I’d waited an exceptionally long time to see Foo Fighters live. While I’ve certainly tried to catch them a few times before, plans were always thwarted by things like money, family emergencies and… fire marshals. On Friday Oct. 20, the stars aligned in my little musical universe and I found myself with fantastic seats for my favorite band. Do I wish I’d seen them 20 years sooner? Sure. But was it worth the wait? Heck yeah.
U.S. Bank Arena seemed evenly split when frontman Dave Grohl asked fans who had seen Foo Fighters live before and who was new. And, admittedly, his chastising of newbies got to me. It shouldn’t have taken so long. Halfway through the set, the band had already hammered its way through some of its biggest hits. If they’d stopped right at that moment, not a single person would have left disappointed. Sure, we’d have missed “Monkey Wrench” and “Everlong.” But we’d already gotten, “My Hero,” “The Pretender” and “Run,” the blistering first single from their new album, Concrete and Gold. It was already everything any Foo fan could have ever asked for.
And then it became more — because they played for another hour and a half. For three solid hours, Grohl (who, whether he’ll admit it or not, will be 49 in January) ran up and down the length of the stage, sang and screamed his heart out and played hard… he played so hard. Drummer Taylor Hawkins’ arms never stopped flailing. How much Red Bull does that guy put away? Between melting faces, they also found time to share stories and heckle fans. In one night, Grohl and the boys blew through more than two dozen songs and blew me away.
They made me cry, too. I hate girls who cry at concerts. HATE. THEM. I’m not ashamed to admit that I’ve turned to a friend during a concert and told her, “Shut it down.” No one goes to a concert for a good, cathartic cry. They go to party. They go to stomp, thrash, scream. Crying is for funerals and therapists’ offices. At least that’s what I’d always thought until Foo Fighters started in on 1997’s “My Hero.” Don’t get me wrong. It’s a beautiful song. But it’s not even a song to which I’m emotionally attached. I’m not sure if it was the intensity of my own personal moment (finally seeing Foo Fighters) or that of the atmosphere around me (hearing thousands of others sing along emotionally). It got me right in the feels, though, and shook me all the way to my core. I guess I’m a girl who cries at concerts now.
Of course, I’m also a girl who screams really loud at concerts. That is, apparently, something I share with the rest of you MFers. Y’all were rowdy! In case you didn’t catch it, Grohl said Cincinnati’s crowd was the loudest on tour and I don’t think he was just stroking our ego. The show was amazing — everything I could have ever wanted from this long-awaited concert and more. Foo Fighters did not let me down. But, Cincinnati, neither did you. There was a rumble in U.S. Bank Arena like I’d never experienced before and of which you should be oh-so proud.
Standing there screaming with you, experiencing Foo Fighters for the first time, two things were 100 percent clear: Foo Fighters are perfect… and we’re really not so bad ourselves.
This article appears in Oct 18-25, 2017.