Billie Joe Armstrong On the Fire and Freedom Behind "21st Century Breakdown"

Was there a moment during the show last night when you asked yourself, while performing the new album, "Did I go too far? Why did I have to write 18 songs? Why not 12?" Did you need every song on the album to tell your story?
If I want to align myself with the tradition of really creative records and great musicians, then I want to make sure there is no stone left unturned and we are getting the most out of the moment. There are no regrets whatsoever. At the end, last night, we played "Homecoming" [the mini-opera on American Idiot]. We were scratching our heads: "Should we do it after 'Minority'?" We knew the crowd was burnt at that point. But I've often felt deprived of doing the thing I love most. We haven't played live for so long, and I have a lot of love and enthusiasm for what I'm doing.

Do you get stressed as you write, trying to keep up the momentum?
I love the moments of inspiration, when you feel pretty good about yourself and things are okay. It's the shit in between, when you're blocked — you have a melody in your head and no words for it. It drives you fucking crazy. I had the melody to "Restless Heart Syndrome" [on 21st Century Breakdown] for a year. I had nothing to write about. I would be sitting there: "I feel stupid." "Little Girl" and "21 Guns" were the same way. But you have to stick with it. It's the patience that drives you crazy. But the moments when you nail something — that's when you're most free. There is no outside stress. You're just in the zone.

Mike Dirnt told me that music is enormously important to you — that if you didn't have it, you'd still be a great husband and father but with a big hole in your life.
When things were boiling over in my household, as a kid, I started to depend on music. I remember coming home from school and just playing guitar for hours in my room. Music was an escape on all levels. I could put my headphones on and listen to an album, front to back. I loved the feeling when the hair on your arms stood up.

What records were a particular refuge for you?
When I started getting into rock, it was Van Halen, Women and Children First. Then I started getting into punk. I would listen to the first Operation Ivy record. There was one band called Rich Kids on LSD. And Hüsker Dü — Warehouse: Songs and Stories hit me like a ton of bricks. It took me to a different place. I was getting into the Beatles, the way they affected me. Music would take me over. I always had an emotional response to it.