NIRVANA
With one album, Nirvana changed rock & roll. Before "Smells Like Teen Spirit" and Nevermind were released in 1991, alternative and post-punk rock had never been considered profitable or commercial. Nirvana changed the record industry's conception of what was mainstream, as well as the public's. Nevermind marked a shift in the mainstream, when punk rock finally reclaimed the rock & roll mainstream for themselves. Other post-punk bands that crossed over into the mainstream had done so slowly; by the time U2 and R.E.M. became superstars in 1987, their audiences were large enough to guarantee them a hit album. Besides, neither band had as much raw guitars and naked angst as Nirvana; they were as close to a punk band as possible in the 90s.
Nirvana combined strands of rock from all eras into one explosive burst of rage. Combining the melodic pop of the Beatles, the 70s sludge of Black Sabbath, the spiky song structure of the Pixies, with the fierce indie ethics of the American indie underground ofthe 80s, the band came up with a signature pop-punk that was distinctly their own.
Bleach, their 1989 debut, made the band underground darlings and led to a major-label contract. In 1990, Dave Grohl became Nirvana's permanent drummer, teaming with bassist Chris Novoselic to form the fiercest rhythm section in rock. Guitarist/vocalist Kurt Cobain's new songs surpassed anything on their debut; his songs were stunning, concise bursts of melody and rage, that occasionally spilled over into haunting, folk-styled acoustic ballads.
Nevermind wasn't expected to sell over 100,000 copies; by early 1992, the album was the top-selling record in the country. However, the band's personal fortunes weren't as smooth. During 1992, Cobain developed a debilitating heroin habit which strained relations with the rest of the band. By the beginning of 1993, Cobain had admitted that he had just detoxed from heroin, which he claimed he used to fight a chronic stomach problem. Nirvana released their third album, in September of 1993; the album debuted at number one and soon went double platinum. The band launched a US tour in October; all of the articles about the band portrayed a happier, calmer Cobain.
Those images began to unravel in March of 1994, when he overdosed on champagne and tranquelizers while on vacation in Rome. For all of March, rumors were flying about Nirvana's future. All of the rumors stopped on April 8, when Cobain's body was discovered at his home in Seattle; he died three days earlier of a self-inflicted gunshot wound.
Since his death, Cobain has been equally revered and reviled; he wasn't universally mourned because he wasn't universally loved. Even after Nevermind, Nirvana's music was too raw for many listeners. But that doesn't mean that Cobain was not gifted or that his music was not important. Nirvana proved to both the record companies and the public that post-punk music and culture had a prominent place in mainstream culture. More importantly, the band made some ndeniably great music.

Green Day

I'm sitting in a falling-down hovel on a ramshackle back street in downtown Berkeley. All around me are boxes of memories: old records, demo tapes, broken guitar strings, bent staples, pointless pieces of paper and cardboard, a million shards and fragments of a punk rock dream.

This is where Lookout Records used to live. This is where some goofy kids banded together to set the world on its ear with the East Bay punk rock explosion that produced groups like Operation Ivy, Crimpshrine, Rancid, and, of course, Green Day.

Now, in the name of 'progress,' the place is being turned into condos and I've got a few days to pick up the pieces, figure out what goes, what stays, and most of all, what it all meant. To help me in my musings, I'm listening to an old mix tape - stuff like "Disappearing Boy," "Who Wrote Holden Caulfield," "Welcome To Paradise." The nostalgia is thick enough to cut with a knife.

I'm roused from my reverie by the phone. Of all people, it's Billie Joe. "Hey man, we'd like you to write something about our new album, Warning." "That's really flattering," I say, "but why me? I'm just some old school dude who knew you guys back in the day. People don't want to hear more stories about Gilman Street and backyard shows and touring the country on a shoestring. What do I know about Green Day in the year 2000?"

"Dude, just listen to the record, okay?"

