
Dave Grohl’s favourite song by the Foo Fighters
Dave Grohl’s music with the Foo Fighters is sort of like having your first ever cigarette. The prospect is exciting, the simple sight of the packet incites every Steve McQueen scene in your head. You pull one out, light it up and take what you think is going to be the smoothest debut drag of all time. But reality hits, and you erupt into a pathetic fit of coughing, painting you as a pretty hopeless picture of adolescent dorkiness.
OK, maybe that’s slightly harsh on Grohl, but you catch my drift. The Foos are everything Nirvana tried not to be—inoffensive, palatable and dare I say it, commercial. They mastered a brand of stadium dad rock that, over the past few decades, cemented Grohl’s place in the pantheon of rock and roll history. He was the energetic drummer who became a commanding frontman, directing the movement of anthemic stadium choruses.
Don’t get me wrong, he’s nailed the formula, and as I sit and compare his music to my first cigarette, he’s booking stadium tours. But there was an essence of the musician who existed in Nirvana, that, in my least favourite Foos’ song, seems lost.
I often wonder how aware Grohl is of that himself. As Taylor Hawkins pounds the drums behind him, Grohl’s tamed punk sensibilities are consigned to the structure of sing-along vocal melodies, desperate to break free. A dynamic that can be heard in the band’s Greatest Hits compilation, which he self-describes as “a Cliffs Notes version of the Foo Fighters catalogue”.
But I should add that wasn’t him joining my crusade in reducing Foos’ classics to mere dad rock. Instead, Grohl clarified his description on the grounds that “these are the songs most people know.”
But the crucial point I am missing in all of this is what the Foo Fighters gave to Grohl, that perhaps Nirvana never could. While I waste my time arguing that the drummer is locked inside the body of a frontman, it was ultimately always the other way around. And sure, ‘My Hero’ may represent the cornier version of that artist, but it gave way to a freer rendition of him that could operate closely behind.
Because when Grohl was asked about his favourite Foo Fighters track, it wasn’t a stadium filler, nor was it a punk-leaning riot inciter. It was a moment of delicacy that showcased an artist who wanted the chance to be at the forefront of a carefully crafted celebration of songwriting.
Grohl explained, “Foo Fighters have 65 other tracks. Some of those are probably the ones that I love the most, like ‘Aurora’ off the third album. Every one of these songs lyrically represents something personal to me.”
‘Aurora’ doesn’t necessarily break any new ground for the Foos lyrically. It ultimately follows on from the stall they set out from to master grandiose existential imageries where it usually feels like a happy Hollywood ending is incoming. But on ‘Aurora’, Grohl delivers it with an attitude more nuanced altogether, to prove between the DIY punk hero and leader of the dad rock army sits a musician who can comfortably do it all.