In last Sunday's Post Magazine, the newspaper's retiring rock critic David Segal described what he called the "great Live Concert moment." He wrote:

It's about music, but it's also about an experience that's ephemeral and communal, that you share for a couple of hours with a bunch of strangers who, at some level, you feel like you know because they have the same idiotic glint in their eye when the lights come up. It's the sense that the whole evening means as much to the band as it does to you. It's great songs multiplied by killer performance multiplied by giddy fan reaction.

Green Day took to the stage amidst darkening skies that threatened of the remnants of Hurricane Katrina, shortly after Jimmy Eat World -- who, as a great band in their own right -- played to an audience anxious enough to clap politely but not engaged enough to pay proper attention to the band's melody-heavy brand of emo-rock. Lights dimmed, only to yield to a mysterious man in a pink bunny suit who marched around the stage dancing to the Village People's "YMCA" while chugging bottles of Amstel Light. Upon the bunny's departure, a grandiose classical theme announced Green Day's trimphant arrival to the stage, with frontman Billie Joe Armstrong, bassist Mike Dirnt, and drummer Tre Cool's presence eliciting deafening screams from the crowd.

From the set's opener "American Idiot" to the tear-jerking closing cover of Queen's classic "We are the Champions," Green Day dominated the stage and audience like few contemporary rock bands could. The band worked their way through high-energy punk rock anthems spanning their 16-year career, touching upon material from last year's highly-acclaimed punk rock opus "American Idiot" (which keeps spawning hit singles, including the title track, "Holiday," "Boulevard of Broken Dreams," and "Wake Me Up When September Comes") and reaching back to their iconic introduction to the mainstream, 1994's "Dookie," with "Longview," "Basketcase," and "She." In between they tore through cuts from 1995's "Insomniac" ("Brain Stew/Jaded"), 1997's "Nimrod" ("Hitchin' a Ride" and "King for a Day"), and 2000's "Warning" ("Minority"). The band even managed to work in the classics "Twist and Shout" and "Stand By Me," neither of which were lost on an audience made up of kids, teens, and parents.

Armstrong, at right, captured the audience like few other frontman can, unquestionably controlling the stage and spotlight, running from extreme to extreme while engaging the crowd in extended back-and-forth chants. At one point he sprayed water onto the first rows of the crowd from a hand-held cannon, at another he commanded that the house lights be turned off, only to shine a powerful spotlight along the darkened audience while singing. He started a wave, invited three members of the audience to play the band's respective instruments during a cover of a song by punk-ska pioneers Operation Ivy, played his guitar behind his head and with his teeth, and reminded the audience that political power rested with them, not with politicians. In short, nothing happened during Green Day's two-hour show that Armstrong didn't specifically orchestrate or command.

While amusing and engaging, Armstrong's able manipulation of the audience stood in stark and ironic contrast to the message of many of the band's songs -- don't be anyone but yourself and distrust authority. Armstrong managed to whip the audience into a quasi-militant frenzy, directing thousands of free-thinking Americans to pump their fists in unison while chanting "hey, hey, hey" repeatedly. The audience displayed a surprising alacrity to follow even the slightest hint of instruction from Armstrong, who clearly relished the power he wielded.

In the end, Green Day came off energetic while polished, punk rock while fully mainstream, dangerous and unpredictable while pre-packaged and choreographed. Dyed hair and piercings were balanced by $10 foam hand, $15 stuffed animals, $25 t-shirts, and $50 sweatshirts, all bearing the band's moniker. The band played like the biggest band on the planet -- which, after six awards at this year's MTV's Video Music Awards, they very well might be -- a band angry enough to appeal to rebellious teens but catchy enough to capture the attention of screeching 12-year old girls and their mothers.

All told, though, the show may have been the closest anyone in the audience could get to Segal's "great Live Concert Moment."

All pictures taken from Green Day's official website.