The American Music Awards the other night were a dull affair. Uninspired music that people only truly enjoy at keggers, paired with the two least engaging hosts this side of James Franco and Anne Hathaway? Pass!
The first two and a half hours were like escaping from Shawshank: I had to tunnel through 500 yards of crap to get to the good stuff. Still, I watched knowing that my suffering would be rewarded. I was not disappointed, either, because that reward was a fiery (literally) appearance by Green Day.
The band performed their fierce single "Bang Bang," and added a little something special to the tune's already furious lyrics: a chant of "No Trump, no KKK, no fascist USA! No Trump, no KKK, no fascist USA!"
Don't believe me? (Begins about 2:15.)
As far as political jabs of that evening, I'll take Green Day's fervent chanting over Gigi Hadid's brutally unfunny Melania Trump impression.
It's no secret that I've had nothing but disdain for Trump from day one. He was elected and I begrudgingly accept that, but that doesn't change the fact I think he's a disgusting creature and I'm beyond ashamed to call him our future president. He hasn't even been inaugurated yet and he continues to show he's a terrible choice for America a little more each day.
Blasting our toddler-elect in such a fashion is guaranteed to attract controversy and cries from the "keep politics and art separate" crowd. Yeah, good luck. Politics and entertainment are companions. One cannot exist without the other, and no amount of conservative hand-wringing will dissolve that bond.
Their performance was enough to get anyone's adrenaline rushing, but for me, it was overwhelming because it came at just the right time in my life. I should not have this many feelings over a band showing up to a lame awards show and playing music.
But I did. I felt overcome with wide-eyed glee. I felt piqued enough to smash dishes. I felt my massive crush on mid-2000s Billie Joe Armstrong resurfacing (sorry not sorry.) Most importantly, for the first time since the start of the school year, I felt free from nearly everything troubling me.
This semester has been difficult. Aside from this monstrosity of an election and feeling like the country I call home no longer feels that way, I realized the life I thought I wanted after college was not for me, and I had to intensely reassess my interests and values. Add in the pressure of finding a part-time job, a faculty strike, and the everyday inconveniences of college life? All signs point to disaster.
At the pit of my depression last month, "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" popped up on Spotify, and it was the first time I'd heard that song in a while. I remember listening closely to the lyrics and thinking "Wow, this perfectly captures what I'm feeling. That feeling of soul-sucking despair and world-weariness." I gained an appreciation for that song that I didn't have as a fifth grader. Is it a bleak song? Yes, but it is oddly comforting. The rest of their American Idiot album quickly followed, and I found myself loving them again, and not just for nostalgia's sake.
Which leads me to this moment. Though I only watched them on TV, Green Day connected to me so well and spoke so directly to my soul that I may as well have been in the audience.
In the unlikely event that the band or anyone even tangentially tied to them is reading this: thank you for speaking up, thank you for creating, thank you for inspiring, thank you for being.
