Day 13: Green Day, “Dookie”

When: Released February 1, 1994

Why? A coworker so enjoyed this album, he loaned me a cassette of it the year it came out. Back then, I didn’t know if “Green Day” was the name of the album or the band! But I listened to it—or at least told him I did. I have zero memory of the experience. Since this is the band’s best-selling album at a reported 20 million copies, and it won the Grammy for alternative rock, I decided to finally give it a real listen.

What? Fifteen songs, 38 minutes.

First Impressions: My pre-listening image of Green Day was that they are an alternative punk band. Maybe that colored my expectations. Because after listening to “Dookie,” I didn’t think the band had anything in common with the punk artists I knew. All these inward-looking songs about boredom, laziness, and broken relationships sounded like the exact opposite of what I thought punk should be (based on my limited experience with the genre). This was slacker rock, and I didn’t get it.

After that first listen, I did some research into the making of the album, the stories behind the songs, and the critical appraisal. I wanted to find out why this album is held in such high regard. What was I missing?

I listened again.

That second listen highlighted one of the things I’ve learned about musical appreciation: Sometimes I have to give an album multiple listens before it becomes a favorite. I can’t say that “Dookie” will fall into the “Favorite” category, but I definitely understood it more and appreciated it more the second time around.

The lyrics still don’t relate to my own experience. But I can now see a depth of storytelling (and even satire) that I completely missed the first time. The instrumental performances are terrific and the band is well produced. The guitars sound fantastic and the drums and bass are powerful and even virtuosic. (Mike Dirnt’s bass playing is ridiculous.) I appreciated the use of vocal harmonies throughout. And I especially appreciated the moments when I heard echoes of bands from the Sixties that I love (the Beatles, yes, but also harmonies that sounded directly inspired by the Yardbirds’ “For Your Love”), which suggest that Green Day has been listening to and building upon those legacies.

So? Given my feelings about the for-their-generation-only lyrics, it’s hard for me to say I really liked this. I’m not sure I’ll ever revisit it. But I’m glad to have heard it. And I’m especially glad I gave it a second chance and listened with new ears.

Day 9: Patti Smith, “Horses”

When: Released November 10, 1975

Why? I’ve never heard a Patti Smith song, and she and this album are frequently cited as having planted the seeds for what would become punk music.

What? Eight songs, 43 minutes.

First Impressions: This is one of those times when I fear that it’s nearly impossible to base a judgment on a single listen. But here goes…

This is contemporary poetry of the highest order, often delivered in poetry-slam style with a conviction and insistence that demands we listen. But it isn’t out to shock (necessarily) or be abrasively in your face: It’s insistent not out of anger or rebellion but because the messages seem so personally important to the artist behind the words.

While most of these songs are lengthy, I never felt that any were overlong. They are telling stories with multiple layers, often delivered in multiple sections, that rise and fall, push and pull. There is an hallucinatory quality to much of the imagery here, which will certainly reward deep and repeated listening.

Apple Music—and every reviewer I’ve read—labels this album “punk.” But if you expect Sex Pistols, you’ll be disappointed. As the Apple Music liner notes state, “Calling Horses one of the first statements in punk begs the question of what punk is: A sound? An attitude? A political orientation? A stylistic one? In some ways, Smith was a traditionalist.” That’s most clear in the instrumentation, which can be surprisingly spare, artfully interacting with Smith’s lyrics.

Here, “punk” has nothing to do with the sound, which is sometimes tinged with Fifties jazz, sometimes Seventies rock. Instead, it’s an attitude, a willingness to break down barriers and kick open doors. Consider the opener, “Gloria,” a cover song. Smith takes a raw-sounding popular track by Van Morrison’s band Them and turns it on its head—adding multiple new verses of her own storytelling and flipping the song’s gender to create something truly thrilling.

This feels corny to say, but each song here truly is a multifaceted jewel.

In addition to “Gloria,” highlights for me include “Redondo Beach,” the hallucinatory journey of “Birdland,” “Kimberly” (this song in particular made me think Smith’s vocal delivery was a strong influence on Blondie’s Debbie Harry), and “Land.”

So? Almost 50 years on from its initial release, this album still feels both fresh and relevant. I have no doubt that it will reward multiple plays over the course of many years. It is true, timeless art.

Day 6: Sex Pistols, “Never Mind the Bollocks: Here’s the Sex Pistols”

When: Released October 1, 1977

Why? I’ve never really heard a Sex Pistols song, and this is one of the most important and influential punk albums ever recorded. Interestingly, I do remember that an older bandmate brought a copy of this album to one of our practices, when I played drums and piano in a band called Exodus in high school. I’m sure he played some of it for us—he was so excited about it—but I can’t remember what I thought. (Given what I was listening to back then, I can’t imagine understanding or liking it at the time.)

What? 12 songs spanning 39 minutes of primal punk.

First Impressions: The first things that struck me in the opening track, “Holidays in the Sun,” were the quality of the performances (I was under the impression that they couldn’t really play their instruments; apparently, that was only true of “bassist” Sid Vicious) and the satirical nature of the lyrics. I had not expected satire or wit, and the Pistols deliver both in most songs, featuring creative wordplay and a biting sense of humor. While I would never call him a singer, Johnny Rotten’s (John Lydon’s) sung/spoken delivery has an attitude that fits these songs perfectly, and I believed the authenticity of it far more than I believed Axl Rose’s swagger on “Appetite for Destruction.”

The wordplay on “Submission” is delightful: Told by their manager to write a song about sexual submission, they instead wrote a love song about a “sub mission” looking for love underwater! (Their manager was hoping the song would help to promote a sex boutique he owned, where, coincidentally, Chrissie Hynde worked before founding the Pretenders.) Similarly, “Pretty Vacant” is pretty remarkable—and maybe 30 years ahead of its time.

When you’re in Pistols/punk territory, though, there’s a very fine line between biting satire and bad taste…and I think they crossed over on “Bodies,” an anti-abortion song that is over-the-top ugly and cruel. That said, I never expected to hear an anti-abortion song on a Sex Pistols album! (Lydon has since claimed that the song is neither anti-abortion nor pro-choice. Never mind the bollocks: The lyrics are very clear about his position at the time.)

The only other low points for me were the last two tracks: “New York” and “EMI.” Here, the wit seems to have abandoned them completely. Both are just mean-spirited, insult-laden “screw-yous” to their manager’s former clients (the New York Dolls) and their former record labels (EMI and A&M), respectively, the latter of which dropped them for perfectly justifiable reasons that the Pistols seem oblivious to.

So? A surprisingly witty, raw collection of songs that I could easily listen to again, though I would skip “Bodies,” “New York,” and “EMI.”