And you never will be!

Funny story — "A guy walks up to me and asks 'What's Punk?'. So I kick over a garbage can and say 'That's punk!'. So he kicks over the garbage can and says 'That's Punk?', and I say 'No that's trendy!'". Yup, straight from the mouth of Billie Joe Armstrong and into my ears and out onto this hallowed cultural text or palimpsest, if you prefer.

I bet you're wondering what it is that's got me so riled up this time; enough to start off this latest post with an obscure story that has little to no relevance to anything apart from the fact that the Greenday of today are an absolutely turgid musical act, peddling consumer-oriented tripe like Boulevard of Broken Dreams. It beggars belief how a band that spat out such rabid albums as Kerplunk, Dookie and Nimrod could have degenerated into this horribly manufactured-sounding, made-for-radio, play-it-safe, eat-your-vitamins, say-your-prayers excuse for what once was a punk band.

Punk, you say? "As in black t-shirts and safety pins?", I hear some of you ask? And I answer, "no, pay attention!". That word scratched crudely across t-shirts worn by preppy and trendy girls with their Levi jeans, Prada or Louis Vuitton bags and odd hairstyles — all of which change with each passing season? They wouldn't know punk if it came up and bit them in the ass. Neither it would seem would a certain singer who mistakes punks for hippies!! Honestly, what self-respecting punk would have flowers in their hair?

But enough of what it isn't. What punk was — and I do mean it in the past tense because I honestly believe that punk is well and truly dead or on its last legs at the very least — was a movement, not a genre of music or a fashion statement. It stood for the anti-establishment, rebellion, wrecked-beyond-belief tape players belching out the sounds of The Clash or Sex Pistols and for once, standing dead in one's tracks with one's middle finger held high in the air to say, "No, I will not comply". Punk was never about drugs, alcohol, tattoos or torn clothes. For its part, punk certainly had its fair share of idiots who were hell-bent on ruining it for everyone else with violence, vandalism and wanton destruction. Very understandably, the scene had its detractors who branded everyone associated with the word punk as being hoodlums, louts, yobs yada yada yada. Who gives a crap? That was the romance of punk — You and me against the world, baby!

You think any of these trendy little pre-pubescent fools have a clue about that when they carefully spin the spinny thing on their iPods and press the middle button to start the whiny cribbings of Good Charlotte or Avril Lavigne and weep about how the world is so unfair, their friends don't like them and Mom and Dad just don't understand that homework sucks. That's why I said punk is dead or nearly there and from the looks of things, it ain't making a miraculous recovery anytime soon. As for the idiots who think they're punk, the less said the better.