‘Life ain’t pretty . . . I can testify to that s--t,” opined Billie Joe Armstrong early in last night’s Green Day concert at Barclays Center.
The last eight months have seen him suffer a drink- and prescription-drug-fueled meltdown onstage in Las Vegas, enter an outpatient rehab program, and have his band’s big return come to a screeching halt before it could even get into second gear.
You get the feeling that his testimony on life’s ugliness would indeed be compelling, but Armstrong would never dream of ruining anyone’s night out with such self-pitying.
Instead, he and his Berkeley punks