Title: Green Day’s 14th Album “Saviors” Review: Grotesque but Dashing Explosion of Sound

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Back with a bang with “Saviors”, a grotesque but dashing 14th album for eternal kids, the group drawn from the depths of Californian indie by sudden fame in the mid-90s continues in 2024 to happily not give a damn.

The feeling of listening to The Beatles, Queen, The Ramones and Duck Dance played simultaneously on the biggest speakers in the universe. Everything is inflated with helium, ready to explode, it’s incredible, overwhelming, and at the same time it evaporates on contact with the air, totally transparent, harmless. We have the impression that if we stuck an instrument in our hands, we could accompany them on stage without putting one aside, everything is so simple, square, clumsy, obvious. It sounds like one of those songs that 4-year-old children improvise, inventing the melody and lyrics in real time, as they progress in their delirium and from which scraps of intelligible sentences sometimes emerge (” I’m not stupid”, “will you be my girlfriend?”, “the American dream is killing me”).

Saviors, Green Day’s 14th album, is, overall, a horribly indigestible thing which can, at times, be touching (Suzie Chapstick, Goodnight Adeline), even contagious (1981, Living in the ’20s). It even happens that a title reminds, for a moment, that Green Day was, at the very beginning of the 90s, this small group from Berkeley, California, that no one really liked but for whom we all had a certain affection. Three guys with good minds who made fresh and melodic punk rock, a kind of American Undertones whose songs all seemed interchangeable but which corresponded to

2024-01-19 06:51:02
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