If you were a band running short on ideas, at the end of a long career mining pretty much the same three chords album after album, would you A) work out what made you great, distil it into one high energy, 40 minute album of nuthin’ but hits, then call it a day, or, B) dither, flail, vacillate, get pissed, then drunkenly decide that YOU STILL GOT IT! Single albums are for WIMPS! What the world needs is THREE FRICKIN ALBUMS! Of the SAME SONGS! CAUSE YOU ROCK! HELL YEAH!
Guess which option Green Day chose. Tre, the final, lumbering grunt of Green Day’s wearying album trilogy is an unfortunately predictable listen. From opener Brutal Love – a kind of red necked reimagining of REM’s Everybody Hurt’s, to the Eddie Cochran knock off Sex, Drugs and Violence (oh yeah. They called it that. Kerrrazy.) – Tre is a whole lot of other people’s songs, made not as good.
I guess there are probably some good bits on the album, but, honestly, after listening to two previous albums of basically the same songs played in slightly different order, it’s just too bloody hard to pick them out. I have total Green Day fatigue. OK, at a push Dirty Rotten Bastards thrashes along well enough, and the Clash aping 99 Revolutions has got a chorus that gets stuck in your head, like a particularly wilful bit of gum.
Outside of that, Tre passes in a vaguely annoying blur. Somewhere out there, there’s a dedicated Green Day fan who’ll spend the hours needed to curate a decent album from the flabby splurge of Uno, Dos, Tre, till then this is just so much chewy mulch. 5/10