It was 1994, and their third album, Dookie, was a commercial blockbuster like no punk album before it had ever been — or ever has been since. The Clash had played arenas, and the Sex Pistols had garnered media attention, but Green Day was the first punk band that truly broke through the mainstream. Singles like "Basketcase" and "When I Come Around" were mainstays on commercial rock radio, and the trio's telegenic faces were all over MTV and any televised music awards show that would have them.
You might think a massive success like selling 20 million copies of Dookie would insulate a band from any hurt feelings, but the '90s was kind of a weird time in music history. Successful bands that emerged from the underground had to defend their breakthrough to fans who'd been there at the beginning and now had to share them with everybody else. And no scene questioned a band's integrity as much as the punk rock world from which Green Day spawned.
So in 1994, when Green Day went from playing sweaty, cramped clubs to monster festivals, a lot of punks swore off their fandom. At the biggest of Green Day's early concerts, the 25th anniversary of Woodstock, the trio seemed to overcompensate in its effort to show off its punk-rock bona fides. Frontman Billy Joe Armstrong went onstage and antagonized the crowd, saying, "How are you doing, you rich motherfuckers?" Fans retorted by throwing balls of mud at the stage, and Green Day retaliated in kind.
Amid the brouhaha, bassist Mike Dirnt was injured by a security guard who confused him for a stage-rushing fan. An attendee reported that he heard Dirnt got three teeth knocked out in the tussle.
A week after Woodstock '94, at that year's Miami edition of Lollapalooza, Green Day was supposed to open. But Armstrong came out and told the crowd they couldn't play, citing Dirnt's injuries.
I was there, and I shrugged off Green Day's excuse. (As long as the Beastie Boys didn't bail, I'd be happy.) But the cancellation likely subliminally influenced my image of Green Day. They went from a band whose videos I looked forward to seeing when they popped on MTV to a band that would have me changing the station. To my teenaged ears, Green Day's three-minute anthems to masturbation and self-loathing, enunciated in Armstrong's faux-British singing voice, went from sounding charming to coming off as cloying and rehearsed.
With the passage of time, though, I can hear the music with fresh (albeit older) ears. Dookie is a record that lived up to its sales. With its catchy hooks and crisp production, it's also understandable why punk rockers were upset. It's not the punk rock of Black Flag or Minor Threat; it's a softer, toned-down version of the genre that eventually became known as pop-punk. It made something newer out of something that was still kind of new.
The band sounds so assured and confident on Dookie that it's surprising to learn that Armstrong, Dirnt, and drummer Tre Cool were only 22 when the album was recorded. Given their youth and the fact they were from Northern California, you might have expected that their canceled Lollapalooza appearance would have marked the band's South Florida debut. But Green Day were road warriors who'd already played the Miami Beach club Washington Square twice and opened for Bad Religion at the Fort Lauderdale venue known today as Revolution Live.
It turns out it takes a lot of practice to make music that sounds so effortless.
Over the years, Green Day embraced the pop world in a way young punks could never imagine. An actual Broadway musical, American Idiot, was crafted out of the band's songs. They accepted Nickelodeon Kids' Choice Awards. They earned a spot in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame.
And on Sunday, Green Day headlines Hard Rock Stadium as the biggest selling punk-rock band ever.
Green Day, Fall Out Boy, and Weezer. 5:30 p.m. Sunday, August 1, at Hard Rock Stadium, 347 Don Shula Dr., Miami Gardens; 305-943-8000; hardrockstadium.com. Tickets cost $29 to $234 via ticketmaster.com.