Welcome to Paradise: A Billie Joe Armstrong Biography
It was a cool December evening at Madison Square Garden in New York City. A crowd gathered to see a new, up-and-coming band
called Green Day. The arena was packed with punk teens spurting red, green, and blue Mohawks to match their pierced lips
and ripped jeans. Other kids wore preppy, striped shirts or basketball jerseys. Either way, the crowd was unusually diverse.
A long line of people stood at the gate outside the stadium just waiting to get in to see Green Day perform.
Billie Joe stood anxiously in the right wing backstage with his guitar named Blue. He watched the young queercore punk quartet,
Pansy Division, finish their encore set from his position.
"Underneath they may be deep," cried Pansy Division lead singer Jon Ginoli into the microphone, "but I have met so many creeps
in fluffy city!" The crowd screamed at the final chords of their set. Applause showered throughout the stadium.
"Holy shit," Billie Joe mused to himself peering out over the audience. There was a sea of color--old and young; punks and
jocks alike were all waiting to watch him put on a show for them.
"Time to start, Mr. Armstrong," said a burly stage crewman, "You're on in five."
Billie Joe nodded understandingly at him. He held tight to his lucky charm--his beloved Blue. Only months ago, he was still
playing small club shows for crowds of one-hundred punks in his hometown for meager sums of money and food. He lived around
and about the broken streets in Bay Area, California. Now, he was a budding rock n' roll icon, he was up for a Grammy nomination
with his latest album called 'Dookie,' and he was about to become a parent since his loving wife, Adrienne was five months
pregnant.
Nirvana's Smells Like Teen Spirit blasted through the arena's intercom as the crew team set up for Green Day. That particular
song sent a shiver down Billie Joe's spine. Had it not been for Kurt Cobain's death, his band may not have been as popular
as it was. He was a little nervous to be taking Cobain's spot as leader in mainstream rock music.
He sighed heavily. His mind raced away as Cobain sang about teenage angst; he saw memories flash by him as he listened to
the scratchy song over the intercom . . . .
February 17, 1972:
Rodeo, California--a small suburban town in the Bay Area of California. This town was segregated between the new and the
old. The newer part of town looked just like typical suburbia: middle class houses, green lawns, and urbanized shopping malls.
However, as one crossed into the old section of Rodeo, it was easy to spot socioeconomic differences between the two settings.
Dusty, deserted baseball fields were patched around in various clearings. Old family run shops were boarded up. Three giant
smoke stacks from an oil refinery were located only a mile down the road from this side of town. Pollution hovered in the
air making the sun hang low in the mid-winter sky.
A few miles in a hospital not far from Rodeo, a baby was born in the early evening on February 17, 1972. Ollie Armstrong
had given birth to her sixth child. Her husband Andy was pleased to find out that it was a boy. They named him Billie Joe.
A few days later, Andy drove his wife and baby home to their ranch in the old part of Rodeo, California. Billie's five older
siblings were gathered to see him. They all took turns holding their new baby brother. Little did they know that in only
twenty-two years, this boy would turn into an international rockstar.
Entering the Musical World, 1977:
Billie was five years old. Both of his parents loved music. His mom often sang to country songs as she did house work and
his father was a part time jazz drummer after his shift at the trucking company was done. Andy Armstrong wanted his son to
share this love for music, so he called an acquaintance named Marie Fiatarone to see if she would be willing to give his kids
music lessons. Billie Joe was most eager out of all of his siblings to take these lessons. He secretly loved to pound on
his fathers drums and he enjoyed singing along to Beatles songs on the radio.
One day, Ollie drove Billie, his brother David, and his sister Anna to a small country home close to them for their first
music lessons with Marie. Marie greeted them at her house with a bright smile. She was an elderly woman of around sixty-five
years with long dark hair and tan skin. She led the family into her home and suggested that the three kids should sing for
her in her back room while her husband, Jim played the acoustic guitar to check their pitch and musical ability.
Jim was also in his mid-sixties. He was a tall, thin man with glasses and a balding head. He gave little Billie a high five
when it was his turn to sing.
"What's your name, little fellow?" he asked him pleasantly.
"Billie Joe . . . and I'm five!" he said with enthusiasm.
Jim joked with little Billie, "You don't say? Ha, you really look like you belong in show-biz, kid. You look just like the
young Donny Osmond--you know who that is?"
