I’ve always had a peculiar affinity for The Foo Fighters. They’ve never been my favorite band, but how could I not appreciate a band whose front man was the drummer? Granted, as the years went on, Dave Grohl did less and less of the drumming, but it was almost an inspirational tale to a teenager who likes attention but by definition remains hidden behind his instrument most of the time. That and, it was always the front man who got the ladies. And when I was seventeen, there was nothing on this earth I wanted more than female attention.
I think too, in a slightly less juvenile sense, the progression from drummer to front man was compelling because the popular conception of drummers doesn’t allow for a lot of depth. The front man - usually the guitarist - can be a tormented bad boy, a warrior poet, a lover and a fighter, whatever. Drummers are generally seen as mouth-breathing, single-minded id machines hell bent on making as much noise as possible. The Muppets' Animal sums it up pretty well.
So I was bound to be interested in The Foo Fighters from the word go. I remember sort of liking “Big Me,” including the mentos gag in the video, but I never got into the whole album for one reason or another. However, “The Colour And The Shape” featured at least two or three radio hits that grabbed me enough that I bought the album. Or maybe my brother did. Either way, I ended up listening to it a lot.
(Preview Songs)
“Doll” - This song doesn’t really stand alone, in my mind. It’s almost like a warm-up. It is so less intense than the rest of the album. That said, since I know what a crazy rush follows, I appreciate this song. It builds the tension for me.
“Monkey Wrench” - This was one of the songs I know before getting the album, or at least one of the ones that stood out early in my memory. I had this song and two others on a cassette tape that I listened to a lot. I’m not sure what most of the lyrics meant, but I definitely identified with the idea of not wanting to be used by someone else. But the lyrics barely matter, right up until the end. Up until the end, the whole idea is just “ROOOOOOOCK!” - a sentiment I still think is pretty great. And then he hits the part where he yells out for thirty seconds. I’ve tried to do this part myself so many times I can’t count, and every time it ends the same: me, faltering out about two thirds of the way through, light-headed and gasping for air. How he managed it I’ll never know. You go, Dave Grohl.
“Hey, Johnny Park!” - For some reason, this song was lost to me for about eight years. Somehow it got deleted or lost from my mp3 collection, and I never noticed. Then one day I was listening to someone else’s CD or something, and I was like - hey, what’s this song? I’m glad I rediscovered it. This song does a great job with contrasts, using both the quiet, clean verses and the crashing, muddy choruses to express … something. Some strong feeling, probably angsty. I don’t really care, in this case. I just enjoy the sound of it, including the sound of his voice. Yes, I am generally a lyrics person - but not always. It’s hard to focus on lyrics when you are imagining yourself playing along - a feat “The Colour and the Shape” manages on many of its tracks.
“My Poor Brain” - The ending of “Hey, Johnny Park!” kind of bleeds into this song, which is something I love, but also raises the question of “Just how did I not notice a song was missing?” Oh well. This song sticks with me mostly for two phrases. The first gives it its title: “I can’t save you from my poor brain.” I have and probably always will identify with this line, with the idea that you are somewhat aware of your neuroses, but you can’t stop them, can’t keep them from blowing up all over people and situations. And the other line is a vulgar one: “Sometimes I feel I’m getting stuck, between the handshake and the f---.” As someone who got stuck in the “friend zone” so often I thought about building a summer home there, this line struck a chord. It goes along with the other line in a sense, that of being stuck in a situation you can’t figure out how to change. The song’s chaotic intro and exit and generally driving guitars help sell the frustration.
“Wind Up” - This another song with lyrics that caught my attention in that “What the heck?” sense. “Want a song that’s indelible like manimal” - who or what is “manimal”? Beats me. Anyway, this song really taps into the anger I sometimes felt as a teenager. I often felt so frustrated by people, by situations, but I would just bottle it up. Friends turn on you for no reason, the girl picks the jerk guy over you, whatever. Sometimes I wondered what it would be like to just vent my frustrations at full volume. Thankfully I could do it vicariously through The Foo Fighters, and thus everyone was spared an embarrassing scene in the cafeteria (or wherever). Still I would think of certain people, as the lyrics say, “I hope you never see me wind up.” Another lyric I didn’t get: “farewell my sweet paramania.” I just assumed paramania was something like paranoia or neurosis, but it turns out it is an uncontrollable urge to complain. Hmmm. That would have also described me well back then. Or more recently as well, I am loathe to admit. It’s funny, as I’m writing this I’m realizing how much of The Foo Fighter’s music taps into the negative sides of my emotions. No wonder I was drawn to them.
“Up In Arms” - This one is more fun than the last few. It starts low and almost contemplative, by The Foo Fighters standards. Then they stop, and play it again at about double speed. I love that the fast version starts with a fast run of sixteenth notes on the snare. Nothing like that hard-charging fill. I like the faster version better, it’s just fun rock - very reminiscent of “Big Me” in a way.
“My Hero” - I was crazy about this song. I think I actually tried to play this on drums before I got Rock Band. Of course, I assumed the constant thumping must be part bass drum, part floor tom. Rong. It’s all bass drum. Or at least, the bass drum plays on almost every eighth note. After I first played this on Rock Band, my leg was in such agony I thought I might never walk normally again. I assume in reality Dave had a double-pedal bass, because it would just be cruel to try to thump on the bass with regularity that fast for that long. However he does it, it adds a ton of drive to the song, just carrying it along. This is another one of the songs I had on my cassette tape, so every guitar lick, every double slam on the snare drum, is indelibly etched in my mind. I have no idea who his hero is, or what the hero did, but again, for me the Foo Fighters are usually not about the lyrics. I just love any driving rock and roll (that retains musicality), and this album has a lot of it. For what it’s worth, my all time favorite example of the kind of driving rock I love is Jimmy Page and the Black Crowes’ cover of “Shape of Things to Come.”
