Monday night’s show at the Bowery Ballroom was nothing less than a religious experience. Yes, I know I’m being over-the-top, but I’m sticking to my story. And it’s not like I’ve never seen Green Day perform live before. I’ve seen them maybe ten times. And yet I was completely floored.

Billie Joe is like a rock and roll reverend, tending to his sweaty, mesmerized flock. He gathers his audiences in a tight embrace and clutches them to his chest. When he announces that rock and roll is his religion, it’s partly just the kind of thing a rock god says at concerts to get audiences pumped, but there’s the sense that that he means just what he says. And as a minister of the church of rock and roll, he sends big wet kisses, slobbered joyously all over his fawning and delighted audiences. People say that Green Day saved their lives. I’m never quite sure what that means exactly. To me, the salvation they offer is from that gray sameness that creeps over your life when you’re not looking.

Rolling Stone called the show “goofy jubilation.” That sounds about right.

Billie Joe was in a great mood, loving everything, grinning from ear to ear. It’s completely infectious. One moment he’s the king holding court, the next he puts on some goofy glasses from someone in the audience. Sometimes when he’s running around the stage he looks like a little kid eager to show you the drawings he just made. Then he breaks into head-thrashing rock-god mode. It would make you dizzy to think about it, but you’re just along for the ride. No thinking required. Everyone I could see all around me was crazy-in-love with every second of it.

Going in, I thought I might be slightly bummed out that I’m not entirely familiar with all the new songs (I love knowing all the words and anticipating all the changes just as they’re about to kick in — perhaps I’m a bit of a control freak…) but the songs from 21st Century Breakdown were the part of the show that I loved the most. I was swept into the middle of the crowd from the very first song, and I found myself unfazed — actually delighted — at being pulled along by the churning sea of bodies. There are those times when you become so engrossed in the moment that you almost forget yourself. You might be watching a play that’s so compelling you feel like you’ve become one of the characters. Or you could be at a Green Day show, and just feel overjoyed.

The second set, after they had left the stage for a few minutes, was older material, from American Idiot going all the way back to 39 Smooth. One of the highlights was Tre doing Dominated Love Slave. Billie Joe had to show him the chords, which was pretty funny. Tre said “Thank you Billie Joe,” in this little-kid voice, like he was thanking his teacher. They also played Who Wrote Holden Caulfield and Going to Pasalacqua, which they dedicated to Larry Livermore, who was in the audience (read Larry’s comments).

A girl was pulled from the crowd to sing Longview, which she screwed up. It was great. I’m not knocking her, it was a perfect punk rock moment. It was even funnier the next night, at Webster Hall (yes, I went to that too… I’m really sorry for being such a lucky bitch). The guy from the audience who came up to sing Longview at Webster Hall was actually great. Then Billie Joe sang the rest of the song, and he screwed up the lyrics. To Longview! How awesome is that?

I’ll write something about Webster Hall tomorrow. Yeah, I’m always late…

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Bowery Ballroom setlist: 21st Century Breakdown, Know Your Enemy, East Jesus Nowhere, Before The Lobotomy, Last Of The American Girls, Murder City, ?Viva La Gloria? (Little Girl), Static Age, 21 Guns, American Eulogy, See The Light, American Idiot, Jesus of Suburbia, Longview, Who Wrote Holden Caulfield, Dominated Love Slave, Going to Pasalacqua, She, King for A Day/Shout, Minority.

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