IN NEW ALBUM BUT HERE WE ARE, THE FOO FIGHTERS’ MEDITATION ON TRAGEDY, FRIENDSHIP, AND GRIEF COVERS THE ENTIRE SPECTRUM OF THE HUMAN EXPERIENCE IN WHAT IS PERHAPS THE ALT-ROCK LEGENDS’ MOST HONEST WORK YET
BY MADELYN DAWSON
On March 25, 2022, Taylor Hawkins, former Foo Fighters drummer, suddenly and unex-pectedly passed away at only 50 years old, breaking the hearts of fans across the globe. Hawkins spent decades with the band, recording eight full-length studio albums. He was a father of three, a Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inductee, and according to Rolling Stone, a regular sufferer of stage fright. This June, Foo Fighters released But Here We Are, the band’s 11th studio album, a 48-minute LP dedicated to Hawkins, as well as frontman Dave Grohl’s late mother Virginia, who had passed away a few months prior.
The album meditates on grief ’s devastating contradictions, grasping at the air while learning how to cope with absence. All ten tracks feature Grohl on drums, a poignant reminder of his stint as a drummer with Nirvana before Kurt Cobain’s untimely passing. Themes surrounding grief and loss such as this are woven throughout the record: in a full-circle metaphor, Grohl finds himself back behind the drum set. But make no mistake; for all the album’s fraught-fretted grief, the Foos affirm the interminability of their particular alchemy of rock, namely the necessity of a steady riff and resounding drum beat. But Here We Are is also the group’s most immediate album, and for that, one of their most compelling. But Here We Are’s greatest feat is its sheer integrity, its loyalty to the group’s unmistakable sound, and it works within the realm of arena-rock resonance to tell a story about loss that is both universal and agonizingly personal.
The album kicks off with Grohl’s signature rough vocals, as a distorted, “It came in a fl ash, it came out of nowhere” begins opening track “Rescued,” which builds to an iPhone-fl ashlights-in-the-air-worthy chorus, a deliciously familiar, hooky breed of rock that screams Foo. Grohl sings, “We are all just waiting to be rescued tonight,” and it’s impossible not to imagine legions of fans belting the words along with him. Standout tracks “Hearing Voices” and “Show Me How” follow the band as they venture into more ethereal soundscapes, the former ending with the plucky but haunting line, “Speak to me, my love,” and the latter picking up right where it left off , complete with moody Slowdive-esque dream-pop harmonies, plus backup vocals from the one and only Violet Grohl, the frontman’s 17-year-old daughter.
When the album isn’t an airy dreams-cape, it is a guttural wail. On title track “But Here We Are,” Grohl sings as if he has to literally (and painfully) scrape the sound out from deep within him. Sure, it’s steeped in vitriol and anger, but it is clear, pronounced. As he finds himself caught in grief ’s slipstream, he sings in succession, “Caught in an illusion, not an illusion.” The album ends shrouded in static and distortion with ten-minute epic “The Teacher” followed by closer “Rest.” “The Teacher” is its own multipartite journey through Floyd-inspired guitar wails and Grohl’s thundering percussion, ending with half-vocalized cries of “goodbye” before the track drowns itself in its own static noise.
In “Rest,” Grohl speaks his final goodbyes, barely croaking out the words, “You can be safe now” over the fuzz. But Here We Are becomes a sort of battle cry for Grohl, for himself, for the Foos, and for the big, beautiful world that surrounds them – for the people in it and the people who have left it. And when he sings it, we all better sing along.
Foo Fighters
foofighters.com
