It's a bit tempting to peg
Green Day's sprawling, ambitious, brilliant seventh album,
American Idiot, as their version of a
Who album, the next logical step forward from the
Kinks-inspired popcraft of their underrated 2000 effort,
Warning, but things aren't quite that simple.
American Idiot is an unapologetic, unabashed rock opera, a form that
Pete Townshend pioneered with
Tommy, but
Green Day doesn't use that for a blueprint as much as they use
the Who's
mini-opera "A Quick One, While He's Away," whose whirlwind succession
of 90-second songs isn't only emulated on two song suites here, but
provides the template for the larger 13-song cycle. But
the Who
are only one of many inspirations on this audacious, immensely
entertaining album. The story of St. Jimmy has an arc similar to
HĂĽsker DĂĽ's landmark punk-opera
Zen Arcade, while the music has grandiose flourishes straight out of both
Queen and
Rocky Horror Picture Show (the '50s pastiche "Rock and Roll Girlfriend" is punk rock
Meat Loaf), all tied together with a nervy urgency and a political passion reminiscent of
the Clash, or all the anti-Reagan American hardcore bands of the '80s. These are just the clearest touchstones for
American Idiot,
but reducing the album to its influences gives the inaccurate
impression that this is no more than a patchwork quilt of familiar
sounds, when it's an idiosyncratic, visionary work in its own right.
First of all, part of
Green Day's
appeal is how they have personalized the sounds of the past, making
time-honored guitar rock traditions seem fresh, even vital. With their
first albums, they styled themselves after first-generation punk they
were too young to hear firsthand, and as their career progressed, the
group not only synthesized these influences into something distinctive,
but chief songwriter
Billie Joe Armstrong turned into a muscular, versatile songwriter in his own right.
Warning
illustrated their growing musical acumen quite impressively, but here,
the music isn't only tougher, it's fluid and, better still, it fuels the
anger, disillusionment, heartbreak, frustration, and scathing wit at
the core of
American Idiot. And one of the truly startling things about
American Idiot is how the increased musicality of the band is matched by
Armstrong's
incisive, cutting lyrics, which effectively convey the paranoia and
fear of living in American in days after 9/11, but also veer into
moving, intimate small-scale character sketches. There's a lot to absorb
here, and cynics might dismiss it after one listen as a bit of a mess
when it's really a rich, multi-faceted work, one that is bracing upon
the first spin and grows in stature and becomes more addictive with each
repeated play. Like all great concept albums,
American Idiot
works on several different levels. It can be taken as a collection of
great songs -- songs that are as visceral or as poignant as
Green Day
at their best, songs that resonate outside of the larger canvas of the
story, as the fiery anti-Dubya title anthem proves -- but these songs
have a different, more lasting impact when taken as a whole. While its
breakneck, freewheeling musicality has many inspirations, there really
aren't many records like
American Idiot (bizarrely enough,
the Fiery Furnaces'
Blueberry Boat
is one of the closest, at least on a sonic level, largely because both
groups draw deeply from the kaleidoscopic "A Quick One"). In its musical
muscle and sweeping, politically charged narrative, it's something of a
masterpiece, and one of the few -- if not the only -- records of 2004
to convey what it feels like to live in the strange, bewildering America
of the early 2000s.
tags: green day, american idiot, 2004, flac,