I was lucky enough to go to four shows on the European leg of the Saviors Tour: Lyon, the Isle of Wight Festival, Glasgow and Wembley. They were all incredible gigs and, of course, emotional experiences because I was once a 12 year-old kid watching Bullet in a Bible, wondering if I'd ever see Green Day live, and I actually got to hear the album that got me into them in full. So I had to write a recap of at least a few of them!

Nearly five years had passed since I last saw Green Day when I impulsively decided to go to Lyon. I only had a ticket to Wembley at first, and I might not have bought that if Nothing But Thieves weren't supporting because I'm really not into stadiums. Checking Green Day's tour dates when a client cancelled on me was more of a reflex action than a burning desire to see them. I looked at the Lyon show because it was an arena, there were resale tickets for €90 and France isn't far. I found a £30 flight. Anyone who knew me on the RevRad Tour will probably find this hard to believe, but I was actually worried I'd regret it after I bought the ticket and even more so when I tried and failed to sleep on the floor at Luton Airport.

I arrived in Lyon the morning before the show, did a bit of sightseeing, spent a while reading by the river and tried and failed – again – to have a nap at my hostel before meeting another fan from GDC for dinner. We enjoyed some crêpes and planned to take one of the first train to the LDLC Arena the next day. I thought I had to sleep well at this point, but I only slept on and off for a few hours before my alarm went off at 5AM. We arrived at the LDLC Arena at about 6:45AM and were fifth and sixth in line behind some Italian fans and another Brit.



There were also two people in the VIP line already. This was the first non-festival show, so we had no idea what to expect about the VIPs who'd get early entry. Would they fill the entire barrier? It wasn't a problem on the RevRad Tour when there were 200, but we had no idea how many there were this time. Ironically, the VIP line grew faster than the peasant one.



The peasant queue began to grow by 10AM. The French fans behind us brought a fabulous replica of Billie Joe's guitar Blue and a whole pile of croissants to share with everyone. The lovely people from Green Day France brought water.



We enjoyed singing together despite forgetting the lyrics to When I Come Around and 409 in Your Coffeemaker. Listen to us at your own risk.



There were fans from all over France, another Brit and a Venezuelan fan who drove through the night from Italy to arrive early. My only other experience of queuing in France was the Camembert Incident, in which the queue was so cramped that my mum was splayed over a tipping barrier with a bottle of red wine and half-eaten camembert in her face. So I expected a magical cupboard to open in the sky and pelt us with garlic and camembert all day, but there was actually a wonderful sense of community that made the day fun.



Of course, everything went to shit when doors opened and I was so tired that a snail would have got to the barrier faster, but thankfully I was able to squeeze in. We were between Mike and the screen. There were a lot of VIPs – at least 100 more than there were on the RevRad Tour – so I was relieved to be on the front row at all. I still didn't feel like I was about to see Green Day. It was a boiling hot day, so I wanted to conserve my energy for them, but I couldn't help dancing and singing to The Interrupters' set.

And then we waited.

The crowd sang along to Bohemian Rhapsody. The Drunk Bunny staggered on stage to Blitzkrieg Bop. It slowly began to sink in that I really was about to see Green Day for the first time in five years. The screens showed photos and art from the most iconic moments in Green Day's career to the tune of a dramatic combination of the Imperial March, Blitzkrieg Bop and We Will Rock You. The excitement finally hit me. And then they ran onstage. As always, the crowd roared when Billie simply raised his arms. They roared even louder when he yelled ‘Lyon!’ On my right side was the Venezuelan fan who drove from Italy. It was his first Green Day show and his excitement was infectious. He was radiating pure joy – and Mike noticed right away and grinned and nodded to him! It’s hard to recapture the feeling that hits you at your first ever show, but for the first time since my first show in Birmingham in 2009, I felt the full force of the wonder that hits you when your favourite band take the stage.

The American Dream Is Killing Me sounded incredible. It was the perfect opener. All 16,000 people in the arena seemed to be clapping in flawless synchrony. When I looked back as the band burst into Burnout, it looked like all 16,000 people were jumping too.

‘Lyon! Vive la France!’ Billie yelled, ‘This is the 30 year anniversary of Dookie! We’re gonna play this all the way through! Are you ready?! Let’s go crazy!’

I was lucky enough to hear Dookie in full at Brixton Academy in 2013, so I wasn’t as excited as I was for American Idiot, but I loved hearing that whole album in Lyon. I felt every word I once sang sitting at my computer as a teenager with my Canada 3000 headphones from the charity shop.



