Green Day @ Manchester Apollo, Monday 26th January 1998

"I bet y�all wanna take me home to your mom, don�t you?" asks singer Billy Joe as he stands at the lip of the stage triumphantly adorned in the audiences unwanted T-shirts, looking like the kid who insisted he dressed himself for his first day at school. Well no, that wasn�t exactly what I was thinking Bill, but I suppose in your own oddball greasy punk loser kind of way you are sort of cute.�

The kids at the front aren�t so undecided. You see, the kids love Green Day and likewise, Green Day love the kids. This undeniable bond ensures that playing live is still less a formality and more like mid-morning play-time for the band.�

They run around the stage like it�s the first time they�ve been allowed out on their own, they throw scissor kicks like they�re going out of fashion (which incidentally they probably did towards the end of the 70s, but they don�t care), they get the kids up on stage to play guitar for them and they basically have one big laugh. It�s just like one great noisy pantomime complete with audience participation, sing alongs and the general tomfoolery on stage. It�s a bit like the Chuckle Brothers doing Dick Wittington to the soundtrack of the Sex Pistols.�

Green Day�s sound, which is something like what I�d imagine a guitar being thrown at a trampoline in a room with rubber wallpaper to sound like, may not have progressed especially over the years, but it�s the subtle differences that make every song sound like a jump �n� sing-along classic. For every song that goes "AAAARRRRGGH" and then "KERPLUNK" you can bet the next one throws in an "OI OI OI!" to keep things moving along. Predictable, maybe. Boring, no chance.�

Of course, they�ve gone and thrown a spanner in the works with the latest single, �Time Of Your Life�, by going all Bruce Springsteen on us for 3 minutes or so. Tonight, this is saved as the finale. Until after the drum kit�s been mashed to a pulp, until the bass guitar�s been snapped in half and their amps have received the time honoured punk disregard for anything left standing. As the acres of feedback wash away to meet a due silence, Billy Joe strolls to the remaining microphone and strums out what, thanks to the juxtaposition, sounds like one of the most beautiful songs ever written.�

Needless to say, the audience go wild. You see, the kids love Green Day and now I'm begining to understand why.

James Berry

(Pictures by Andrew Stubbs. Taken at Manchester Apollo, 26.1.98.)��

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