.m., the huge 1997 breakup hit that everyone thinks is called “Time of Your Life” but is aptly called “Good Riddance (Time of Your Life),” there was little loss of momentum.
For Green Day, this is their fourth Atlanta appearance in seven years and their second in Truist Park in three. And for several years now, they've opened each concert with the same pre-recorded introduction: Queen's “Bohemian Rhapsody” in full and the Ramones' “Blitzkrieg Bop” with a guy named Punk Bunny in a bunny costume running around the stage and pumping up the crowd.
Photo credit: Robb Cohen for the Atlanta Journal
Photo credit: Robb Cohen for the Atlanta Journal
Green Day is in many ways inspired and influenced by both Queen and the Ramones. Armstrong embodies Freddie Mercury's magnetic stage presence and theatricality, mimicking Mercury's emphatic “Ay yo!” cries several times throughout the evening. And Green Day's simple, catchy chords and high-speed punk attitude reflect the best of the Ramones at their peak.
And since it's a stadium show, the band provided the upper tier crowd with giant screens with a top-notch video crew that provided quick-cut close-ups of all three main band members, choreographed with the precision of a Broadway musical. The band also raided the concert equipment store (if there is such a thing) for streamers, fireworks, and a silly “Bad Year” blimp.
For the most part, the band let the music speak for itself over the course of the evening. There was no background information on the songs, neither the old nor the new, nor any personal stories from their eventful past. (That's why you read Rolling Stone.)
The band changed “I'm not part of a redneck agenda” to “I'm not part of the MAGA agenda” in “American Idiot.” That's nothing new. They did it eight months ago on “Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin' Eve with Ryan Seacrest.” And on “Holiday,” Armstrong screamed, “Tear down Mar-a-Lago!”
But Armstrong's requests were mostly casual, like “Let me hear your screams!” and “Put your hands up!”
He also hilariously invoked the old concert classic: Call out the city and/or state you're in. He did. And he did it a lot. Georgia and Atlanta were mentioned at least a dozen times. And since Green Day is skipping cities like Birmingham, Alabama and the three biggest markets in Florida – Tampa, Orlando and Miami – this time around, he also gave plenty of love to the band's fans from Alabama and Florida who arrived by car or plane.
Armstrong's only speech on stage focused on joy, recalling the beginning of Prince's “Let's Go Crazy.”
“We are gathered here to witness this thing called love and happiness,” he said. “Don't scroll to doom. Right now, we are all together. Tonight, we are with our family and friends. Tonight, we are united. Tonight is not a political party. … Tonight is a celebration!”
Another happy highlight: He brought a random woman named Eternity onstage to help him sing part of “Know Your Enemy.” She seemed both speechless and completely absorbed in the moment as she belted out the lyrics with gusto and jumped around like she owned the place.
Was she a decoy? Maybe. But Armstrong seemed genuinely surprised by her enthusiasm, giving her a dream chance to jump from an elevated part of the stage just as Cool hit the final drum beat like a female Pete Townsend.
Photo credit: Robb Cohen for the Atlanta Journal
Photo credit: Robb Cohen for the Atlanta Journal
