
High-Concept Brat Rock
A story headlined "New Rock Is Passé on Radio" in The New York Times arts section of April 28, 2005, noted that all across America, the big radio conglomerates were moving away from the "modern rock" genre, and abruptly flipping their formats to talk, urban music, or even classic rock.
The story featured rock industry types lamenting this demise, but from a musical standpoint it was long overdue. Ever since the wickedly smart 1994 Green Day album Dookie, released just before Nirvana's Kurt Cobain committed suicide, modern rock (also tagged "alternative" rock or "alt" rock) had been overrun by aggrieved boys. These artists (Creed, Blink 182, and others) seized on the bratty adenoidal whine of Green Day singer Billie Joe Armstrong but missed his accompanying wink, and as a result their self-obsessed musings mattered mainly to other adolescent males in similar alienated states.
With the barbed American Idiot, Green Day takes aim at all the self-indulgence that surrounds modern rock culture as well as the presidency of George W. Bush and the media. Armstrong is still wryly self-aware, but as he follows the character called "St. Jimmy" around a soulless suburban dystopia, there's palpable disgust in his voice. And alarm. He rants about consumer culture and the worship of false idols in severe tones; he talks about the search for "realness" in a way that makes you wonder whether anything is worth believing in. American Idiot catches the applecart-upsetting anarchy that fueled the first iteration of punk and the withering social critiques associated with the Who and the Clash, but it cushions those blows with addictive, diabolically hooky refrains. Green Day's jittery sing-alongs operate on several different levels at once: They're strident warnings about the fragile mental makeup of the disaffected American Everykid, and at the same time they sound like victory dances for those conniving enough to reach the upper echelons of Grand Theft Auto on the PlayStation.