Without the splashes of nostalgia usually associated with Green Day, the band fares like most other popular pop-punk bands of the time. Rather well. A few blemishes here, a bit of wear and tear on its sun-kissed cover and the unmistakable sight of a coffee stain, but most of us are looking worse than this. Dookie was and, in some circles, still is a force to be reckoned with. A presentation of the 1990s punk attitude at its most accessible. At its best? Not quite, but certainly at its most wide-ranging and inclusive. On the surface, it felt the most welcoming but Billie Joe Armstrong is working at his best here, an intricate and challenging collection of lyrics delivered in a style which does its best to disguise those flourishes of well-meaning and heartfelt moments. Such is the way of pop punk in the 1990s.
In the contemporary killing fields, Dookie still sounds good. For those who are not enchanted by the sound of the pop-punk times, Dookie will do little to convince you. It is a decent noise and fitting for the lyrics but not quite standout unless you spent your youth with this and not The Hoosiers. Still, there are joys to be had with this piece of work, the likes of Chump are loud and boisterous enough to elevate themselves out of the traditional guitar noise of the genre. It is the explosive pairing of percussion and guitar which structures Dookie so well in these early moments. Chump into Longview is excellent, unnoticeable instrumental work which gets the songs blurred and makes for one of Dookie’s finest moments. Of its many charming moments, Dookie works best in short bursts. Those two-minute tracks from Armstrong and the gang are a perfect consistency.
Because if it were any longer there is a worry that Dookie would be too overbearing. Its instrumental works, while fun, are rather hard to differentiate. Tempo alone is the real guidance, the tone taken by Armstrong on vocal duties decides whether the song is an amped-up thrill ride or a love-in like Pulling Teeth. You would be hard-pressed to disengage with the punk tones heard throughout and yet they never quite make a move towards anything monumental or genre-defining. Strip back the nostalgia and what lay in place is some relatively solid guitar work without the additional edge of electric fury. All by Myself is a clear look into how the band suffers when not backed by a bulky noise. But when it is part of an extra track, a little slice of F.O.D., it is hard to be bothered by it too much.
And therein lies the problem. Dookie should be a constant source of interest. A powerhouse in the making and a firm line of raw energy its whole way through. There are ways of articulating such a feeling in the softer moments, the calmer flourishes of a band building up to some big move. Dookie is a fun listen and the nostalgia which pulls it into those all-time great lists has some weight behind it, but there are plenty of short filler spots on the Armstrong-led album. Pop punk has lived off the back of Dookie and American Idiot for some time. It is easy to hear why, but it is still harder, thirty years on, to understand why it sticks around as a pinnacle. It is likely because those to follow in the Dookie footsteps are influenced by this piece of work, and in turn, nothing can overcome the massive weight of Green Day’s influence.
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