RCA Records
All Access Review: A-
Aside from the bizarrely theatrical exorcism Nicki Minaj’s
performed in debuting the song “Roman Holiday” to a quizzical national TV
audience that still hasn’t quite figured out what in the world it was watching,
the 2012 Grammys were memorable for three things: Adele, Paul McCartney’s
extravagant closing number, and the Foo Fighters’ total and complete dominance
in any category that had anything to do with rock music. And wouldn’t you know
it? For once, the Grammys … well, they got it right.
Released almost a year ago, Wasting Light, the Fighters’ triumphant seventh studio album, finds
Dave Grohl and company perfecting their tried-and-true formula of balancing
big-hearted emotions with crashing, screaming, hook-filled hard rock that’s as
therapeutic as burning an ex-lover’s mementos in a blazing bonfire. But, why is
now the right time to reassess an album that’s been dissected and probed
thousands of times by now? Four Grammys – that’s why. Well, that and perhaps
it’s time to see if Wasting Light can
provide any clues as to just where the Foo Fighters go from here and whether
they now deserve a place at the table with rock’s greatest luminaries.
As for the back story to Wasting
Light, it was purported to be a throwback, an analog answer to today’s more
artificial musical output, hatched with Pro Tools and other digital cleansers. And
in many ways, Wasting Light does turn
back the clock. Recorded in Grohl’s Encino, California garage using nothing but
analog equipment Wasting Light was
produced by none other than Butch Vig, who, of course, shepherded Nirvana’s
legendary Nevermind album to
immortality. One of Grohl’s old bandmates Krist Novoselic also showed up during
the Wasting Light sessions to help
out – playing bass and accordion – on “I Should Have Known,” and for the
dramatically wistful “Dear Rosemary,” Grohl enlisted the assistance of punk
hero Bob Mould to bomb away on guitar and lend his grizzled voice to a powerful
duet. With the exception of Vig’s propensity for clean production and
mushrooming volume and the grizzled character Mould’s vocals add to “Dear
Rosemary,” none of that really mattered. In the end, it was the Fighters’
insistence on a return to a warts-and-all recording approach that favors furious
energy and primal band chemistry above antiseptic, bloodless production that brought
Wasting Light to a rolling boil. Of
course, Grohl has had a lot to say lately about how the recording industry’s
emphasis on digitally washing every song to a gleaming, spotless shine is
killing music, and he’s probably spot-on about that.
Though there’s nothing on Wasting Light that approaches the awe-inspiring majesty of the
gathering storm that is “Everlong,” without a doubt the most artfully arranged
and affecting song in the Foo Fighters’ catalog, tracks like “Arlandria” – with
its building tension and a chorus full of tricky little hooks – and the angular
hit “Rope” – its aggressive stop-start dynamics taking full advantage of the
band’s three-guitar attack as Chris Shiflet’s careening leads almost plow
through the guard rail – speak to the album’s delicate balancing act of riding
barreling grooves, torrential riffs and crashing drums roughshod over, around
and through tough, indestructible melodies that refuse to be overwhelmed by any
of it. As with “Arlandria,” “A Matter of Time” and “Back & Forth” surge
with amplified power and roiling emotions, only to ebb slightly and reveal
those gripping melodies that grab hold of your throat and don’t let go. But, as
Stephen Thomas Erlewine notes in his review of Wasting Light for AllMusic.com, it’s about time that Grohl embraced
the hot-wired pace and haunted desert weirdness of Josh Homme and Queens of the
Stone Age – who worked with Grohl on their modern classic LP Songs for the Deaf – and he brings all
of it to bear in “White Limo” and “Bridge Burning,” two songs full of
horsepower that seethe with rage and practically froth at the mouth.
Top to bottom, Wasting
Light is the Foo Fighters’ most consistent album. Whereas previous efforts
boasted a number of memorable hits and a maddening amount of filler that
fluctuated greatly from record to record, Wasting
Light is surprisingly free of waste. And if the intention was to capture
more of a “live” sound, which it seems like almost every band talks about doing
when they’ve hit a plateau somewhere along the way, the Foo Fighters nailed it
and in the process, they’ve unleashed an album that can actually be called a
“classic.” It’s the record we’ve been waiting for since that eponymous debut
way back in 1994 that introduced us to Grohl the songwriter and front man,
roles few thought he was capable of playing. Not at all content with growing
old gracefully, the Foo Fighters have proven they have plenty of life left in
them, provided they focus on bringing intensity and passion to the studio and
are not seduced by the siren song of Pro Tools.
What holds them back from being considered among the true giants of rock
and roll is a tendency to put blinders on and charge straight ahead into the
fray, while also indulging in somewhat predictable quiet-loud-and-then-louder
means of song construction. Wasting Light
finds the Fighters deviating ever so slightly off the beaten path – the vocals
are occasionally a little more dream-like, the dynamics a little more
interesting and acrobatic. Having Pat Smear’s bold and loud rhythm guitar back
in the fold can’t hurt either. In all likelihood, more of the same is going to
come from the Foo Fighters. They’re too far along in their career to
drastically change their personality, with Grohl, Shiflet and Smear all coming
from a fairly puritanical punk background. Still, if they can find different ways
to experiment with tempos and make their sound as thick and intense as
possible, while never losing their melodic sensibilities, the Fighters will keep
be the band that couldn’t be killed. If they simply fall back on old habits,
eventually the world will tire of them.- Peter Lindblad
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