"Nope," Billie Joe shook his thick head of curly dark hair, "but my daddy's in show-whatever. He plays the drums for this
one band, and he's amazing!"
Jim laughed, "You're bound to be a star someday . . . well, let's see what you've got."
The Fiatarone's had Billie Joe sing He's Got the Whole World In His Hands for them. They were astounded by his vocal ability.
His brother and sister had nice, pleasant tones, as well; however, Billie's voice was a little different. He had charisma
and pep. Marie pulled Ollie aside when all of her children finished showcasing their voices to her.
"Your children all sing very well," she said to her, "but your one son, Billie? He's incredible! He sang right on pitch
and moved with this song that he'd never heard before. And he's only five years old, too. Do you think it would be ok if
we took him up to Fantasy Studios in Berkeley to record this one song that Jim wrote? Billie's voice is just perfect for
that song."
Ollie wasn't sure at first. She didn't want her son to get into anything over his head. Marie compromised with Ollie. She
would cut the costs of her children's music lessons if Ollie let Billie Joe record with Jim. Ollie agreed. In no time, Billie
Joe recorded his first song called Look For Love which only sold around 800 copies. Yet for a little kid, that wasn't too
shabby. He was featured in his local newspaper and was a big act at a number of nursing homes in his area. He had become
a local star. Billie Joe's life seemed perfect until 1982 changed his life forever.
The Innocent Can Never Last, 1982:
The rain fell hard on the Armstrong household one night in May, 1982. The family had gathered for dinner at seven o' clock
as soon as Andy arrived home from his hospital checkup. Lately, he'd been feeling a little under the weather, which was unusual
for he was normally a very strong man. Ollie prepared leftover meatloaf and broccoli for dinner that night. They all ate
silently until Ollie decided to ask the dreaded question that was lingering on all of their minds.
"So," she said with pursed lips, "how were the hospital tests?"
Andy was stiff. He didn't look up from his scarcely touched plate of food and he sighed, "I don't know, Ollie." He paused
to take a sip of water, but he began to choke a bit as it went down. His voice had a hint of remorse, "But Mr. Wallis said
. . . well, the prognosis wasn't good . . . I think I may be dying."
The whole family froze in a state of shock. Billie Joe sat at the farthest end of the rectangular table. He couldn't comprehend
what his father had said. Or at least, he pretended he had never said it. He went on eating his meatloaf. His sister Anna
teared up and walked out of the kitchen. David got up from his chair, shoved it in, and left the room in a rage. Billie
then sat alone at the table across from his father as his mom picked up the half-eaten plates. Andy got up resistantly from
his chair.
"Where are you going, dad?" asked ten year old Armstrong, confused.
"To bed, son. Finish your supper," and the fifty-one year old man left for his room.
Billie stayed in the kitchen, still stuck in his chair. He watched as his mom cleaned the plates by hand furiously scrubbing
away. Ollie was on the verge of a breakdown. Billie Joe felt helpless watching his mother, so he retreated to the music
room. Just that past Christmas, his father let Billie quit his singing lessons and move on to guitar. He bought him a bright
red guitar. Billie picked up the cherished instrument and began to strum the few chords he'd learned since that December.
He blocked out his mother crying in the other room.
Three months later, Andy was hospitalized. The family tried to visit him twice a week. It was extremely hard for Billie
Joe to watch his father fade away in his hospital bed as the esophageal cancer gradually took over his life. The Armstrong's
realized that there was no hope for Andy.
Right before his death, Andy had a final request for his eldest dependent son, David: "Make sure that you take care of Billie
Joe," he told him in a hoarse voice, "since he's the youngest. I know that he's a special kid. He needs someone strong .
. . a man to look up to. I couldn't really give him that, but I want you to do your best. Watch over my family, son."
David promised his father that dying wish.
On September 1, 1982, Andy Armstrong died in his hospital bed. It was only four months after the cancer's diagnosis. The
funeral ceremony was rather brief. Billie Joe cried next to his mother as the pastor said a few words for Andy Armstrong
at the burial. After the pastor left and Ollie and her children rushed into their old station wagon, Billie stayed behind
at his father's casket for a moment. He picked up a stray purple flower, kissed it, and placed it atop the half buried casket.
Anna ushered Billie Joe to the car and they drove home. Right as he got in the house, he quickly ran to the music room to
play his little red guitar.
Fall, 1982:
It had been two months since Billie's father died; however, the atmosphere in the Armstrong household had completely changed.