You know I expected the magical camembert cupboard and I did see a few people pulled out in the centre, but I had clear air behind me. Despite that, whenever I looked back, all I saw was a sea of smiling people of all ages, from all walks of life, jumping and screaming the lyrics. They were going mad, but they were too wrapped up in the show to be punching people or trying to wrench them off the barrier. The rumble of all those people clapping was so loud you could feel it in your chest. I’m not sure I’ve experienced such an incredible atmosphere anywhere else. It was exactly what ‘punk’ should be.

‘Thank you, goodnight!’ Billie said after In the End to boos, promptly adding, ‘Just kidding! It’s Green Day. We’re on our Eras Tour right now.’

All By Myself was exactly as weird as I expected. Tré wore a shiny red cape to prance around the stage and sang ‘j’étais tout seul.’



Back at the drum kit, he began the thumping intro to Know Your Enemy. It’s not the most popular song on the setlist, but I love that song – on the release day, I played it on repeat until I could still hear it after I switched it off – and it’s the perfect opportunity for fans to get on stage because it’s quick and easy. The fan who got onstage in Lyon was one of the VIPs who queued early. She had a sign saying she was so many months sober that made Billie smile.

I was excited to hear Look Ma, No Brains and it was as energetic as I hoped. Then they played One Eyed Bastard! They hadn’t played it at the festival shows prior, so I wasn’t expecting it. My squealing would’ve made the 12 year-old with her Canada 3000 headphones proud. I love that song. I wore myself out jumping and waving. I’m not a massive fan of Dilemma, but I didn’t care because even that sounded fantastic and wow, the sense of unity when we were all waving along together. Mike was in such a good mood, grinning, pointing at countless people and thumping his heart.



‘It’s pride month, everybody,’ Billie announced as he played the intro to Bobby Sox. I must make another #fakefan confession: I really didn’t like that song when I first heard it. I knew the lyrics not because I’d been willingly listening to it, but because my girlfriend wouldn’t stop singing it and… well, it turns out I need to thank her for that, because I absolutely loved jumping and singing along to it. I can’t stop listening to it now. When I look back on this show, the first thing that comes to mind is that incredible performance of Bobby Sox.

I wasn’t expecting Brain Stew, either, since I don’t think it was played at the shows prior. It was fun to sing, jump and echo ‘HEY! HEY! HEY!’ Billie cackled to illustrate ‘the clock is laughing in my face.’

And then came the moment that was probably the most anticipated: the first chords of American Idiot.

I’ve heard that song live many times. Although I love it, I wouldn’t say it’s one of my favourite Green Day songs or that any other performance stood out to me. Something was different that night. I was 12 years old again, causing my mum to miss a coelacanth on Animal Crossing when I rushed into the living room, waving my drumsticks and proclaiming that we had to see Green Day live one day after watching a video of them performing American Idiot.

They’re so good live!’ I gushed, ‘Even better than they are on the album! Tré is the best drummer in the world!’

So the first album my mum bought me was Bullet in a Bible. I often watched it when I got home from school, wondering if I’d ever see such a thing live. It seemed unlikely.

But 17 years later, I was hearing that song live on the front row in Lyon, France and it was everything I ever dreamed of and more. It was an affirmation of my survival for 29 year-old me, but I was also 12 year-old me that day, hardly able to believe my ears and eyes. Bobby Sox stood out most, but American Idiot is my most precious memory, not because I relate to it or because it was ever my most inspiring anthem, but because it represented all the joy my favourite band has brought me since I first heard Boulevard of Broken Dreams after seeing the lyrics on a Piczo site.



Speaking of Boulevard of Broken Dreams, I obviously love that song since it’s the one that got me into Green Day, but that’s why I’ve overplayed it to the point that I only listen to the American Idiot musical version now. Yet hearing the intro as it’s played on the original album – on Bullet in a Bible, too – stirred something in me that I thought I’d killed by overplaying it. All at once, I felt every moment that song had ever resonated with me in the past and yet again, I was 12 year-old me, listening to the voices echoing the lyrics back at Billie in Milton Keynes; except 12 year-old me was screaming because she wasn’t listening to someone else’s voice. It was her voice, along with 15,999 others in Lyon, waving our phones and lighters so wherever we looked there was a sea of stars.

Even the security guard in front of us was a secret fanboy. He couldn't help touching his heart and putting his hands on his cheeks in disbelief during Are We the Waiting.

