Undercover Presents: A Tribute To Green Day's Dookie.

It is 7PM in Oakland California, and downtown a strange crowd has gathered under the bedecked ceilings of Telegraph Avenue's Fox Theatre. There among the ambiguities alcoves of eastern interpretative architecture, old time punk rockers in chains and leather vests older than most of you reading this, share the floor space in what is most likely a unprecedented union with teenage fangirls, budding musicians, the towns mayor Libby Schaff and a gaggle of belly dancers in tight gold booty shorts.

They share perhaps two things in common.

The first thing is that each in their own way, have found themselves gathered here with keen and soulful purpose. The second being that they are now waiting before the impressive set of red velvet curtains, not entirely sure of what to expect from their most recent ticket purchase. In this moment we might find the very overture of the entire night becoming clear to all; to expect nothing but the unexpected.

The show is being hosted by an outfit named 'Undercover Presents' - a member of the Intersection Incubator, a program run by the folks still breathing life into what is respectively the Bay Area's oldest alternative art space. Their own mission statement provides an outline for the evening ahead, stating as follows.

"Undercover presents is a grassroots collective that gathers musicians from every corner of the bay area music community to celebrate the influence of classic albums. The concept is simple: Bands are invited based on their enthusiasm for the album from a range of different musical genres that reflect the diverse styles and cultures that make bay area music unique. Each band picks a different song from the album and infuses it with their own distinctive sound and personality."

The opening missive from their team members to the crowd, whose outfits are as bright as their persona, includes a promise of this fulfilment. That we will bare witness to the angst ridden laments of 1994 breakthrough album 'Dookie' as we have never heard them before. Hence the first special guest of the night is introduced in theatrical fashion, the aptly named 'Le Dookie' - a 5ft tall flashing neon green turd with a permanent gurn fit to rival Johnny Rotten. Le Dookie is a guest of honour.Of course the band that warrants such appearances of distinction , are none other than one of the town's most famous exports, the hotly debated powerhouse that is Green Day.

Most of the people standing on the floor who might have had to take a plane, train or long car trip to be here today might yet be deeply disappointed to find out that this is in fact, not a Green Day show. It is an effort to raise money for 924 Gilman street, a non-profit all ages club serving the punk and alternative scene since the mid 80's, the brain child of MaximumRocknRoll founder Tim Yohannan. For anyone who has ever paid more than a passing span of attention to the history behind the band will know that these musicians are no ordinary big label produce. In fact you might find meat in this once astonishing collaboration. Green Day were a firm part of the 924 family, having even been the very place perhaps the band as we know it was formed. Frontman Billie Joe Armstrong and bassist Mike Dirnt in coalition with Al Sobrante (John Kiffmeyer of Isocracy) and Sean Huges were formerly known as The Sweet Children, a short lived toil that left a watermark on what is wrongly considered Green Day's debut studio album '1,039/Smoothed Out Slappy Hours' (Produced by Andy Ernst on Lookout! Records - Ears of Art Studio), in the form of songs originally recorded with Skene! in Minnesota. '1,039/Smoothed out slappy hours' is actually a compilation of their early recordings including work from original discography and EP's '39 smooth', 'Sweet Children', 'Slappy' and '1000 hours'. Sean Hughes left the group in 1988, and Al shortly after, leaving the pair scouring the grounds for a replacement drummer. The Gilman crowd did not disappoint, and Lookout! owner Larry Livermore promptly provided the boys with their eccentric drummer (now of 30 years), Tre Cool of 'The Lookouts'. Of course with ode to cliche, thus the band Green Day was born. The Gilman Street project was the band's ground zero.

However it was not too long before the young and ambitious trio sorely affronted the DIY ethos of the club, finding themselves being courted by several major record labels, one potential manger even going so far as to invite them to Disney Land. Impressed by his work with LA girl Kim Shattuck's band 'The Muffs', Green Day eventually signed with major label Reprise Records under the influence of Rob Cavallo, shortly before the production of the album behind tonight's tribute. The Gilman's sentiment is summed up for us in the opinion of long-term friend and fellow musician, Jesse Townley, known to many as Jesse Luscious, Blatz vocalist and a man that was key to be sold on tonight's efforts.

“I’m one of the primary people who passed the ‘no major labels’ ban at Gilman in 1994 — mostly in response to Green Day’s huge success. We did not want to become the minor leagues for the major labels. When they signed to a major label, it was against my personal ethics and how I would run my business. Some on the Gilman side have never forgiven Green Day for signing with a major. Others have made peace with it.” Townley said. He concluded quite plainly with the words “There’s a lot of people and a lot of opinions.”