So I do... once, twice, five times. It's catchy, it's infectious, almost habit-forming, but it's definitely not the Green Day I knew when they were gawky 16-year-olds. I don't know quite how to describe it until Billie mentions in passing, "I've been listening to a lot of old Bob Dylan lately, especially that album where he first used a band."

I know the album: it was called Bringing It All Back Home, and I suddenly realize that's what the new Green Day record is all about. It's been a long strange trip since Green Day exploded out of the close-knit East Bay punk rock scene to become international superstars, and not all of it was smooth going.

On the surface, it's every kid's dream come true, but the reality of it is a hard slog, with people turning against you, your core values being tested and questioned at every turn. By the time they released their last record in 1997, Green Day knew it was time to take a break, to step back, spend some quality time with families and friends, and figure out what really mattered.

For Billie especially, it was all about home. Most of all the home where he and his wife are raising their two sons, but also "the regularity that comes with being a normal human, just a guy who does the shopping and stops in at the local cafe." With five albums under their belt, the bandmembers were in no hurry to make another one, at least not until they were sure what they wanted to do next.

"Our last album was kind of transitional," Billie says. "We weren't really sure which direction we wanted to go. But this time I knew I wanted to let every single vulnerability about myself come out. Most of all, I wanted to write songs that one day my boys could look back on and say, 'My dad, he was a guy who had a lot of hope.'"

And hope comes shining forth all over this album. There's still the dark sarcasm and inyour- face rebelliousness that have always been a part of Green Day lyrics, but when, in "Macy's Day Parade," Billie sings, "I'm looking for a brand new hope, the one I've never known," there's no doubting where his heart really is.

The theme of hope is there again in "Hold On," a song Billie wrote for a friend who'd gone through an unthinkable series of personal tragedies. "A cry of hope, a plea for peace, and my conscience beating," he sings. And then, "As I run to the edge of a shadow of a doubt, with my conscience bleeding, there lies the truth, the lost treasures of my youth, as I hold on to the break of day."

Of all the treasures of youth, hope is one of the hardest to hold onto, especially when you're working in an industry that's constantly telling you you're only as good as the last great thing you did. Growing up is confusing enough as it is; growing up as rock and roll stars without becoming terminally jaded and cynical must be next to impossible.

Yet somehow that's what Green Day have managed to accomplish. Here are three guys who've been playing music professionally for more than half their lives, who were touring the country and the world when they were still teenagers, who were just 21 when Dookie went gold and then mega-platinum. Most bands would be content to rest on their laurels, to enjoy their success and, most of all, stick to the formula that got them where they were.

But the only "formula" Green Day ever had was to have no formula. From the beginning their success came from going against the grain. People once tried to pigeonhole them as a punk band, but as Billie recalls, "We never fit in completely to that scene because we were writing love songs that were heartfelt and endearing. Some of the punks didn't know what to make of us, but I finally realized that was what made us punk. We sang what we meant, from the heart, and didn't worry about what anyone was going to think."

Okay, maybe I lied. Maybe there is a formula of sorts, and if there is, it revolves around those "heartfelt and endearing" love songs Billie was talking about. Back in 1988 most of them were about girls and unrequited love and adolescent insecurity; now, in 2000, they've grown to include things like family and home and finding a place in this world where you can live and grow and feel as though you belong. Broader themes, maybe, but they're still love songs in the best possible sense of the word, and every bit as heartfelt and endearing.

In 1964, at the height of Beatlemania, a reporter stopped a kid coming out of a store clutching the new Beatles album. "What are you going to tell your kids in the year 2000 when they ask you what that whole Beatles thing was about? Was it the crowds, the screaming and fainting girls, the haircuts, what?" The kid, obviously wise beyond his years, said, "Just listen to the songs, man."

Good advice then, and just as good today. I could go on for hours telling you about Green Day, where they came from, how important they are, what gifted musicians and songwriters they are, how exciting their live shows are, what wonderful people they are, how much they love their moms, but I'd be wasting my time and yours. Everything you need to know is right here on this record. Just listen to the songs.