MY number-one claim to fame at the moment, besides being an occasional contributor to this paper, is that I am a nonplayable character in the Green Day edition of Rock Band. Thanks to 20 minutes of relentlessly refreshing the Ticketmaster event listing, I was able to snag tickets to the band’s sold-out secret show at the Fox Theater in Oakland in the spring of last year. One of the first things I noticed that night was a huge camera on a crane that swung over the audience periodically during the show. Next thing I know, the tech blogs are telling me that the Fox Theater is the final level in the game. Somewhere in the crowd, there is a probably an unrecognizable blob modeled after my face. The second thing I noticed that night in the crowd is that Green Day’s audience is getting simultaneously younger and older. More and more kids discover them in their local modern-rock rotation, while their parents realize they’re not as scary as they used to be. Gone are the days of Gilman spitfire and street cred, the latter of which has hung in the balance for two decades now. Never ones to give a flying you-know-what about whatever kind of “cred” they might have, Green Day have channeled their youthful belligerence into a wacky, nonoffensive live show with costumes, sing-alongs and a troupe of supporting musicians in tow, including venerable session man Jason Freese, and sometimes, San Josean Kurt Lohmiller. They’re a little more family-friendly these days, but they still entertain. Contrary to what they said back in 1994, they’re not burning out, they’re just growing up.
Saturday, 7pm
Shoreline Amphitheatre
$20–$50
