It was late. I was driving south on the 101,
somewhere between San Francisco and Los
Angeles, and though it had been a long day
of Golden State driving, I’d found solace
in a few minutes of ocean watching near
the Cliff House and—more importantly—in
97.7/104.5 KFOG. Dave Grohl shouldn’t be unfamiliar. Nirvana
was such a seminal part of my musical
upbringing that, without him banging the
piss out of the drums—as he might say—the
experience surely wouldn’t have been the
same.
If there was ever a radio station I wish I
could export back to Indiana, it’s KFOG. And
at 8:56PM local time it served up another
gem: “Everlong.” Sometimes bands just don’t work out. I
mean, sometimes band members don’t get
along or—let’s face it—the music sucks and
no one is into it. But when Kurt Cobain died
in April of 1994, Nirvana just ended. Just
like that.
And not just the regular “Everlong.” The
acoustic version.
So, minutes to midnight back where I’m
from, I’m in traffic belting out every word
of what is, in my opinion, the greatest rock
song of 1997. (Sorry Stephan Jenkins, you
can’t win ‘em all.)
And in that moment I realized something
about myself: Dave Grohl is my spirit animal.
Here’s why.
We’ve got some history.
Maybe it’s the fact that we’re both self-
taught converted drummers. Or even that
“Everlong” was one of the first covers I
learned to play on the guitar. Or perhaps
that a Foo Fighters song was featured
during my wedding. (“Miracle” from the
acoustic side of “In Your Honor,” which met
my bride-to-be’s requirement of having
a string feature in the music.) But in that
moment I felt, in some small way, that Dave
I were connected. Like we were old friends
singing together Carpool Karaoke-style.
And in a sense, for anyone like me who
grew up in the late ‘80s or early ‘90s, the
notion that we all sort of go way back with
He’s the king of second chances.
And lest you forget, Kurt’s tragic suicide
occurred just months removed from the
release of an album that had debuted at
number one, a Nirvana appearance on SNL,
the recording of the now much-hallowed
MTV Unplugged performance and the
launch of a European tour. And though the
tour was cancelled early on—due to issues
with and concerns over Cobain’s health—the
band was still one of the biggest acts in the
world at that time.
But then it all came crashing down.
In interviews since Kurt’s death, Dave has
talked about how music was too painful
at that point, too strong a reminder of the
horrific loss of a close friend—scary, even.
He didn’t even want to turn on the radio, let
alone resume playing.
But as time passed, there was a realization
that music was the one thing that could help
him work through all that had happened.
Which is how the Foo Fighters were born.
ToneReport.com
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