Ollie Armstrong worked a full-time shift as a waitress at Rod's Hickory Pit in Pinole, California; she avoided the house as
much as possible. Billie and his siblings did all of the housework while mom was gone. It was at this point in time when
Billie Joe became really engaged with music. He began writing songs about his emotions. He would go to see a local guitar
teacher named George Cole almost every day after school. Cole acted as a sort of replacement father for Billie.
At his lessons, Billie would learn about harder rock n' roll like Van Halen. Cole taught him chord progressions and cool
guitar stances for when on-stage. Billie admired Cole's teaching, but he admired Cole's guitar, which he liked to call 'Blue'
for it's powder blue color, even more.
Ollie Armstrong saw how dedicated her son was for his music. She also knew how depressed he'd been since his father's death
a few months prior. She paid George Cole a quick visit late in November after her shift at Rod's Hickory Pit. She asked
Cole if he could possibly sell her his blue Fender Stratocaster that Billie Joe admired.
He shook his head, "I know your son is a real eager kid--he could be great someday, but I don't know if I can just sell this
guitar."
Ollie pleaded, "I'm asking a lot from you, but I know that this guitar would mean the world to my son. I've got two-hundred
and fifty right here in my pocket," she patted the pocket on her yellow waitress dress, "and I swear I'll pay you the rest
of the cost later. Billie's going through a rough time right now, since Andy died. He doesn't hang around with any kids
his age at the moment. And if you're concerned whether my son is mature enough to take care of the instrument, I'll try and
make him be cautious when practicing, too."
Cole nodded coolly, "Alright. I'll give it to you for the two-hundred and fifty dollars. Don't worry about paying anything
else. Billie is probably my strongest pupil, so I know that he can handle my Stratocaster."
Ollie then did something a bit unconventional and she hugged Mr. Cole. She paid him, grabbed the guitar in its case, and
left. On Christmas morning, Billie was the first one up. He saw the blue guitar with a bow under the tree--it was one of
his best Christmas's.
Connection to Music, 1984:
Billie Joe attended Carquinez Middle School when he was twelve years old. In the classroom, he was typically the kid who
made jokes, received detentions, and failed history quizzes. He got along with several guys, but he did not have a best friend.
That winter, he finally bonded with a blonde, gawky boy named Mike Pritchard over music. Mike was rather clumsy and he'd
tripped over Billie Joe in the cafeteria lunch line. They never actually spoke in class, so initially, Billie was angry with
Mike until he saw his Van Halen T-shirt.
"You like Van Halen?" Billie Joe asked Mike, intrigued.
"You kidding me?" asked Mike in a high pitched voice, "I love them! I went to their concert once . . . it was awesome."
The two sat next to each other at lunch discussing heavy metal and other rock bands until the bell rang. Both boys were late
to class, but it didn't matter. Over the next few years, the two maturing adolescents had sleepovers where they would practice
guitar together (Billie leading Mike), listen to hard rock like Judas Priest on MTV, and joke around. At one of their sleepovers,
Billie wrote his first 'official' song called Why Do You Want Him--a song about his frustration with his mom and her new dating
habits.
Billie Joe and Mike really enjoyed jamming together in Billie's music room. Billie Joe suggested that he and Mike should
get a few more guys to jam with them and form a weekend garage band. Billie Joe led the band with lead vocals and guitar,
Mike backed up on guitar, a kid named Sean Hughes played the bass guitar, and a classmate named Raj Punjabi played the drums.
This experimental band had different names nearly every weekend they practiced at Billie's house. One week, they would be
called Truant and the next, they were Blood Rage. The band played strictly hard rock and metal covers such as Black Sabbath
or Def Leppard. Despite the band's energy, they did not last long. They never really made it out of the garage. Nevertheless,
this tiny metal band in Billie's backyard helped him gain a sense of leadership and taught him the basics to forming a band.
He was more confident about his musical skills.
Puppies on Gilman Scene, 1986 - 1987:
With high school, there was even more change in Billie Joe Armstrong's life. When high school began, Mike Pritchard was dealing
with issues in his own family. His adoptive parents recently split up and both were moving away from the Rodeo area. Mike
did not want to leave Billie Joe and Billie was keen on starting a band with Mike, so he asked his mom if Mike could live
in their garage. Andy had turned the garage into a bedroom years ago--it was perfect for Mike.
Ollie was a little weary about this, but aside from Mike's ability to attract accidents, he was a good kid. Unlike Billie,
he had a solid GPA, the motivation to work part time jobs in various kitchens, and he had very good manners. Billie's siblings
also enjoyed Mike's company, so Ollie let him stay.
Billie and Mike never really fit into the high school scene. Billie tried out for the football team, but he didn't get much
farther than the bench. Mike was smart, but he was no chess club team member. They were total outcasts. One day at lunch,
a fellow outcast joined them at their solitary lunch table. This outcast was unlike them, however. He was tougher; he had
edge. He had spiked green hair and a tattoo on his knuckles. He was definitely an upperclassman. Billie Joe and Mike were
still scrawny, pubescent freshmen.
"Hey," said the punk to them fist bumping both Billie and Mike, "all alone?"
They both nodded glum.
The punk kid shook his head, "I don't blame you . . . I hate the stereotypes here at Pinole High. Anyway, so what are you
two boys into? You like punk rock?"
Billie shrugged, "Sort of . . . well, I used to play guitar in a metal covers band if that's punk."
The spike haired punk laughed, "You call that punk?" He then handed both Billie and Mike a flier from some club called Gilman
Street. "Ever hear of Gilman Street?" Both freshmen replied 'no.'
Then, the punk grinned, "Shit, you two are missin' out. It's Friday . . . if you two don't have anything going on tonight,
I'd be glad to take you out to Berkeley to see this one band called Isocracy . . . they're playing at Gilman tonight. My
name's Robert, by the way, but you can call me Eggplant."
Billie smiled sheepishly; he was a little intimidated by this punk, but he liked his attitude. He shook Eggplant's hand and
said that he and Mike would definitely go to this 'Gilman Street' club.
Gilman Street was located in Berkeley, California. The place was known as an all ages club for punks to scream about their
beliefs; a refuge for all social misfits to have good time. Billie Joe felt awkward at first; however, as he heard the first
band yell about how bad Reagan's policies were, he was awestruck. Mike, too, was mesmerized by the music and feel of the
scene. The two boys immersed themselves into a Bay Area punk rock lifestyle.
Billie and Mike became regulars on the scene. They would stay to watch a few bands, go out and smoke in the back of the club
with their new punk friends, and then watch the final act perform. Billie loved being a part of the crowd; however, he also
loved to play his guitar. What he wanted more than anything was to form his own band and perform at Gilman Street.
One summer day in 1987, Billie Joe approached Tim Yohannan (one of the club's owners) before a Crimpshrine show and handed
him a homemade tape recording of his and Mike's music. Billie Joe hoped that if Tim approved, he and Mike could get an opening
slot to a Gilman Street show. He watched Yohannan eagerly as he listened to 'Why Do You Want Him' on a portable tape player.
Tim shook his head and sighed as he removed the headphones at the end of the song, "I'm sorry, but this just isn't punk enough."
Tim handed a disappointed Billie his tape back, "It's good stuff, but it just wouldn't fit on this scene. The lyrics are
all about teenaged love and the music is too upbeat. You boys are still welcome to help out at the venue, but until you've
got a drummer and harder stuff, I can't book your act."
Billie Joe bit his lip, "That's fine. Thanks for listening." And he walked over to Mike to discuss what they needed to do.
Their consensus was that Sweet Children was in dire need of a drummer. The two teenaged boys set out on a quest to find a
drummer who could give Sweet Children more of a punk edge.
After a year of lingering around the Bay Area punk scene, a band called Isocracy was performing a set up at Gilman Street.
Bolstered by weed and a bit of confidence from Mike, Billie Joe went up after Isocracy's show and asked their drummer, John
Kiffemeyer, if he would be willing to join Sweet Children as a side project. Luckily for Billie, John agreed after Billie
helped Isocracy put away their gear.
The new trio began to practice on a daily basis at Billie Joe's house. They clicked fairly well, but John was just a little
too controlling over Billie and Mike. There was a struggle for power in the band. Billie had always considered himself the
leader, yet because John was a few years older than he and Mike, John felt that he should lead the band.
"You guys want to do it your way?" John asked combatively in Billie's garage one day during practice, "Go ahead. I'll leave
and you two dumbfucks will be stuck in garage stage the rest of your career." He got up from his stool; however, Billie Joe
stopped him.
