Bleed American: Green Day's "American Idiot"

March 6, 2022

In January of 2021, I went on a date. It was not memorable. I remember that night for another reason. I parked on the street, got out of my car, and was immediately accosted by music blasting out of a car driving by. My annoyance transformed into delight as I realized that the driver was blasting “Holiday” by Green Day, off their seminal album “American Idiot.” A few minutes later, the car came back around, blaring “St. Jimmy” off the same album. The driver was playing the whole thing through.

“American Idiot” means a lot to a particular crowd of people. It is one of the few albums that could challenge LINKIN PARK’s “Hybrid Theory” or “Meteora” or My Chemical Romance’s “The Black Parade” for the title of “Most Iconic Scene Album of the Early 2000s.” While I got into scene music later than most (I was homeschooled from kindergarten through high school), when I finally found my way to “The Black Parade,” “American Idiot,” and Fall Out Boy’s “From Under the Cork Tree,” I felt like I’d found a home I didn’t know existed.

I tend to wax poetic about albums I love; hence my self-imposed one-page limit. “Kill your darlings,” and all that. “American Idiot” is one of the few albums that threaten to make me say “oh, just this once!”

A few quick notes before I wrap up: First, Billie Joe Armstrong wrote “Jesus of Suburbia” as a punk Bohemian Rhapsody, and it comes close to the quality and ubiquity of Queen’s masterpiece. Second note: The only time I ever sat behind a drum set, I played “Are We the Waiting.” Note the third: “Give Me Novacaine” was the first song I connected on an emotional level with. Is that bad? Probably. Finally: The soundtrack to my final drive to college before graduation was “Homecoming,” and it felt appropriate. I was driving to my best friends for our last semester together, and after graduation I’d come home to my family. A half-dozen more anecdotes are clamoring to get out, but I’m already at my word limit.

I’m certain I would have had a better night had I hung out with the driver of that car. I can’t remember my date’s name, but I remember the songs I heard from that car. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to commit some minor noise violations of my own.

Highlights:

• “Jesus of Suburbia:” It’s not Bohemian Rhapsody, but it comes close.

• “Boulevard of Broken Dreams:” To date, one of the only two songs I’ve ever done at karaoke. Thanks to Billie for being a baritone.

• “Whatsername:” I remember the face, but I can’t recall the name.