Foo Fighters
Medicine At Midnight

THE REVIEW

Much has been discussed in the months leading up to the release of this new work by the Foo Fighters, their tenth studio album.

Dave Grohl and crew wanted to celebrate their twenty-five years of career in grand style (tour, festivals, and more), but this damned pandemic got in the way, so everything was postponed, including the release of nine new songs collected under the name “Medicine At Midnight.” Grohl’s pre-release statements teased the appetite of the American band's fans: after the first sessions (in a rented house in Encino) described by the leader himself as “fuckin’ weird,” rumors followed (fueled by the frontman himself) suggesting it would be the “Let's Dance” of the Foo Fighters, thus marking a clear line of demarcation with the past.

Did it really turn out that way? Yes and no. In the sense that definitely a nice refresh has been given, but the beating heart of the album is absolutely and undeniably Foo Fighters. There is certainly a funkier attitude (“Cloudspotter”) and a more danceable vibe in several tracks on the album; in the title track, for example, there are chases of fascination between Talking Heads and Bowie, but the structure of the piece is very close to what Grohl and company did on albums like “There Is Nothing Left To Lose” (the same goes for “Holding Poison,” which is a straightforward rock). The opener “Making A Fire,” however, with its unusual female choruses (featuring Grohl's daughter, Violet), carries an undeniable Kravitz flavor.

The single “Shame Shame” is the darkest and most experimental piece (by the band's standards) and relies almost entirely on the groove, a curious choice as the lead single for such an anticipated album; they try to compensate with the Motorhead-esque stab “No Son Of Mine” (declared homage to the late Lemmy, with a pinch of Rammstein in the riff) and especially “Waiting On A War,” a folk rock crescendo to shout at the sky with a guitar-climbing finale. “Chasing Birds” is one hundred percent McCartney, while “Love Dies Young” closes joyfully and fiercely upbeat, ending not far from that “New Way Home” that triumphantly closed the spectacular “The Colour And The Shape.”

A great album, with which the Foos consolidate themselves (if they needed to); only the full stadiums ready to embrace such quality stadium rock are missing, but that (unfortunately) is another story.

Best track: Holding Poison