“See You” - This was never one of my favorites, but I appreciate the contrast from the rest of the album. It has more of a shambling, shuffling along feel. And it is swung, which is almost always fun. The great part is, “shambling along” by The Foo Fighters standards means it is still more driving than 90% of pop or alternative rock out there. I don’t really get how he is getting letters returned to sender and yet expresses how good it is to “see you,” “you” presumably being the intended recipient of the letters. Still, the song ends in a cool drum fill, so who’s going to complain about nonsensical lyrics? Not me.
“Enough Space” - I love the bass intro here, or maybe it is a low guitar. Either way it is cool. Then it’s just some straightforward rock until everything drops out for the voice. I’m noticing too, how often “everything drops out” means everything gets quiet except the drums. No doubt that’s another reason I like this album. The drum part on the verse is simple, but each measure has a hit on an open hi hat, and I love that sound. The chorus pounds on the snare every beat, which is literally the most gloriously straightforward way of adding drive to a song. I bet anything this song rushed like crazy when played live. Also, holy crap Dave Grohl must have vocal chords of steel for all the yelling he does.
“February Stars” - I don’t remember liking this song early on, but it became one of my favorites, if not my absolute favorite song on the CD. I think my brother is the one who showed me the light and pointed out how great this song is. The drums don’t have much to do, so maybe that’s why I missed it at first. Plus, it is just so different. Even when the drums come in, they are sparse and/or operatic in their use. The beginning of the song is this perfectly spacey atmosphere that builds ever so slowly. I like the guitar’s strumming pattern, too, just the right amount of build up at the end of a chord. And then you get to the thump-thump-thump-thump-thump build into the crashing, overwrought (in a magnificent way) climax. The way the drums interleave when he sings “February Stars” is a masterstroke of using the drums to add to the effect of the music and not just be the back beat. Talking about the lyrics for a minute, one line that I’ve always thought was just fantastic was, “One day I’ll have enough to give more.” I’m not sure if he is trying to be ironic, but that is how I take it. If you wait until you feel like you have enough to give to others, you’ll never give. It’s a lesson I try to remind myself of often, but not as often as I should. Other than that I don’t have a good handle on the lyrics, other than a generally sense of loss and sadness, and yet it doesn’t feel final, like he knows this feeling will eventually pass. Perhaps the month in the title gives it that feeling, or the words “temporary scars.” I like that thought, that all pain is temporary.
“Everlong” - This was the third song on my cassette tape, and probably the most intricate. The drum part rates five flaming devil heads (or whatever that icon is) on Rock Band - the hardest difficulty there is. I love the sixteenth notes on the hi hat - yet another stable for driving a song forward. This is another part I tried to play prior to Rock Band. I love the muffled voice in the background, like someone coming through over a radio or a walkie talkie. I like the question the song asks of whether intense happiness and enjoyment can last forever. It is real, and it can be found again when it is lost, but it always seems like happiness is never good enough for us unless we can guarantee it won’t leave. I don’t know what to make of, “You gotta promise not to stop when I say ‘when.”” I guess it could be like a “safe” word situation, and I sort of get that in a “setting boundaries just so they can be broken” sense, in a “wanting to be pushed beyond the limits of your comfort zone” sense.
“Walking After You” - Longing, such a staple on many of my early tastes, finally makes an appearance almost at the end. The drums are probably just brushes on the snare, and the guitar is acoustic. It definitely stands out. I like the guitar parts, and as always I like hearing the squeak of the strings as he changes chords. I remember this song having something to do with the X-Files, and looking it up the song was released as part of the soundtrack to the first X-Files movie, although in a different version. The version with the movie is more intricate and fuller, but in my opinion it is a definite case of “less is more.” The sparser album version is superior - it lets the emotion sit bare and unadorned.
“New Way Home” - And we end on a straightforward, uptempo rocking note. It sounds like simple, fun rock to me, and that is A-O-K. I do like some of the lyrics, which stand out a little more clearly over the instruments than on most of the songs: “If you could manage me, I’ll try to manage you, but lately it’s all I ever do,” “I’ll never tell you the secrets I’m holding; I know these things must bore you,” and of course, “I felt like this on my way home” (repeated many times). For that last line, I think it is the repeating of it over and over again, growing from a whisper to a shout, is what does it for me. The whole final stretch, starting with whispers and muted strumming, then adding bass and guitar and thumping drums, is a great example of building. Again it is a part that I think would be insanely hard not to rush. In fact, I’m pretty sure they do rush it a bit - presumably intentionally. The tension builds like a wound-up spring, until it can’t take anymore, and then bam! - the final chorus, with more repetition of the line.
“The Colour and the Shape” is, by turns, angry, emotive, and just plain fun. And sometimes it is all three in the same song. This album doesn’t reach to the heights of emotion some of my favorites do, but it is a triumph of well done rock and roll, and proof positive that it is possible for a drummer to become a rock star.
Next up: The Dave Matthews Band tells us what came “Before These Crowded Streets,” my annual Halloween daydream, and I gush about another drummer.
P.S. There’s an Easter egg in here for one very special reader. I wonder if she’ll spot it.
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