This was one of my first recordings after an accidental twenty-year hiatus. I have been a fan of FF since their first album in 1995. I think a lot of us started off just rooting for Dave, then a couple albums into the band’s career, we realized Grohl was a true rocker in every sense.
As I have mentioned as of late, we learn that when one door closes, another opens. With that early ’90s closure, Dave reinvented himself, and boldly blazed his own unique path that has extended almost twenty years. When he broke his leg he embraced it, gigging from a tongue-in-cheek throne, but every night showing up and playing, like you are supposed to. Life goes on…
Like my other adaptations, I did not want to mimic (as if possible) Foo Fighters’ original track, so I slowed it down, mellowed it out, and stripped it bare. No drums. Just my son, João Pedro and me snapping (he also sings the deeper backup vox).
I am not often a fan of my own stuff, but this one I go to time and time again as soon after “releasing” it, I read Dave’s book. Storyteller? Yeah, and then some. If you have not, you need to read it: https://www.davegrohlstoryteller.com. Just as we root for Dave, the musician, we find ourselves rooting for Dave the human, the husband, the dad, the friend, and the fuck up, which brings us to another door.
A few weeks after finishing the book, tragedy again struck. Unimaginable. When you read the book, you also come to appreciate Pat Smear, whom we all adore, but the human, the empath, Dave’s brother from another mother, who has guided him and been one of his rocks for decades. So my cover is about Dave in the context of his tribe – those who love him – those he loves – and those he’ll see again down the road.
As Dave wrote, “I’m a brand new sky… To hang the stars upon tonight.” We have yet to see that new sky, the opening space in which new stars explode into our universe, but you fucking know Dave Grohl will embark on another journey. Call it Act III, for those playing the at-home Shakespeare game. He ain’t done yet, by far. Personally, I would love to see him pull a mid-’60s Beatles. Hit the studio and record a series of albums impossible to play live. In other words, his best is yet to come. So we root for Dave, admire him, but we actually relate to him, one human, to another, all shuffling down this bittersweet trail called life.
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