It’s been a while since I had time to make one of those. Mondays come relentlessly and live music is still the best remedy to beat that blues. Well here we are again, except I’m on holidays and can finally tell adulting to fuck off and take the time to catch up on Greenday’s perf at Coachella.
I’ve been following the Brat Punk war on socials for the past couple of weeks and it made me smile because some things never change. Nothing new to see here, the same shit was happening in high school yards 30 years ago – and Greenday definitely still knows how to handle the hate with a lot of humor.
Speaking of things that never change, take these guys. Energy unmatched for decades, that iconic BJ guitar still shredding, the fluff is fluffing brighter than it had in years and of course, that big loud mouth of theirs that never was and never will be shy to speak up about what actually matters.
There’s a certain amount of fun to be found in the outrage of some people who still think punk ain’t (or shouldn’t be) political when it’s at the very core of its foundation. Open a history book once in a while people, or even better, spin a few records. Take The Clash, The Dead Kennedys, the motherfreaking Sex Pistols?! Oh right, those are old and dusty. Who cares? Then dive back in the 90s that you love so much and its alt revolution – I’m sure some Anti Flag, Rancid or NOFX might refresh your memory, or even a tad later, wait for it …. GREENDAY.
There’s nothing new to Greenday twisting their lyrics to highlight a reality many are way too keen to embrace without saying a word, that being the MAGA agenda, or the kids in Palestine. You really thought American Idiot was about your next door neighbour? Well. Maybe it was then. Maybe it wasn’t. But if you’re still stuck in that delusion, then Billie really was right about his choice of words.
The song, hell the album, of a generation and it’s crazy how fitting it still sounds 20 years later. Crazy or terrifying to be fair, but that’s also the sign it tapped into feelings we can’t shake off that easily and on the bright side, translate our will to stand up against what’s fucked up in this world.
Like stupid mondays, evil will come relentlessly, but we’ll always be fighting back with the help of a few power chords, loud drums and empowering bass lines. And in the world we live in at this hour, I’d rather have a 3 apple tall faggot (america) lead the way than any other three piece suit member of this idiocracy nightmare.
Punk rock isn’t dead bitches. The roar of the Coachella crowd proves it once more, as does the absolute pride in my heart. That’s a fire that you’ll never manage to put out, thank fuck.
Keep on rocking babes, we’re right there with you always.
