FEBRUARY 20 — Billy Joe Armstrong stood steady on stage and was in two minds. Rain, wind and fire from props behind him, it stayed fluttering between his fingers.
Not that Green Day’s lead vocalist rejected the Malaysian flag handed over to him by a fan but that he was unsure what would be acceptable or not, a cultural faux pas he intended to avoid.
He draped it on himself, sang the song to its end and politely handed it over to the side-stage crew.
Being eager is not an excuse when international stars inadvertently insult nationals or nations. Symbols matter, more so how we treat them. They knew.
It was not the lads from Rodeo, California’s first, well, rodeo.
But that was the only indecision in the two hours of honesty poured down on the Malaysian people like the rain which was as incessant as the rock and roll. If you were not there, I am sorry. You really missed it.
Tuesday, February 18, 2025 was the day when destiny brought the most politically charged American band of recent decades together with its unrelenting fans in a country more adept at avoiding hard truths.
While fans probably can sing every line of every song of the band’s every track, uncertainty remains whether Malaysian fans imbue the passion, ambition and commitment the band and their songs exclaim.
To me it seems antithetical to be tuned in to Green Day’s harmony, chorus and riffs while simultaneously tuned out from the band’s demand for attention, action and belief in the ideas central to the very songs.
I’m going to believe the songs spoke to the audience, how can they not?
Their lyrics are not obscure with occasional innuendos to progress, they are body smashes at institutions which stand in humanity’s march to unity and equality.
I wanna be the minority/ I don’t need your authority/ Down with the moral majority (Minority, Warning album)
Two nights ago, around dinner time, a bunch of Malaysian politicians would have felt a wincing pain in the gut, sensing an animal spirit gnawing their insides, from thousands bellowing in a stadium against majoritarianism.
It amazes also that the government did not realise that they approved the most radical, global and outspoken band of this generation to speak to Malaysians through song for two hours.
The approval leans probably on the band’s open support for Gaza— Armstrong had a Palestinian flag moment late in the performance.
What The Clash did for revolutionaries worldwide in the 1970s and Rage Against the Machine represented in the 1990s against modern capitalism’s nefarious neo-colonialism, the flag of defiance through music remains unconquered thanks to the trio from San Francisco’s Bay Area.
Thirty-five years later, after their initial success with 1994’s Dookie, the three stay together with little trouble. Why?
The band is a project they can commit to, as it believes in things they share, rather than a hit machine which achieves commercial adulation. Their sense of import originates from their own collective moral core rather than fixations on money they can milk out of a tour or album.
It’s difficult to have a band belt out almost all their signature songs — and there are many, many — regardless of the toil it necessitates.
Though rock royalty, in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame since 2015, they still left it all out on stage. Pouting does not befit their crown, since the people, not industry moguls, oversaw their coronation.
How not to say this was not speaking to the Malaysian people, to us, when Armstrong got the stadium up to scream:
Bringing on the fury/The choir infantry/Revolt against the honour to obey (oh-eh, oh-eh)Overthrow the effigy/The vast majority/ Well, burning down the foreman of control (oh-eh, oh-eh) [Know Your Enemy, 21st Century Breakdown album]
It worried no one that the opening act Bunkface was removed from the day, due to logistics according to the organiser a week before.
Perhaps there was a shortage of equipment or transportation to Bukit Jalil that day, because it could not be possible a nominal Malaysian band would voluntarily pass up the chance to open for one of the most iconic bands in the world.
Though Green Day’s direct support for LGBT rights, and Armstrong’s bisexuality may have made Bunkface’s “Akhir Zaman (End of days)” song’s line “LGBT boleh pergi mampus (LGBT folks can go and die)” incongruous with the American band. Yes, it’s lucky logistics held back Bunkface from the concert.
Moving from Dookie to American Idiot, it felt that the weather conspired with the band. It drizzled without pause in the first half, in the second half reminiscing about the Bush Administration it burst down on those standing in the open air.
When it came to the love-lost-grief-acceptance — Green Day comes close to Queen when it comes to sheer number of stadium anthems — in a song, Wake me up, when September ends (American Idiot album) elicits too familiar but irregular emotions in fans.
To sing Here comes the rain again/ Falling from the stars/ Drenched in my pain again/ Becoming who we are when the tropical skies teared down on the masses was a moment all present would take to their graves.
For me personally, it cannot be put in words, at the end of the 24-song setlist, Armstrong slipped into Good Riddance (Time of your life) from Nimrod album. If my life after it expires had a montage, it would be to tell the funeral audience, even if they were only one, It’s something unpredictable/ But in the end, it’s right/I hope you had the time of your life.
Bukit Jalil Hockey Stadium, on a wet Tuesday evening, was not of two minds. It was solidarity in tune, those witnesses are ambassadors. Up to them if they help more Malaysians tune in to the music of unity, rather than the prose of hate.
* This is the personal opinion of the writer or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of Malay Mail.
