Green Day
Lancashire County Cricket Ground
16/06/2010

Ok, so we all know that Green Day have long since crossed over from goofy pop-punks to global rock megastars. We also know that stadium punk is a weird concept – in fact The Clash proved as much thirty years ago. Even their live show has barely changed in a decade, give or take a couple of albums. So what exactly is left to say about Billie-Joe Armstrong and co? The answer, of course, is “very little”. Presumably this is how they’ve managed to stamp themselves so firmly onto the public consciousness – they’ve already been defined, and as such their audience knows exactly what they’re going to get.

Granted, the speedy 3-chord romps of their early years still stand out as their best work, all Clash poses and Buzzcocks melodies. Armstrong is still under-appreciated as a lyricist (Set highlight ‘She’’s eloquent portrayal of a confused, disaffected youth is as prescient as any of pop’s foremost social commentators), and his ear for a tune operated at its peak during the mid-90s. It’s a long time, however, since the band was hoisted from the SoCal scene amidst the post-grunge search for the ‘new Nirvana’. The fanbase from that period is significantly in the minority at this show, and most of this prime material meets with a politely-muted reaction – it’s the new stuff that these crowds have gathered for.

Biggest cheers are inevitably reserved for newer heavy-hitters like ‘American Idiot’ and ‘Know Your Enemy’, which are catchy enough but somewhat lacking in panache. It’s all played without a hitch, of course. Green Day are a slick rock machine these days, rehearsed to the point of immaculacy and containing few musical surprises. They’re comfortable enough in their own skin to stick to the formula that’s got them this far, and that’s exactly what the assembled masses want.

“I hope you had the time of your life,” coos Armstrong to close the show. Well, it had its moments.

Will Fitzpatrick