Rod Liddle Rod Liddle

The last great purveyors of a vanishing art form: Green Day’s Fathers of All… reviewed

Britain has never had much time for the kind of power pop that Green Day excel in

issue 07 March 2020

Grade: B+

It is an eternal mystery to me why Britain has never had much time for power pop, seeing as we gave this often charming genre to the world through the Beatles and, to a lesser extent, Badfinger. But we never really swung for it, post-Abbey Road.

When power pop had its mild renaissance in late ’78, we looked away, bored, tugged by disco on the one hand and po-faced boring angular post-punk on the other. The Knack’s ‘My Sharona’ — the epitome of power pop — got in the charts, sure. But there was no groundswell. In the USA it was different. Almost everything labelled punk that wasn’t art rock (i.e. Television and Talking Heads) was actually power pop, none more so than the Ramones. We remained aloof. I suppose this is why we never really bought into Green Day.

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