Work is how
Dave Grohl processes any major life change, so it should come as no surprise that
But Here We Are arrived a little over a year after the unexpected death of
Foo Fighters drummer
Taylor Hawkins in 2022. Back in 1994, the former
Nirvana drummer created the first
Foo Fighters album while he was mourning the death of
Kurt Cobain, the first move in a career comprised of constant motion. Grief wasn't central to 1995's
Foo Fighters. That's not the case on
But Here We Are. Loss and sorrow flow through the album's imagery, culminating in the cascading closer "Rest," whose refrain of "you can rest now/you will be safe now" is easy to interpret as a message to
Hawkins.
Grohl doesn't dwell in the darkness; he faces his bereavement directly, with as clear an eye as he can muster. The candor in the lyrics is matched by the immediacy of the music. Working once again with producer
Greg Kurstin, who first came aboard for 2017's
Concrete and Gold,
Foo Fighters naturally don't indulge in the disco dabbling that marked
Medicine at Midnight, but they don't shy away from their burgeoning prog instincts, letting them reach full flower on "The Teacher," a ten-minute mini-suite that collapses in a wave of white noise. These are arty accents on an album that embraces
the Foos' arena rock instincts so closely, it sometimes recalls the brawniness of
The Colour and the Shape. That 1997 record was the last time
Grohl drummed on a
Foo Fighters album, a role he takes here out of a matter of necessity, but his presence behind the kit gives
But Here We Are a distinctive pulse, lending it muscle and heart. While the former is expected from
Grohl, it's the latter that makes the album compelling. In its grand gestures and small touches -- such as the presence of
Grohl's daughter
Violet on the sweet ballad "Show Me How" --
But Here We Are keeps its focus on human connection, a distinction that separates it from other
Foo Fighters albums. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine