A Look Back at My 10 Years with "American Idiot"

Ladies and gentlemen, today is the day that I realized that I am older...

On September 20, 2014, there was a formative experience that changed the cultural landscape in ways that no rock album since has even inspired. Yes, there continued to be viable rock bands, but for a generation, there is little doubt that Green Day's "American Idiot" was as subtle as Rip Taylor. To know that there is a stage production based off of this album just shows how influential it is. The truth is that I have laugh, cried, and even felt annoyed when listening to this album. It was a formative album that is almost akin to discovering The Who's "Tommy" or Nirvana's "Nevermind." You are likely not to forget that album once you lived through it. I cannot call "American Idiot" my favorite Green Day album ("Nimrod") nor can I claim to have hopped on the bandwagon. There's chances that Green Day have since lost their edge with the mediocre "Uno," "Dos," "Tre" albums and an embarrassing breakdown at a Las Vegas show that lead the singer into rehab. Even then, this album encapsulates something unique for me. It is that album I regard as my high school years.

There's a lot of reasons that "American Idiot" will always be rooted in those awkward high school years. For starters, I wasn't very far into my Freshman year and the prospects of a new Green Day album was only appealing to me and about 10 other people... or so I thought. I remember trying to show up late for school because KROQ was going to play the unheard of nine minute track "Jesus of Suburbia" for the first time. The fact of the matter is that Green Day had hooked themselves into one of the best gimmicks possible. It was a concept album with TWO epic tracks, an overlapping story with characters such as Jesus of Suburbia, Watsername, and St. Jimmy. It wasn't their first foray into political subject matter, but it was their most realized.

The title track became a staple on radio stations. I remember the video playing on Fuse TV back when it was an almost exclusively punk rock channel. The trio would play their music in front of an American flag that was draped in green goo. It was a striking minimalist approach that would slowly become topped with each proceeding video. It actually felt like an event when the video of "Jesus of Suburbia" would air uninterrupted. The band had managed to create a crossing between commercialism and artistic merit. Most of all, it was just a really solid album that spoke to kids. The countless MySpace accounts transitioned into having lead singer Billie Joe Armstrong as their profile pictures and their names became lyrics from the various songs. 

Green Day had seeped into the culture in ways that were refusing to leave. "Wake Me Up When September Ends" became an anthem for those suffering losses from the current War on Terrorism. Even if the record didn't blatantly say the popular mantra of the day "Bush Sucks," it had that energy and hatred that audiences needed. There was a need to uprise. It also helped that the vague narration that didn't exactly make sense when deconstructed also served as the rebellious streak that teenagers needed when dealing with their own growth as individuals. In fact, it's a miracle that the record doesn't just sound like a more polished and more snotty version of "Dookie," which the band had released 10 years prior and remained their most popular record to that point.

Still, as a teenager who had just started high school, there was the need for acceptance and to find myself. As much as I enjoyed having everyone love Green Day, there was also the need to have my own identity. I had long periods of disowning the album. Even then, I had memories of going to their concerts at Staples Center at the end of their tour and noticing just how big things had gotten. The traffic was bad getting there and the spectacle overpowered the actual performance. They were an arena band, but they were still small. Their voice echoed to the back of the room, but I kind of missed when they were that small band that I cherished.

I still remember that first day when the record came out. I left school after an English class and walked a few miles to the nearest Target to buy the record on discount price. From there I went to a Carl's Jr., ordered a taco salad, and sat there. I cannot remember what my first reaction was exactly. To my understanding, it was "Man, they're going to be big." I can still point to the seat where I listened to that album thoroughly for the first time. It was before I came to learn the songs and way before any of the videos were actually shot. It was this kooky concept album that lived up to some potential. The only issue was that it worked for everyone, and that made the experience a little hard to embrace in the moment.

Comparatively, I don't feel like there's been any rock stars on par with "American Idiot" era Green Day. Yes, there was Fall Out Boy and My Chemical Romance, but those bands felt niche and cornered in the market. Likewise, I have listened to their albums a lot and cannot recall when I first popped on those headphones. Green Day meant something because beyond the haze, there were some formative moments in my life set to that record. It was when I began to discover identity and feel a part of something. Sure, I was just some 15-year-old kid with limited resources, but it was still an era before Youtube existed and videos had to be seen on subpar company sites. It was a strange world.

Scene from Bullet in a Bible

I was a mediocre writer too obsessed with emotional offenses. I wouldn't drive a car for another four years. I didn't vote. I didn't work. Maybe that is why I had plenty of time to dissect the album and form a relationship with it through various conversations. While their legacy continued to evolve, I continued to change, mature, and become whatever I am today. I still pull out some old records, but none have the resonating significance. I refuse to buy a new copy of the CD simply because that feels like a piece of ground zero. I will never get to relive a phenomenon that defines my youth again in this capacity. It influenced so many bands and brought on a change in music, even if momentarily, for the better. Even if I couldn't appreciate it, there's a sense that every time I think of that album, I think of who I was at that time. I lived it.

I know that I haven't really talked about the album itself. It's because you already know the music. You already know how you feel about it. In truth, there's a lot better music from that time. However, it's still quite something to see an album consume the radio, TV, and conversations so readily for an extended period of time. I think it helps just that its themes of confusion played into the general vibe of society at the time. Maybe they hit a formula that made it hard to top with their follow-up, which was the even more ambitious "21st Century Breakdown." In general, I think audiences today will likely not get the same resonance as I did because it means something different. The record is definitive of its time, but just like I listen to Nirvana's "Nevermind" and simply have videos of Kurt Cobain for reference, that's all that kids today will have. The only benefit is that on the DVD of their biggest show on the tour, Bullet in a Bible, you can see my friend Alex with his ex-girlfriend in the front row. You won't recognize him, I guarantee.

With all of this said, it is a record that is 10 years old. If there was any affirming piece of proof that I have changed, it is this. "American Idiot" came out during a transitioning period and managed to stick. Beyond the videos and endless radio play, "American Idiot" feels like an aura now. I don't play it a lot, if just for the sake of protecting my memories. I use it more as a tracker. I have come a long way, baby. I am proud of that. Still, to look back and notice everything that was different about is me is amazingly absurd. 

I am old now.