The Time of Our Lives

Many gigs you go to are not what you would call ‘fun’.

They can be intense, powerful, moving, uplifting and, sometimes, a little dull. But few bands, I’ve found, do fun well.

Sometimes you wonder if there’s actually any enjoyment from being up on stage such is the lack of interaction between performers and audience.

 

So, much like I’ll always turn out for Terrorvision, I feel the same about Green Day.

I know that my ticket price will guarantee me more than two hours of solid rock entertainment and a shedload of good tunes.

They aren’t perfect by any means and Billie-Joe has a tendency to overdo the call and response stuff, but weighing everything up they are always well in credit.

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The last couple of times I’ve seen them has been at the Manchester Arena which is too big, really, even though they can sell all the seats.

We – by which I mean me and Gill – were about as far back as it is possible to go on this occasion facing the stage in the upper tier.

It’s not their fault they’ve outgrown provincial theatres but you know the experience would be more suited to a concentrated, packed out, 3,000-capacity venue than in a 18,000-seat barn.

That said, there’s no getting away from the fact that they literally come to play. No moodiness, no muttered asides – it’s full on from the word go.

This show differed from others I’ve seen only in that they had more songs to choose from.

The high watermark remains the stuff from American Idiot, but no matter what they pluck from their back catalogue you know they’ll play it with balls out commitment – and often you can’t ask for much more.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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