”Oh, my God, I’m turning out like my dad,” sings Green Day’s Billie Joe Armstrong. Well, not quite. Aside from a few ill-advised nods to maturity (strings here, horns there, a spaghetti Western-style instrumental elsewhere), the trio’s third major-label album is mostly more of the same hyperactive pop-punk it introduced on 1994’s Dookie. Hooky, too. But since the kids who once embraced the band seem to have outgrown this, will anyone other than rock critics give a hoot? B-