foo! foo! foo!

On Monday night, the Foo Fighters took Montreal’s Bell Centre and its audience of 8,851 by storm. To say I was impressed is to say this winter’s been a little snowy. I had obviously failed to grasp the depth of this band, and I repent. It would appear I wasn’t alone; when Dave Grohl asked the crowd who was seeing the band for the first time, the majority of hands shot up. “Thirteen years, man. Where have you BEEN?” I grovel for forgiveness at the feet of the rock god, and solemnly vow never to miss another one of their shows again.

The Foo Fighters took us on a long, winding ride, through a semi-acoustic set in the round, and through huge anthems that filled every square inch of space in the building, down into your guts and between your toes. After all these years, the spirit of grunge still lives on, in the hair and in the scruffy jeans, but it’s grown into something far more moving. I saw the phoenix rising from the ashes of Nirvana. (I know, I’m a couple of years behind schedule. It happens. Better late than never.) I was hoarse the next day, and I’d do it again in a minute.

As a point of reference, Metallica and Aerosmith were the ones I thought gave the best arena shows; IMHO, both were surpassed on Monday. My friend Peewee places them third, after Pink Floyd and U2. It would appear we weren’t alone in our appreciation; local media referred to the show as “a runaway train”, “a roller-coaster ride”, and my personal favourite, “Hurricane Dave”. Thanks guys.

In six words: Dave Grohl is THE rock god.