Me and Foo

For the past three months or so I’ve been taking inspiration for my writing from the Foo Fighters, but until now, I haven’t actually written about the band itself. Here goes.

My writing process has meant immersing myself in the entire Foo Fighters output, some of which helps transport me back to inhabiting the skin of my twenty-something self, and all of which has been a source for moulding characters, personalities and situations. I’ve relished this system and it hasn’t been a case of having the Foos tinkling in the background while I tap out a chapter (I don’t actually think that's possible). What I mean is I’ve been listening intently to the lyrics, just like I used to hang onto the words of The Beatles when I was 12, listening and making up stories in my head. Sometimes I’m not sure if the music brings me the story, or if the story fits the music. Whatever it is, it works for me. 

To look at me, you'd probably never guess I'm pounding the London pavements with ‘White Limo’ blaring on my headphones, or ‘Good Grief’ or ‘The Sky is a Neighbourhood’. I expect you’d see me as mumsie, approachable and probably into James Blunt. No. When the kids watch 'Monsters University' they laugh at Sherri Squibbles, the death-metal loving mum, they point at her and look at me - "that’s you that is", they say. Sigh. I don’t mind, I’m resigned. But I will have you know I don’t wear curlers or a floral dressing gown, but “does anyone need gum?” 

Of course in my head I’m still the fresh faced girl who wiped off the heavy 50s-inspired eye makeup, pulled on the combat trousers and quite literally gave herself whip-lash, head-banging to ‘Breed’ with her mate Paul. Nirvana felt dangerous and sexy and attracted both genders. A couple of girlfriends who were equally into Nirvana back then also liked bands like Stone Temple Pilots and Soundgarden. But in my circle no one (male or female) but me progressed to the Foo Fighters. Until ‘Learn to Fly’ of course. 

I've loved listening to the tracks I've not heard for a while, the whole exercise is a joy, an absolute blast. I’ve concluded that David Grohl needn't write a memoire, although I dearly wish he would as he’s a born raconteur. His life story is all there in the songs: pain, sex, loss, love, sex, resolve, joy, hate, sex, glory, self-doubt, wonderment, melancholia and sex, all in chronological order. Did I mention sex? Is it just me, my interpretation? Isn’t sex the bedrock of, er, rock? Dave bangs hard, we all know that, but he is also a contemplative songwriter. I can’t write poetry and lyrics kill me. I can’t distill a thought or feeling down to its very essence like he does. I’m not here to give examples, fans will know what I mean. If you don’t already know, go and take a listen. 

There’s a novel in all of us, so it goes, and of course I dream of my own ISDN number and the all important cover to be judged on, but I have no illusions that what l’m writing is worthy of printing. Mostly I’m writing just to see if I can. I’m muddling through, trying to create and, no, I don’t want to go to a creative writing class, I read a lot and I just want to figure it out for myself. 

The following thought makes me laugh: if my life were a well-thumbed book, the places where the spine would be cracked and where the pages would voluntarily fall open, would be in the chapters covering the 90s to mid-00s. Things were so exciting. The soundtrack to that magical era is an eclectic, varied one, covering all genres contemporary to the time and from all the preceding 20th century musical epochs. I can think of very few artists whose output has spanned the two decades plus since that time, and fewer still that I’ve kept up with and in fact grown up with. But  many of my life’s significant events have had the Foo Fighters as a backdrop. Nine albums in the bag and still going strong.

Now I have a whole new album to help me write! And with the rest of their discography fresh in my mind, I’m irritated to read reviews of Concrete and Gold that say its just more of the same old Foo Fighters. Firstly, if it were, I’d be fine with that. Secondly, no, no, no, it’s the biggest shift in sound they’ve ever made. I’ve also heard some people coming from a opposite stance saying they don’t like the change. To counteract that, I say embrace change, its the only constant in life you can rely on happening. Who wants to be staid and stand still? Diversity is good too, mixing it up is pretty. (The temptation to get political here is strong but I’ll rein it in.) The same goes for what you create. I suppose you can’t please all the people can you? And musical taste is a very personal thing. 

For me Concrete and Gold is wonderfully different to past Foo Fighters albums. It wasn’t made at home in Dave Grohl’s garage or his super-duper 606 Studio. It was recorded at legendary East West, produced by pop guy Greg Kurstin. Yes, pop. I love the result, the change is not one I’ve had to work at to like. It suits me, I like Dave’s tracked up vocals, I like the intertwining melodies and the fuller layers of instruments and BVs. The Foo sound on this is lusher, fleshier and more harmonic than ever. This makes it huger, I don’t mean in a thump-your-way-through-it type way, the banging on this is more subtle, maybe cleverer even. On the whole the feel of the record is thoughtful and melancholy with an overriding theme of ‘what the hell is happening in the world?’, which I think at least half of the planet can relate to right now. This record hangs together brilliantly and flows easily from track to track in the style of a concept album of old. I love that Concrete and Gold makes me want to lie in green grass staring at the stars. 

So not everyone likes this new record, and you know, that’s OK. I don’t like everything the The Beatles ever did and they are the best band that ever were (I will fight you on this one). ‘Octopus’s Garden’ reviles me, and don’t give me ‘Savoy Truffle’, I’ll only tell you where to put it. I don’t like ‘While My Guitar Gently Weeps’ (I’m ducking here) and there’s more than one area on my old White Album vinyl that is still as glossy as the day I bought it. But I love The Beatles just as passionately, possibly more so, as the ‘flaws’ only help the brilliance stand out. However, again, its all a matter of personal taste.

I love that this band like that they are viewed by some as a, wait for it…. ‘Dad Band’. What impresses me is that they don’t stand still or exploit their past glory. Maybe what keeps creative people going is the fact that they’re never fully satisfied with what they create. They constantly strive to reach some sort of artistic nirvana (forgive me), where everything formed is a perfect representation of what they imagined when they first set out. I think we all do that, I hope so, just keep moving forward. 

I know that its important for the Foo Fighters to write songs that can be replicated well in concert. Run works live, so does Sky and La Dee Da. Not all fans will agree, but I think it would be exiting to have more experiments, even more risk taking. I want more Taylor Hawkins vocals and Dave on drums. I want Shifty up front and centre too (do it). I always want Pat - the epitome of state-side punk. And Mendel? Oh, I’m a bass player lover and the guy has hidden depths. He likes February Stars - left-field? Not at all. It has a killer baseline and a freaking firework display at the end. Give me Rami giving the band more layers. Give me more. Never stop. Ever. I just hope that by the time the next record comes out I won’t need any more writing inspiration! I want to be done, done, on to the next one. 

By the way, I can’t pick a favourite new Foo song, I love them all for different reasons, but ‘Run’ was a genius choice for first single as it covers everything a Foo Fighter fan might desire: pretty buildup, punk shouty bit, melodic release, and who in their right mind could refuse Dave’s invitation to run with him? Not me. Pulls on trainers.