Strangely, so many of my favourite moments were songs I'd heard live many times before. I expected to melt down over Homecoming, which was obviously incredible, but there I was losing it to She and Letterbomb. I’ve certainly related to Letterbomb – many of us have been Whatsername screaming ‘I’m leaving you tonight,’ and most emo teenagers probably related to ‘this city’s burning, it’s not my burden’ – but I don’t think that was why it was special to me in Lyon. It was the same thing that came over me during American Idiot and Boulevard – that it represented the sense of love and gratitude for everything Green Day is, for all the joy they’ve brought me and the ecstatic disbelief that I was really seeing them live, even after all these years.

It was equally unbelievable that I still had the energy to jump during Minority after so little sleep, but I suppose that’s the Green Day effect. As confetti rained down, I knew this incredible night was coming to an end and I’m sure my heart wasn’t the only one glowing and aching in equal measure. It was impossible to imagine why I was worried as I laid on the floor at Luton Airport. I wanted to scream ’thank you, Green Day!’ at the top of my lungs… and I also wanted to buy a ticket to the Glasgow show ASAP.



The show was unlike any I’d seen before. It was so streamlined that when my mum said there were 37 songs on the setlist, I told her they didn’t play them all – but they did! There was a lot less interaction with the crowd than usual and I’m not just talking about 12 hours of Hitchin’ a Ride or 500 hey-ohs (both of which I love, by the way). They raced through the two albums so fast that Billie hardly had time to walk around when usually, he’s all over the place. It wasn’t a bad thing at all – no-one could say anything remotely negative about that show – it was just so different.

Walking back to the tram stop, we saw several people we queued with. Everyone was sweaty and exhausted but happy. They hugged people they’d known for less than 12 hours like they were lifelong friends. The next day, I met a girl in the hostel bathroom who’d seen Taylor Swift in Lyon but wished she’d gone to Green Day instead. Before the show, I’d have said I’d rather see Taylor Swift, but I’m not sure I can say that anymore. Green Day were worth every penny I should’ve spent fixing my car. Can’t believe Billie saw Tay Tay and I didn’t, though.

I dithered over the Glasgow ticket when I got home. Did I really need to buy a £250 VIP ticket to get a good spot, or would GA do? Then I was offered a free ticket to the Isle of Wight Festival. I’d wanted to go since it was announced because I wanted to see McFly and Nothing But Thieves, but I wrote it off because it was an expensive logistical nightmare… but now I really wanted to see Green Day again and I couldn’t resist the free ticket. So I got a Megabus to Portsmouth and a ferry to the Isle of Wight. And since it was possible to get to Glasgow in time for the show, I bought my Glasgow VIP ticket with Klarna.

The weather forecast for Glasgow threatened rain, but it was a warm, sunny day at Seaclose Park. There was a row of people on the barrier, many wearing Green Day shirts, when I arrived. The McFly fans in front of me said they’d be leaving after their set, but I actually had a great view even from the second row anyway. I knew nothing about Beverley Knight but she was absolutely fabulous. Picture This were great, too. I was reminded of my age when I only knew two of the songs McFly played despite wanting to see them, but I enjoyed their set and the atmosphere too – everyone went crazy. Tom was wearing a Green Day shirt. Once their set ended, the McFly fans kept their word and let me in. I wouldn’t have been upset about the second row spot, but this one was incredible – the best spot I’d ever had at Green Day, actually – in Mike’s corner of the catwalk. And I got that spot in time for Nothing But Thieves! They were so good. Even better than I expected. I screamed like a 12 year-old (again) when they played Tomorrow is Closed.

All I knew about Simple Minds was that my mum saw them in Lausanne in 1984 and Jim Kerr was so pissed off that it wasn’t sold out that he spent the whole show spitting at the front row. Fortunately, enough people were excited about them to prevent an Oh Spit experience, but I’m glad they actually wanted them, because I did not. Every song went on forever, unnecessarily, while Jimbo waggled his hips and spun the microphone around. The drummer and female singer were great, though, despite Jimbo’s cringe-inducing proclamation of ‘and that’s what we call girrrrrrrl powerrrrrr!’ Anyway, there was only one shit band and surviving them made it even more exciting when Green Day’s name appeared on the screen.

Shoutout to the security for making sure we all stayed hydrated, by the way. They were passing trays of cups as far back as possible.



This time, I actually felt like I was about to see Green Day and I knew it was going to be incredible. The Drunk Bunny staggered off and the screens we’d been staring at between bands finally lit up with the photos and art. The faces of the determined fans who stood on the barrier all day lit up. And then thousands of screams drowned out the intro theme as the band ran on stage.

