EDMONTON - Last time Green Day played indoors in Edmonton, they got roasted for playing only 50 minutes.

It was a long time ago. Songs were shorter back then. They crammed at least 100 songs into those 50 minutes. Something like that.

Then they came back for Edgefest and literally roasted all of their equipment on stage. They just piled all the drums, guitars and amps in a big pile and lit it on fire. This was no spontaneous act of rebellion. The band did exactly the same thing every date of the tour. It was one of the first examples of "arena punk." Still, it was only 50 minutes.

Last night at the sold-out Rexall Place, 14,000 fans finally got the whole deal from Green Day. At last the boys showed some stamina, some depth. Green Day delivered nearly two hours of perfect pop punkery and an example of another relatively new form of musical expression: the punk rock opera. And don't give me that "they don't need no punk label" crap. Green Day has come far, but pretty much everything they do has its roots in punk rock: The energy, the sarcasm, the anti-establishment ideas. This band is bigger than ever because it matured without losing either attitude or showmanship.

Songs are a wee bit longer, though. The band opened with the title track of their new "punk rock concept album" - more words you didn't see together until Green Day came along - called American Idiot. After urging us to "scream so loud that every redneck in America can hear you" (same thing they say every show of this tour), the band launched into Jesus of Suburbia, which clocks in at around 10 minutes. It's a three-part opus expressing spiritual alienation in our modern society. One could hear touches of Peter Gabriel among many varied forms in the popular music canon throughout the performance. A keyboardist, horn players and extra guitarist helped fill in the sound. Nice glockenspiel. Highbrow theme.

Then came contrasts! Singer Billie Joe Armstrong put his hand down his pants and pretended to masturbate. Then they blew up some stuff. Heh, heh. Then he brought up a boy to help him squirt the crowd with super-soakers. Then they played a little light jazz as Armstrong introduced the musicians like a real showman, himself as "George W. Bush." The crowd booed. Hey, it's packaged rebellion as a finely tuned entertainment machine. Why the hell not? They might be making fun of it. A lot of stuff in the show was like that: Getting played in with the theme from 2001: A Space Odyssey, the smirking arena rock poseury, the rendition of Shout (from Animal House). It would be cheesy if they weren't being ironic. At least I think they were.

Later, Green Day "formed" a new band consisting of folks from the crowd who could play. Armstrong had any takers "swear to God" they could really play before letting them up. He asked a 17-year-old guitarist if he's ever been laid before, shook his head knowingly, then declared, "Well, you're gonna get laid tonight. Get your ass up here!" The kid got to keep the guitar, while the guest bassist was made to dive into the crowd. Always a crowd-pleaser, this bit. I can imagine it in a grander form in 25 years when Green Day has its own theme casino in Las Vegas.

The band pulled out the old hits like Brain Stew and Basketcase, plunked them next to newer songs like King for a Day. In that country polka, they all wore funny hats and Armstrong mooned the crowd just before the trumpet solo.

Then the Bics (and glowing cellphones, not quite the same thing) came out again for the touching ballad, Wake Me Up When September Ends. The main set ended with the dramatic Boulevard of Broken Dreams followed by a version of Queen's We Are the Champions.

Holy Elvis, this band can do anything! They enjoy the best of both worlds: dumb and smart. They are as comfortable expressing big ideas as little ones, from bashing Bush to bashing guitars. American Idiot indeed.