Armstrong himself addressed this briefly with 'Spin' magazine back in 1999, "I couldn't go back to the punk scene, whether we were the biggest success in the world or the biggest failure. The only thing I could do was get on my bike and go forward."

So it is with no small irony that Dookie was the album chosen for the projects beneficiary, the very 40 minutes of Grammy winning record, produced by Cavallo in Berkeley's Fantasy Studios (interestingly the same studio that Undercover's downloadable soundtrack was recorded), that launched them into the stratospheric success which saw them dishonorably discharged from the ranks of their former homestead.

Tonight the room is blithe to this sense of superiority and that old refuge of the puritan and exclusive, as Green Day themselves stand alongside their former peers and allies, to watch Richie Bucher's immediately recognisable jet plane arc forward to dive bomb the stage and crowd, setting the pace for other pieces of Dookie's art work, both drawn and musical, to come to life by the hands of the town that raised them. A chaotic bliss ensues.

The talent chosen by Undercover introduce themselves via a Pre-recorded video message, including recounts of how this down to earth collection of coming of age cri de coeur (That happens to be number 193 of The Rolling Stones 500 albums of all time and the bands best seller, at over 20 million copies world wide) touched their personal developments and it is a reassuring edification that, like them or hate them, the punk-rock pundits have now forever changed the meaning of music for several generations.

The line up is a hugely varied cacophony of genres, races, ages, genders and experience. It races through the thick of the album with an unstoppable other-worldly magnitude, transporting us easily across the globe and beyond, on the wings of undeniable craft and a backdrop display courting an LSD fueled melee of visual lyricism.

The all girl line up 'Marston' headed by Oona Garthwaite is first to own the spotlight with their dark swirling rendition of 'Burnout', in a style that puts me in the mind of beach rock duo Best Coast but with a crown of beautiful foreboding.

'Having a Blast' explodes before us with the unlikely but charmingly addictive hybrid of mariachi punk, meted by the capable hands of the band Le Plebe.

'Chump' - is delivered with a certain longing by the soulful energy of 'Sal's Greenhouse' with reggae elements that create a gorgeous rock fusion that leaves this song unrecognisable in the most delicious way.

Lead single 'Longview' is astounding when bought to a stunning ethereal patent by Jazz Mafia's Choral Syndicate. To hear a punk brat anthem primarily about the precepts of being bored and lazy injected with such auroral fission is the pinnacle of what Undercover is about. They take something almost unfathomable and they truly make it work; they roused the metaphysical goosebumps upon many with this pairing . With certainty a special formula has been built here, and all grandiosity aside, this is probably the closest you will ever come to hearing a gospel choir sing about masturbation.

The closely following three and a half minute whine and admittance that is 'Welcome to Paradise' sees the ode to OakTown dolefully introduced by MoeTar's vocalist Moorea Dickason, before launching into a punchy spin on the song which honestly would not have sounded out of place in a rock based Broadway show.

Self professed "Loud Rock" band 'Love Songs' delivers a fast paced version of 'Pulling Teeth' that is slightly truer to genre form with elements of metal and ska.

'Basket Case' has perhaps never been so duly represented as by punk art group 'The Fuxedos' carnival of the bizarre, which included an almost 6 minute rant which could be loosely narrowed down to a state of the nation satire on an overly medicated America and the accidental ability to see through Squid and 'other sea creatures'. (And you thought the fish related hallucinations in the music video were weird!) Although perhaps the oddest installation of the night, it was brilliantly done and rang out with a clean clear note of truth and relevancy.

Goodnight Texas pull no punches with their introduction of 'She' via a subtle but shameless Rancid jibe. Of course a band that pours a country twang, plenty of banjo and a pretty impressive acoustic guitar solo into a song by a band among whose most famous titles is 'American Idiot' must be pretty free of hang ups to begin with.

'Sassafras Roots' is a captivating affair by gutsy Arabian rebel' 'Mc Rai' that begins with an Arabic chant that sounds like a call to middle eastern meditation. The extravagant interpretation is something I suspect is like nothing ever witnessed by anyone in the room before and it is phenomenal. Tunisian born artist, real name Mohamed Chaoua, found kinship in Armstrong's quietly disguised brilliance, buck of authority and expectation; under the house lights, with scantly clad women performing a western taste of Arabian 'Opinion', that attitude burns through like the desert sun.