‘Isle of Wight!’ Billie roared to tumultuous applause, and at his command all those thousands of voices echoed ‘whoa-oh-oh-oh!’

There really is something special about finally seeing the band you’re there for at a festival. Wherever I looked, it was obvious other fans felt the same way. It was one of the hotter days of the year and we’d been standing there for nine hours, but from the first chords we all knew Green Day would be worth it. Everyone clapped along, abruptly stopping during the bridge and starting straight back up again. I could appreciate The American Dream Is Killing Me even more at this show. Best opener since 99 Revolutions.



The crowd was almost as loud as Billie as he sang the opening lines of Basket Case. Everyone around me was jumping, dancing and waving. We didn’t need to be told to go crazy. Considering the chant of ‘hey, hey, hey’ to the tune of Longview and the volume of the echo of ‘I’m sick of all the same old shit,’ we didn’t need to be asked to sing along, either. I was on TV dancing to Welcome to Paradise.

‘The first time we played Welcome to Paradise… well, I think it was December 17th, 1991,’ Billie said after playing the song, ‘And that was in Southampton! You can dance, you can sing, you can do whatever the fuck you want right now, but we’re gonna have a great fucking time tonight, Isle of Wight!’

Before When I Come Around, Billie played the opening of Ziggy Stardust. He replaced ‘make sure you do it wise’ with ‘hey, on guitar, it’s the Isle of Jason White!’ And then he started singing ‘you may find out that your…’ only to interrupt himself with ‘I was just waiting to say that all day.’

We knew there wouldn’t be time for them to play Dookie and American Idiot, but they played all the singles from Dookie and In the End. Everything sounded great. The band were on fire. Then it was straight into Know Your Enemy. A girl who’d waited all day got on stage. Billie had us chanting her name: ‘Molly! Molly! Molly!’ Everyone clapped along to Look Ma as if they knew it as well as the Dookie singles. I didn’t know if they’d play One Eyed Bastard at a festival, so I was thrilled when they played it again. The crowd was already roaring ‘hey-oh’ before Billie asked them to. Whenever he stopped singing, they were clapping or singing ‘whoa-oh’ along to the tune. The screens showed people jumping all the way to the back in Minority. Once again, he didn’t need to ask us to echo ‘hey’ to Brain Stew. He kept saying England does it best and I can’t disagree.



The loudest response of all must have been during title track of American Idiot. It seemed like every single person in Seaclose Park was screaming the lyrics back at the band. ‘For that’s enough to argue because this is England!’ Billie yelled. When everyone was chanting ‘hey, hey, hey’ until Billie asked us to ‘hey-oh’ instead, I might have been back in the living room after school, hearing the crowd at Milton Keynes chant just like that on Bullet in a Bible, but I wasn’t watching it on TV. I was there. One of the voices on someone else’s TV was mine.

Many fans have described their journeys with Green Day coming ‘full circle’ when they heard American Idiot live. I don’t think there could have been a more ‘full circle’ moment than Holiday at the Isle of Wight Festival for me. In Rolling Stone in 2020, Billie Joe said, ‘This song was just about trying to find your own voice and your own individuality and questioning everything that you see on television, in politics, school, family, and religion.’

That was exactly what Holiday meant to me as a teenager. It inspired me to question what I was told, to stand up for myself and to accept myself as I am as every day at school, I heard every racist insult imaginable – terrorist, sand [n-word], P*ki, gorilla, towelhead, Bin Laden, whatever. I was constantly told to ‘go back to where you came from.’ Any terrible act committed by anyone who looked like me was my fault. My mum is 100% British and I’ve always had a British passport, but I felt like a fraud when I called myself English. I was sure I’d never belong or be welcome. Yet I felt far too English to be anything else. I didn’t even speak another language.

I often played the Holiday bridge over and over – especially the Bullet in a Bible version in which Billie sings ‘the representative of the United Kingdom now has the floor’ – because I loved it so much. It made me feel so empowered.

And in that bridge I loved so much, after proclaiming ‘the representative of England now has the floor,’ Billie Joe reached out to take my flag.


Photo: Sky Arts

On national television, in front of all those thousands of people, the man who inspired me to question all I was told held up my English flag as he sang ‘trials by fire, setting fires, is not a way that’s meant for me.’ He tied it around himself, draped it over his head and held it up again before making sure I got it back. And as the song ended, he exclaimed, ‘this is England!’


