I’ve been reading a book called Dark Mirror: The Pathology of the Singer-Songwriter by Donald Brackett. It’s about the emotional aspects of writing music. The struggle to say something really meaningful without going too far. Digging around in your soul for universal human truths is heady stuff. If you aren’t careful you might get stuck back there. How do you touch a nerve without frying it? Thinking about that, the first thing that came to mind (nutty little fan that I am) was what happened to Green Day around 2003. I remembered an article talking about how Saint Jimmy kills himself, to which Billie Joe said, “Thank god for art”.

Yes and no. In the end it was Saint Jimmy who imploded, but he came from a real person. He was a live wire of emotions wrestling against any effort to keep him under control. That’s the kind of thing they have to deal with, and it nearly drove the band apart. How could it not, trapped in that stupid maze of regrets and aspirations, all the while knowing there was a way out, if they could find it. Ironically that way was Jimmy himself. A raging, spitting boy with fire in his eyes now contained by a degree of isolation. The artist always knows what makes his brainchild tick. Sometimes it’s best to give him a lead and let him run with it. Saint Jimmy did, straight off the edge of the world. He served his purpose, just like Christian and Gloria are serving theirs.

That’s what really floors me about Green Day. They keep going into the strange half-lit world at the back of the minds. Nobody said they had to. They just keep digging while we wait safely on the other side of the caution tape. Showing us all how to deal with our own live wires. Carefully, and with a lot of patience. Because even our darkest moments are just that. Fleeting.

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