NVO. feat Bosko sell an electronica vision of 'When I come around' which wouldn't feel out of place as a sly salute to masked anomalies The Network. (Absolutely NO affiliation to Green Day. Whatsoever.) If you've ever been to see The Prodigy live....this Performance was probably a whole lot more fun.

Nearing the end of the 14 song bill a type of nostalgic laundry airing and the introduction to the stage the front of the pit (and some very loud females) have been waiting for takes place. Green Day are welcomed to the stage and applauded, praised, and reminded that they once made questionable sales to people, including a VW bug without back seats. ( 'The worst f***ing car' Kamala Parks had ever owned).

I almost forgot to mention. The Mayor of Oakland was there - baring a gift of a most unique kind. Borne of oversized cardboard officiality, Friday February 19th 2016 was proclaimed 'Green Day Day'.

Armstrong, seeming a little awkward, simply deemed this fact (in true Oakland spirit) 'Hella Cool'.

Then by way of admittance to the next band he encouraged young people to play more music, and with a touch of friendly prolegomenon, he introduced 'Skank Bank' , who would be covering 'Coming Clean'. This song that is apparently based on 'coming out of the closet', with a strong hat tilt to Armstrong's own unabashed bisexuality.

Skank Bank, whose members are still in high school, take to the stage with mind blowing aptitude. Here you can see a brilliant example of exactly who Green Day once were. A fun loving brand of punk belies boyish ambition, propensity and a faculty that is perhaps still illusive even to themselves -they possess an immense presence of potential to be among some of Gilman's finest, and then some.

The dapper Martin Luther of the more hip hop vibe provides a rich, velvety lay down of 'In the End' that would easily rival anything ever produced by RnB heavyweights R Kelly or Usher.

Last but not least 'The Awesome Orchestra' conducted by Brian Adam McCune, featuring many special guests, including Sam Schwartz and members of Tilt (a band that originally accompanied Green Day on tour with Dookie). Bill Collins and Cinder Bischoff fly a jaunty punk flag with timeless lupine potency at the front of the pack during F.O.D. The Orchestra collaborations are nothing short of resplendent genius, another daring win for Undercover who have managed to make this incredibly unique assembly, a sui generis variety hour, all look effortless, and left Billie Joe Armstrong himself scratching his head under the watchful gaze of associates, family and fans alike, emitting a loss for words.

The corresponding encore and wrap of the night is full fledged theatre and stagecraft. The entire cast and crew swamp the performance space in a final and amusing pageant of a lesser known song. Tre Cool's comical reflection of unrequited love with just a hint of stalker vibe, 'All by Myself'. It proves to be a crowd favourite.

This was not your average Green Day show. This was not your average anything show. In fact as previously mentioned, the word average truly does not pertain to anybody involved.

Seeing Dookie so spectacularly disrobed will remain in the halls of memory for those who attended for a long time coming. Feasibly most of all with Green Day themselves. Perhaps one of the most musically controversial bands on the planet, they are often misunderstood and both under and over estimated in different walks of expectation. Fronted symbolically by their slight, scruffy figurehead, a man that is perfectly misaligned with himself and the kingdom that he has built. They own a creed of magic and drive which has led them to conquer like Hannibal, parts of the the entertainment industry left untouched by those previously wielding the sullen and almost apologetic tool of punk, and Armstrong, alive in the pathos of his music, remains fierce and free of apology.

He has always played with a translucent fury of love for the roots of his inspirational animus, making this homage so perfect for the curative figure of the dissonance within punk. Perchance it is out of reluctant respect for this very spirit that the 924 has found purchase of a new footing on old stomping ground, and found space to re-embraced their lotharian offspring.

For a band who are known worldwide but whose members still tote a tattooed self proclamation that asserts them a product of the East Bay, their acceptance into the rock and roll hall of fame last year might yet be bested as an articulation of who they are and always will be, by their homecoming as allies of the Gilman. A more concrete calligraphy of poetic justice than any elected executive could draft - one that will hopefully give way to yet more of the special kind of beauty that is a guitar string taut with antipathy. Staving off the throes with a fitting deaf defiance, Oakland is always keen to remind you, that punk is yet to die here.

WORDS: Billy Jackson

#Review #GREENDAY #DOOKIE #PUNK #PUNKROCK #UNDERVOCERPRESENTS #FOXTHEATRE #BASKETCASE #BILLIEJOEARMSTRONG #TRECOOL #MIKEDIRNT #1994 #ANNIVERSARY