If Billie Joe Armstrong spends most of tonight in flagrant breach of Punk Rock Code of Behaviour Rule 1 (“no smiling under any circumstances”), then it’s perhaps understandable. Early last year, when word began to get around that the asinine Green Day were planning to release a “punk opera” about 'politics', music journalists across the world hit their thesauruses looking for new ways to say “catastrophe”.
One year later, Green Day haven’t just been vindicated – as far as this crowd are concerned, they’ve been sainted. Not long ago their career seemed effectively over, with an audience growing rapidly out of their puke’n’punk shtick. Then came “American Idiot”, a record which mixed testosterone-fuelled anger with a genuine thoughtfulness. It not only reconnected with that maturing audience but galvanised a whole new one and though it didn’t unseat Bush it did make Green Day count in a way they never had before.
So, tonight is less a gig than a big, riotous party for the startlingly diverse group of people who are Green Day fans. “American Idiot” gets everything off to a bruising start, and it’s difficult to tell who is generating the most energy: the thrashing band or the moshing crowd. It’s a racket in the best, most liberating way.
Once upon a time Green Day wouldn’t have dared let the momentum slip, but now they quite happily follow it with a brace of reflective, longing songs – “When September Comes” and “Boulevard Of Broken Dreams”. They are sung back note perfect by the crowd, who have embraced this album in the way an older generation once embraced “OK Computer”.
“Are We The Waiting” is the most experimental song they’ve written yet, a cacophony of sounds and ideas that recalls early Mansun in its cheek and confidence (a compliment, incidentally). But a ripping run through “Holiday” proves they can still do basic, and do it thrillingly. By comparison “Basket Case” and “Good Riddance”, the two songs which used to be the only point of Green Day, are cranked out casually.
It’s an overlong set, and Billie Joe’s stagecraft can sometimes be a little crass – waterpistol horseplay, giving away a cheap guitar to a fan. But throughout Green Day have the flushed excitement of desperate gamblers who have landed the jackpot with their last dollar. And best of all, they want to share.
