Osheaga Day 2 : Every Dog Has Its (Green) Day

by Lyle Hendriks

First and foremost, let me declare my respect and fealty for Green Day. As one of the all-time greatest bands to walk the Earth, there’s no denying the influence and importance of their early catalogue—a fact that they seem keenly aware of, considering their tour for their new album, Saviors (Reprise Records, 2024) is actually just them playing Dookie (Reprise Records, 1994) and American Idiot (Reprise Records, 2004) in their entirety.

Green Day’s new music is not good. It’s a washed-out imitation, trying to recapture not only the glory days of the band itself, but also anything even remotely popular from the pop-punk and alt-rock world in the last 20 years. And again, it seems that Green Day is completely aware of this fact, playing only a handful of songs off their new release, and then diving into an hour and a half of songs that we’ve all heard a million times.

Is it cool to see “Holiday” and “Basket Case” live? Sure, kind of. They sound exactly like they do on the recordings. Billie Joe Armstrong’s stage banter is well-rehearsed and devoid of surprise (except for when he forgets where he is in the song and asks what verse he’s on). Mike Dirnt keeps it locked down, playing root notes on bass like someone who makes a million dollars per year playing root notes on bass. Drummer Tré Cool, for all of his skill, resembles a Weekend at Bernies-esque meat puppet being controlled by a grip backstage. 

So what’s my problem? Green Day has atrophied around these ancient songs like a brittle old muscle, becoming aging, Botox-bloated men in denial who refuse to let any new life into their performance, only bothering to release a new album in order to have an excuse to play their old ones. For a band who made their mark as rebels, outlaws, and societal outcasts, I can’t pick out a single thing that’s now punk about Green Day. Between songs, I thought Armstrong might finally come out and say something that meant something. Perhaps he’d use his bulletproof status and inconceivably massive platform to speak out on the injustice that they claim to be against. 

But what do we get instead? Lame platitudes about ignoring the “propaganda” and “focusing on the music and being together.” Spineless, empty rhetoric like this is insulting, and he would have been better off telling the truth: “I don’t give a fuck about anything except making money off of you suckers.”

After being treated to the incredible Mannequin Pussy (who spent much of their precious set time ferociously attacking the church, rich white men, and the Palestinian genocide) the day prior, I couldn’t have been less impressed with the substance behind Green Day’s performance. With all due respect to the incredible achievements of Green Day over the past 37 years, it’s time for these old men to step aside.

Photos by Tim Snow

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