Content warning: This article contains mentions of suicide.

Somebody should tell Billie Joe Armstrong’s skin that it’s not Y2K anymore. While they’re at it, tell Armstrong the same. He and his fellow 51-year-old bandmates are closer to their golden years than their last good album, but they’re still playing like it’s 2004.

Yet somehow, approaching three decades of stardom, the band is as active as ever. In November, the band announced a five-month stadium tour slated to kick off in Spain on May 30. Last Tuesday, they performed a surprise concert in a New York City subway station with Jimmy Fallon. On Friday, they released studio album No. 14, “Saviors.”

The album was, unsurprisingly, a disappointment. It was yet another reminder that Green Day is living in a heyday long since past.

For a band that has been active since the ’90s, Green Day hasn’t changed much. It’s still the same three guys — Armstrong leading vocals and guitar, Mike Dirnt on bass and Tré Cool on drums — trilling the same pop-punk with the same political backdrop. What they’ve gained in technical aptitude, though, they’ve lost in sincerity.

Right out of the gate, “Saviors” falls on its face. “The American Dream is Killing Me” could have been a scathing critique of the housing crisis in the United States, but the song ended up being a disparate, unenthused mess with no central message or emotion. Of course, the song wouldn’t be complete without a mention of suicide at the end, because Green Day needs to remind its listeners that the band is still edgy.

Following a not-so-strong start, “Look Ma, No Brains!” tells a trite tale of a dropout kid who thinks they’re going to make it big, when they very clearly are not. The song might have had some sort of deeper impact had it not been for the fact that Armstrong dropped out no less than 41 years ago. Don’t forget another unrelated mention of suicide to hammer home the edginess.

The rest of the album largely suffers from the same problems. Green Day remains topically attuned and skillful, but its lyrics have lost touch with the new world. Armstrong could’ve connected with a line like “Welcome to my problems” in the ’90s, but it entirely misses the mark today.

What are his problems? He’s almost 30 years married, sober, with two kids. Yet Armstrong is still singing about puppy love and alcohol. “Do you wanna be my girlfriend?” You’re 51. Grow up.

Despite how out-of-touch the album is, its ability to call back to Green Day’s old sound still shines. “Dookie” turns 30 on Feb. 1 and “American Idiot” turns 20 in September, and the band hasn’t missed a technical beat since.

The new album’s “1981” shares the fast pace of older hits like “Burnout” while “One Eyed Bastard” shares a lot of the same energy and conventions as the elder fan-favorite “Holiday.” More overtly, “Living in the ’20s” just rips a riff directly from “Horseshoes and Handgrenades,” a single from their 2009 album, “21st Century Breakdown.”

Green Day’s problem is not their sound, though. The band led the pop-punk genre into a resurgence in the ’90s and 2000s, and unlike some other bands of that era, Green Day has managed to keep its members in mint condition. That said, the band is missing something that skyrocketed them to fame in their glory days: honesty.

Back in 2004, “Wake Me Up When September Ends” shined on an album full of nothing but great songs because it told a tale of truthful emotion. Armstrong was inspired to write the song by his father’s death in 1982, when Armstrong was only 10 years old. It is a melancholic song, but it is also beautiful. “Saviors” features no such beauty.

Every song on “Saviors” is performed with the same level of emotion: none at all. Armstrong’s vocals are so one-note that they could’ve been created by AI. Each track is backed by a general depressive anger that, in the past, defined the band. Now, it feels forced and bizarre.

Bar one song, that is. As the album approaches its close, a glimmer of hope pierces through the nostalgic veil. That glimmer is titled “Father to a Son,” and it might be the best song on the album.

Don’t get me wrong, the vocals are still flat — seriously, it’s inhuman how emotionless they are — but the song strikes the proper chord in a vaguely personal way. The acoustic lead-in and the string kick following the first chorus match the groundedness and conversational tone of the lyrics. Altogether, you have a complete, unique work rather than a hazy mimicry of past glory.

Perhaps the band has forgotten how to write from the heart, or perhaps it has become far too familiar with writing bargain-bin criticisms of hot-topic issues. Either way, Green Day lost its sincerity, and now we’re left with hollow lyrics from, ironically, a band of sellout status — yet another casualty of the punk industry.