They are neither dead nor resurrected. Just persevering. 14 albums deep, still angry, still pop, still political -- and still wearing eyeliner and leather jackets, as if the world hasn't moved on. Maybe because it hasn't.
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Five stars
Disclaimer: Apropos Magazine received access or a review copy. As always, we share our own impressions — unfiltered.
Six stars
It's easy to call Green Day a nostalgia act. For many, their heyday was Dookie in 1994. For others it was American Idiot in 2004, when punk rock turned into pop rock turned into rock opera. A record about Jesus of Suburbia, the Iraq War and a new American apathy. And then came the trilogy ¡Uno! ¡Dos! ¡Tre! in 2012 and reminded us that genre confusion can easily be deliberate.
But after that? Green Day has for years released albums at four-year intervals -- without actually disappearing, but also not quite defining the time. Billie Joe Armstrong, however, has never been the type to shut up. He still writes about war, Elon Musk and MAGA. And their greatest hits are still called “God's Favorite Band”. It's either arrogant or funny. Probably both.
Let's just put it like this...
The Tinderbox concert was everything that was hoped and feared. One band with back catalog enough for three sets. An energy that infected from the first note. A giant Star Wars—Queen—Ramones-potpourri as the intro that, without warning, slipped straight over into American Idiot, while a sea of people tried to wade closer to the scene.
And yes — it sounded great. Just as big and tight as the plate, but with extra confetti, pyrotechnics and a gigantic clenched fist from American Idiotcover in the middle of the stage. It wasn't just a concert -- it was staged indignation, wrapped in hooks and fire.
The Holiday followed and was perhaps the evening's scariest moment: a song about apathy and war that suddenly felt like 2004 again -- and like 2025. The audience knew every word, and it resounded strangely topical when Billie Joe sang: “the representative from Denmark now has the floor”. A small, flabbergasted paraphrase that the audience greeted with laughter and screams, while for a brief second it was felt that Funen was the center of the world — and Denmark part of the band's rebellion.
Scenographically, it was a hybrid between punk and stadium rock. The light rig flashed to the beat of the drums, and the three giant LED towers on either side showed raw clips of the audience, closeups of the band and little glitchy animation snippets that reminded one that Green Day is still playing with the format. And in the middle of it all stood Billie Joe -- red shirt, bleached hair and an energy like a 25 year old angry poet in the 00s.
The set list spanned impressively wide. From Boulevard of Broken Dreams and Wake Me Up When September Ends For older tracks like Longview, When I Come Around and Basket Case. It never seemed like an exercise in duty. Quite the opposite. Green Day played with a genuine love for the material -- and with a feel for what the audience needed.
And who were Really at the concert? It was hard to tell. 90s-kids in Basket Casesweaters, post-emos with septum piercings, and families with kids who just took care of the kids and wanted to cross Green Day off the list before going to DIZZY. It didn't seem like a nostalgia trip to most -- closer to a collective need for something that makes noise and means something.
That's probably the most important thing. That Green Day still has something to say. That the music is not just a TikTok sound or a festival souvenir. Billie Joe Armstrong is still an amazing frontman. Not charismatic in the slick way, but punky and irresistible. He still looks like someone who could come up with throwing a beer at your head, but who would also say sorry afterwards. His voice holds. His energy holds. And most importantly, you believe in him.
Reflection:
Green Day on Tinderbox wasn't just a punchy time travel. It was a reminder that some anger is worth preserving. Especially when the world is getting dumber and the algorithms are making us softer. Their songs sounded as they always have -- and perhaps mattered more than ever.
It wasn't the concert that changed the world. But it reminded us why we once thought music could. And if that's not enough for five stars -- what is?