Photo: Sky Arts

That fusty old flag has been going to shows with me for 14 years. Truly believing that it’s my flag has taken a long time, though, and it was only appropriate that I was the one to give it to my favourite band once I truly believed it. It was something so simple, but so meaningful to little old me.


Photos: @welcometoparadisephotos

And to then hear all of American Idiot except Extraordinary Girl? I relived everything that album had ever meant to me in the most incredible, full circle way possible. It was special to hear Boulevard of Broken Dreams exactly as it’s played on the album in Lyon, but this time I was in England. In the acoustic part, the crowd started singing the lyrics and ‘ah-ah’ part before Billie. He smiled and joined in.

‘This is the end of the line right now!’ he yelled in Letterbomb, ‘You gotta get loud right now! Because this is about love! This is about joy! This is not a fucking party! This is a celebration!’

I was impressed by how many people knew the lyrics to Letterbomb. It’s still one of my favourite Green Day songs, and hearing all those thousands of voices singing it was practically a spiritual experience.

Holiday aside, Homecoming was the highlight. Back when Holiday was my anthem, I wanted nothing more than to run to a bigger, better place that might feel more like home, but I’m not a disillusioned teenager dreaming of burning down my hometown anymore. England is my home and I’m glad. There are still awful people here, but as we’ve learned from the recent counter-protests, there are also many, many wonderful people. We’re all lucky to live in a privileged country. So with the jaded eagerness of Johnny returning to Jingletown after the bigger, better place wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, I smiled and clung to that flag as I sang, ‘home, we’re coming home again,’ along with all those thousands of other people of all shapes and sizes and from all walks of life. I will never forget how that felt. I’m sure many of the other people there could tell their own stories about how their hearts glowed as Homecoming concluded, and I doubt I was the only one watching the band play Whatsername with tears in my eyes. People started chanting after it ended, prompting Billie to exclaim, ‘Ah, we’re not done yet! We’re gonna play ‘til they pull the fuckin’ plug. Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you everyone that puts on Isle of Wight. Thank you everybody out here. It’s been an unbelievable weekend. I’m telling you right now, England knows how to do this shit, that’s for sure. And I’m going home and I’m telling everybody, “you better get your shit together!”’

I was completely sold on Bobby Sox after hearing it there. I knew they weren’t really going to play ‘until they pull the plug’ and the bittersweet feeling of knowing the show was about to end began to set in, but when it seemed like every single person there chanted ‘one more song’ so loudly, for so long after Good Riddance, I wondered if they actually might play another song. It was a while until the dimmed lights were switched back on, but of course they were. Of course they didn’t play one more song. Still, what a wonderful conclusion it was to hear everyone wishing they’d play another song, even after that long day.



I grabbed as much confetti as I could carry. I brought a whole bag of it home from Lyon only to find it was plain, but this stuff actually had the art on it. I sent some to fans who couldn’t get any confetti after the tour ended and one of them is now sending me something his fiancee made, which is a nice example of the whole ‘love and joy’ thing.

This show was very different to the Lyon one. It seemed less scripted and Billie interacted with the crowd more. That said, I couldn't choose a favourite of the two. They were just different. Also, whilst Billie interacted more, Mike hardly interacted at all.


Photo: Glasgow Times

A lot of people assume that only rich, casual fans buy VIP tickets. Myself included – I wondered if I’d be surrounded by people who only knew Boulevard of Broken Dreams, but it was actually the opposite. I already knew most of the VIPs at the front of the queue in Glasgow as devoted, working-class fans who’d been going to Green Day shows for years. Many took out loans or used savings to buy their tickets and chose to go to a few shows as VIPs, rather than lots as GA. It was actually heartwarming to hear all the stories of why people bought those tickets because it showed how much Green Day mean to their fans. Most impressively of all, the first fan in the VIP queue actually camped out from 11PM the day before with just a duvet!


Photo: Glasgow Times

We received our bags of what I must admit was very tacky merch from a stall before we were led inside, where we were held for what felt like forever. All of us only bought the VIP tickets for early entry, but the GA ticketholders behind us were let in at the same time as the last people in the VIP queue. The venue staff managed to stop me running, but others sprinted past. The disabled VIPs who bought the tickets because they could stand, but couldn’t run, were overtaken by VIPs who arrived later and even people in the GA queue. The pit was split in half and Jason’s side was already full of GA ticketholders from the other side of the park. Incredibly fortunately, I got the spot I wanted anyway, but that was definitely not a ‘VIP experience.’

