Upon close inspection, however, it can be argued that the reason for the modest-by-comparison numbers may be related to the work itself; while every album has at least that one big hit, their batting average on full albums is admittedly somewhat slight. Take The Colour and the Shape and Wasting Light out of the equation, and I can't really give you another example of what I consider a truly great Foo Fighters album experience, even though I can list off about thirty songs by them that I consider essential. If I'm being honest, what I get out of most of the band's records is a handful of solid additions to their set list and a handful of songs I'm probably never going to listen to more than a handful of times. So as to say, for every Learn To Fly there's an Ain't It the Life, for every The Pretender a Summer's End.
Now, I certainly won't say Foo Fighters make bad albums; the closest they ever came to that was previous record Sonic Highways, which I found didn't take enough from its source material and didn't offer much in the way of thrills beyond its concept. It was a situation where the idea smacked of potential that wasn't fully realized, giving us a few more gems and a few underwhelming cuts that will only ever get championed by the heartiest of fans; if a couple of tracks from its quickly following St. Cecilia EP had made the track listing I'd probably be chalking Sonic Highways up as yet another dependable record in a long line of dependable Foo Fighters records.
Of course, the inclusion of other songs would have been a defection from that album's concept, which ultimately brought it down a peg. By sticking to a rigid premise and recording schedule, a couple of clunkers made the cut by default while a couple of better ideas were shelved for later use. It was a case of the spectacle taking precedence over the quality of the music and, if Grohl's original plan for Concrete and Gold hadn't been thwarted (PJ Harvey recorded a recent album live in front of a small audience and, after hearing of it, Grohl scrapped his plans to do the same), we may have been in for a similar outcome.
Instead, Concrete and Gold finds Grohl and (many) friends abandoning conceptual schemes in favour of focusing on the songs and the sound, and the resulting album is most assuredly better off for it. The same can be said for bringing in mega-producer Greg Kurstin, who harnesses Grohl's natural gift for melody and uses it as a weapon; choruses are bigger, guitars are louder, layers upon layers of harmonies abound, and that's just on current single The Sky Is a Neighborhood, in my opinion the Foos' most complete-package, capital-S Single since Learn To Fly. This added melodic punch is added throughout and even on the album's most on paper heaviest moments; lead single Run marries a super sticky chorus to a blood curdling, screaming Grohl verse. La Dee Da, for all its much too loud mastering and persistent screams, finds time for extra percussion, keyboards and some virtually inaudible saxophone by Dave Koz.
The album's quieter moments shimmer here, including Dirty Water, the verse melodies for which put me in mind of Grohl's performance on the Foos' debut; when the song opens up into its synth-assisted big rock finale (worth noting here that keyboardist Rami Jaffee is promoted to full-blown FF member status this time out), it's like the sun parting the clouds. It's followed by Arrows, a pulsating and haunted stadium stunner that suggests Grohl took a few notes when visiting Josh Homme down the street as QOTSA was recording Villains.
There are also a few surprises in store on Concrete and Gold; a classic rock influence that's always been implied is front and centre on the loose and funky Make it Right, which throws AC/DC, T-Rex and Elton John into a blender and serves it with a side of Doobie Brothers (oh, and Justin Timberlake provides some uncredited background vocals because there doesn't need to be a reason to have Justin Timberlake sing on your record). Happy Ever After (Zero Hour) pays tribute to the quiet side of The Beatles (musically sort of a Blackbird/Across the Universe mashup, with some easy breezy soloing thrown in for a little extra whimsy) before Macca himself takes a turn at the sticks on Sunday Rain, which explores the Fab Four's darker side.
A couple of experiments kind of missed the mark for me, though; penultimate track The Line is modern and ambitious sounding, like the Foos' interpretation of Kings of Leon, and it will probably benefit from more distortion and thousands of people singing along live, but on such a classic-leaning record it sounds a little out of step. Ditto the title track, a dirgy slog that sends the album out on a slow and sour note; the harmonies are nice enough, but the song just plods its way along for five minutes and doesn't bother to reach the level of emotion or catharsis it was likely aiming for.
In the broadest sense, though, Concrete and Gold is indeed another dependable Foo Fighters record, certainly a step up from Sonic Highways while making no case to be heralded as the band's best. It is clear that the group haven't run out of ideas, and even if they don't always stick the landing, you can't fault them for trying to offer something different to their fans, many of whom would have been okay with (or even preferred) more of the same old same old. Stagnation is the fiercest enemy of any band and, nine albums and over twenty years in, the Foos prove that rock and roll is still worth fighting for.
September 15, 2017 • Roswell/RCA
Highlights Make it Right • The Sky Is a Neighborhood • Arrows
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