"Ok, ok!" he sighed, "I'll play it faster at that part, but you don't have to be a dick about it, y'know? I wrote the song,
didn't I?"
John sat back down and shook his head, "Just remember I got you a slot at Gilman this Saturday."
On Thanksgiving weekend in 1988, Sweet Children had finally got the opportunity to perform at Gilman Street. Billie Joe was
overly anxious the day before his show.
"I don't know if I'm ready for this," he held onto his girlfriend as they sat on an isolated tree stump. They were at their
usual meeting place: the train tracks at Christie Road. It was an odd location, but Mrs. Paleno did not think Billie Joe
was suitable for her daughter. Thus, the young couple met right behind Erica's house: close enough for Erica to sneak away,
yet far enough to be hidden from her mother's eye.
Erica kissed the side of Billie's face and smiled, "You are ready for this. Sweet Children sounds amazing and you've
been working so hard to get this show. You guys will be great. IF it makes you feel better, I'll be standing right in the
front row to cheer you on. I know you've got talent, Bill."
Billie smirked at his supportive girlfriend. A train whistle blew in the distance and drove in front of the two lovesick
teens.
The night before Sweet Children's big show at Gilman Street, Sweet Children performed a short warm-up gig at his mom's work
at Rod's Hickory Pitt in Valejo, California. There were only twenty people who came to watch: all of his mom's coworkers,
Erica, and a couple of punk acquaintances. Sweet Children played with vigor; they did both covers and originals written by
Billie Joe. His mom said that they had played well and that she was sure he'd do fine at the actual show. His punk friends
agreed.
The show turned out even better than the rehearsal. The crowd was scanty, but Sweet Children played as if they were the Beatles
playing at Shea Stadium. They sang harmonies, had unique riffs, and they connected with the meager audience as best as they
could. Billie Joe loved the energy he felt upon the stage. He smiled at his girlfriend in the crowd and dedicated a song
directly to her. Little did Billie know that a middle-aged man stood in the audience of misfitted teenagers critiquing his
newly formed band.
Finally There, 1989:
As Billie Joe, Mike, and John packed away their instruments, the older man approached them. He was sort of short, thin, and
had buzzed hair. He wore a leather jacket with various patches and buttons naming punk bands and icons in the area. On the
back was a giant pot leaf. Billie Joe was a little hesitant as this older stranger came up to him.
"You kids were great," said the man to Billie and he held out his hand for him to shake, "My name is Larry Livermore and I
have a record company out in Northern California. I was wondering if maybe you guys would like to have me produce a record
for Sweet Children?"
Billie Joe's eyes sparked at those words; his body flushed with happiness.
"Are you serious?" Billie questioned, so surprised by this sudden good news, "I mean, this was only just our first official
show."
"I'm dead serious," said Livermore, "especially if this was only one of your earlier shows. Here," he handed Billie Joe a
card, "That's my address and number. Just call whenever you want to record and I'll be sure to find you guys a nice studio
to produce the album."
Billie nodded and quickly informed his bandmates and Paleno the good news.
By early 1989, Sweet CHildren recorded their first full-length record. Only the record cover does not read 'Sweet Children.'
Billie changed the name of his band the day before he went in and recorded with Livermore in Berkeley.
"Why?" asked Livermore in a phone conversation with Billie the night before, "Why are you changing the band name so suddenly?
And to what exactly, may I ask?"
Billie smirked as he held the phone; he was clearly high on weed, "I want us to be called Green Day--yeah. Think of it.
I mean, we're getting kind of old to be called 'Sweet Children.' That's not a punk name. Green Day can get us places
. . . it's punk, man, I swear!"
Livermore was a little puzzled, "Are you stoned right now?"
Billie Joe laughed, "Yep."
"And I'm assuming this new band name is just some stupid weed reference, right?"
Billie sighed, "I guess . . . yeah! Yeah, but even if I wasn't high right now, I'd still want us to be called Green
Day. It's more fitting for us, right? We're all stoners in the band, so it's perfect. We've matured from Sweet fucking
Children."
"Good," said a satisfied Livermore, "That'll work. I'll see you and the band tomorrow at eleven, then." And they hung up.
Their album was titled 1,039 / Smoothed Out Slappy Hours. That year it sold several thousand copies in the U.S. Livermore
decided to send Green Day on their first tour.
One of the bands playing that summer evening was Isocracy. Billie Joe had met the drummer, John Kiffmeyer once while helping
the band take down their set.
|