The rain that had held off all day started during Maid of Ace’s set. I actually left my hoodie on. Didn’t even got hot enough to take it off when I was one of the ‘about four people here’ going mad to Nothing But Thieves. I thought the crowd would surge forward and become an oven as soon as Bohemian Rhapsody started, but it never did, so the hoodie stayed on. First time ever. The rain stopped for Green Day. I won’t make the ‘God’s favourite band’ joke.

Anyone who was at Bellahouston Park in 2017 will remember ‘adverse weather conditions.’ In short, the production company didn’t get the place ready in time and blamed it on the weather, so the show was cancelled. Things generally do not go well for me in Glasgow. I was ecstatic and relieved when the band ran onstage to raucous applause. Redemption! I was so happy to be there, to be seeing them again that I think The American Dream Is Killing Me had to be the highlight. I’ve seen some fans saying this crowd was dead, but where I was, everyone was singing, jumping and clapping to everything from The American Dream to Pulling Teeth. Before playing Basket Case, Billie said, ‘This next song we wrote when we were in Glasgow!’ I didn’t know that. In the instrumental part, he turned, found himself looking directly at me and stuck his tongue out.



Every member of the band seemed to be in a good mood. Mike was as interactive as he was in Lyon. We can always say Green Day are on fire, but they really were that night. While Tré sang All By Myself, Billie held up the Scottish flag at the side of the stage and secured it as his cape. And as Dookie concluded, I knew this was going to be my favourite show of the tour, although only by a small margin because the others were so good.



There was so much joy radiating from Billie and the fan who got onstage to sing Know Your Enemy.



One Eyed Bastard was another highlight. I love that song and that was the best performance I heard.



A fan held up a sign saying he could play Dilemma. Billie spotted it and asked if he swore to God he really could – then he actually brought him onstage! He was fantastic and it was lovely because it was so unexpected. After the song ended, Billie got down on his knees and bowed.



Hearing American Idiot in full again as the sun set was surreal. There was never a time when I heard those opening chords and didn’t think of my 12 year-old self watching Bullet in a Bible.



I wondered if this set might get old if I kept hearing it, but it was as magical as it was in Lyon to hear all those thousands of voices, knowing each one has its own unique story of what that album means to them, yet they were all united as one – and equally magical to know that one of the voices was my own. Around me, everyone was still going crazy.



The first time I ever heard Whatsername on radio.blog.club, I cried because the song painted such a beautiful picture that I could feel the pain of lost love, even though my only lost loves at 12 were Shadow the Hedgehog and Rocket Racer the Lego man. I could tell another story about my real Whatsername, but I don’t think I need to. Everyone knows that feeling by the time they’ve grown up, whether their Whatsername is a lost love, a friend or an opportunity. I nearly cried hearing it at the Isle of Wight, but this time I was already crying when Homecoming ended and there were tears streaming down my face as I found myself singing, ‘I disappeared without a trace, but I never married old Whatshisface’ and ‘I ran away and then you took a different path.’ Although the band had already performed Whatsername countless times on the European leg of the tour, Billie still delivered his lines with all the passion of performing such an emotional song for the first time; eyes screwed up and squeezed shut when he sang, ‘and in the darkest night, if my memory serves me right, I’ll never turn back time.’


Screenshots from this video

One of Green Day’s security guards started slapping me when I cried on the RevRad Tour and I definitely would’ve got a slap in Glasgow if he was still around, because I was bloody sobbing by Good Riddance. Sometimes it feels natural that a show is ending and you just accept it. I really didn’t want to believe it that night. As exhausted as I was, I would’ve stood there another 12 hours in whatever weather if they’d kept playing.

As Good Riddance concluded, Tré crawled between Billie’s legs and Billie yelled ‘Trillie is real!’ I cannot believe he actually knows what Trillie is. And then it was over. The verdict was in: Glasgow was definitely my favourite show of the tour. I stuffed even more confetti in my bag, although some of it turned out to be grass, twigs and a squashed cup.

On the way to the train station the next day, the radio was on in a shop and I heard the presenter saying, ‘so, you know what was the biggest gig of the year in Scotland? No, it wasn't Taylor Swift. It was Green Day!’ They were gushing about how great it was.

This is without a doubt an incredible tour. American Idiot is the album that got me into Green Day, so of course that was the most emotional part of the set for me, but Dookie in full is incredible too. So are the Saviors tracks. If you can go but you’re not sure if you should – go!

I often conclude my recaps with lyrics that could sum them up, and I didn’t even have to think about which lyrics would fit this one: ‘Home, we’re coming home again. I started fucking running as soon as my feet touched ground.’

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