I think this has been made super clear on this blog: Green Day isn’t just my favorite band, they are now somehow part of who I am. This all began one late night nearly 10 years ago with a lyric booklet in hand and punk rock chords meshed with harsh lyrics bursting through my speakers. To this day I’m fairly convinced that I was not the same person by the last notes of “Whatsername” as I was at the energetic opening of “American Idiot.” Love it or hate it, American Idiot, was a pivotal record for the misfit and angst-filled kids of my generation.
“I walk this lonely road…”
Like many other young adults, American Idiot was an album that came out of nowhere at the right place and the right time. In late 2004 I was 13-years-old and in the first half of my 7th grade year. I wasn’t cool, I was barely liked at all. For some reason I was the butt of a lot of jokes that I wasn’t even in on. I dressed weird. I was that crazy girl that sang to herself on the bus. The mere notion of wanting to date me was a joke.
Up until this point in my life I tried my hardest to be what everyone else wanted me to be. I tried to dress like Lizzie McGuire (she was cool, right?). I listened to the radio and knew all the same songs the “cool kids” did. I talked to these people in class and sat with them at lunch. All for nothing. I was met with mocking, rumors and subtle exclusion. Worst of all, in the midst of all this trying to be what I thought I was supposed to be, I had no idea who I was.
Merry Christmas, Idiot!
By Christmas 2004 I was very familiar with the song “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” considering it was played on the radio in the midst of an endless loop of hit songs. Me and one of my good friends at the time were wildly obsessed with the song. I think I even remember thinking that it was my favorite song (I feel the need to note that this was a pretty shallow title for me at the time). When I received a gift certificate for F.Y.E. for Christmas, in the back of my mind I knew exactly what CD I should buy, it was just a matter of if I was ready to take a musical leap of faith. Clearly I was, although, I almost played it safe and bought a Christina Aguilera album; there have been many times where I’ve pondered what my life would have been like had I made the safe choice. I didn’t make the safe choice, though.
I was so excited to listen to this new “edgy” album that I popped it in my little green CD player and pulled out the accompanying booklet. Who knew that when I hit the “play” button, my whole world would change?
That was an uncomfortable night for me. It wasn’t an experience where I pushed play and found myself jamming and loving every song. Instead, I soaked in every lyric and every note trying to examine every part of this foreign experience and understand it to the fullest. I felt slightly dark and dirty, like I was doing something wrong. Despite all that, I didn’t really find myself fearing this raw sense of anger and rebellion, I was fully intrigued by it. I wanted to know more, to understand more. I felt ripped out of my comfort zone, but weirdly enlightened. I think the experience made me uncomfortable because I was finally confronting an anger and a loneliness that I had spent a long time burying. That may have been the first night where I no longer hid under who I should be and was exposed for who I actually was.
American Idiot 10 Years Later
10 year GIF I made for the occasion.
In honor of the 10th Anniversary of American Idiot (as of yesterday) I decided to revisit this essential album of my adolescence. I made the experience authentic with a late night listen and by pulling out that old tattered booklet. This time I was able to sing along to every song, and you better believe I did! Listening to this album again nearly 10 years after my first listen was equally nostalgic and eye opening.
I listened to tracks like “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” and thought “Huh, that was me 10 years ago, I just didn’t know it yet.” I felt Billie Joe’s pain and grief during “Wake Me Up When September Ends,” since I now could relate to that sense of loss and dread. I finally noticed the call to action in my favorite American Idiot track “Letterbomb”: “Standing still when it’s do or die, you better run for your f**king life! It’s not over till your underground, it’s not over before it’s too late. This city’s burning, ‘it’s not my burden.’ It’s not over before it’s too late.” Feeling like, despite what some may say, this album is still relevant to the scary post 9-11 world we still live in.
Now with 10 years more experience, this album means so much more to me than a simple gateway into punk rock. It spoke to the kid I was 10 years ago even if I wasn’t fully aware of it at the time. In many ways, it still speaks to me now. This album will always be important for me. Even another 10 years from now I can see myself coming back to this album and remembering the door it opened for me.
It’s not the amount of copies American Idiot sold or the amount of airplay its singles got that make this album a classic and a pop punk staple. It’s the fans it created, impacted and completely changed that solidified its place in rock ‘n’ roll history.
Fellow Green Day fans, follow my blog and my Twitter and Tumblr pages! What are your thoughts on American Idiot? Let me know in the comments!
Also check out this really interesting commentary about American Idiot from Consequence of Sound.
And this sweet love letter to American Idiot.
The Tracks At Christie Road 