Tag: Dave Grohl

  • Kaki King’s Busker Therapy

    If you know Kaki King, you know her as a guitar player. A special one. A rare breed of genreless six-string (rather than five-button) Guitar Hero: young, female, Southern, and slight of stature. Her facility has been freshly flaunted and recently rewarded by no less than a Golden Globe nomination for her soundtrack work on […]

  • Yes, Dave Grohl Can Rock the Garden

    In arena rock, as in politics, we vote for the candidate we’d most enjoy having a beer with. This, invariably, means Dave Grohl. He is enormously likable, this Dave Grohl. Jovial, profane, hirsute. A svelte Bob Seger with prodigious night moves and a fire down below, dispensing that old-time rock ‘n’ roll down on Main […]

  • Me, Myself & Iréne

    An introverted yet eccentric French road movie–romance, When the Sea Rises possesses a scattershot charm, a distanced attitude toward comedy and context that is less likely a conscious style than the result of neophyte filmmakers testing their thin ice. And not just any first-timers: Co-writer/director Gilles Porte may be an experienced cinematographer, but Yolande Moreau, […]

  • Go Your Own Way

    With Nick Olivieri and Dave Grohl gonzo, and Mark Lanegan’s contributions limited to 90 seconds, the heart of Queens of the Stone Age, Josh Homme, is all alone in the super-unknown, left to pursue both his grunge-pop monomania and his heretofore disguised love of two-headed-dog-eared horror tropes (“Someone’s in the Wolf,” “Burn the Witch”) and […]

  • The Drowned Baby

    A three-CD-plus-DVD set added to the canon: pretty fancy for a band that only made three albums. Or maybe two, since Bleach doesn’t really count. Two? One big one. Actually, their reputation is balanced on one song. (That would be “Frances Farmer Will Have Her Revenge on Seattle,” of course, here in the alternate universe.) […]

  • Powerpop Drummer Unites Metal Has-Beens Who Can’t Sing

    Gather up the musty chaff and you’ll be smelt above the moon. So maybe baling the perishers of ’80s perisher-metal together seemed like a good idea to Dave Grohl. And many have been willing to uphold the fancy because Grohl’s such an amiable dunce, good for booboisie sidesplitters like: “[face it], the quiet/loud dynamic that’s […]

  • Le Freak, C’est Chic

    If you think Karl Lagerfeld looks weird in pictures, then you should see him in person. Around midnight, nearly three hours into the Visionaire/Chanel party at the Tribeca Grand on Tuesday, the already buzzing roomful of fashionistas buzzed even louder. “Karl is here!” His entrance took some pressure off Christina Ricci, who up to that […]

  • Born to Be Alive

    By now, you’ve seen this image everywhere: a greasy-haired, fucked-up, metalhead-looking kid with blood pouring out of his nose and running over his mouth and chin, and a worn, yet somehow gloriously undefeated look in his eyes. Maybe you were jarred awake one recent Sunday night, in the middle of 120 Minutes, and found yourself […]

  • Calling All Trolls

    With an appearance on South Park under his belt, Dave Grohl wearing his T-shirt onstage, and “Holy Diver” the only experiment that didn’t suck Satan’s penis on Pat Boone’s 1997 lounge-metal CD, Ronnie James Dio could almost be mistaken for hip. So if you’re a troll lurking under a bridge, a goblin molesting a fairy […]

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    Foo Fighters There is Nothing Left to Lose RCA You’ve got to feel bad for Dave Grohl. He’s never going to achieve the classically-disjointed, revolution-starting rumblings of the era that spawned him. It’s not his fault; he just writes songs that are too damn catchy. With a voice that’s more ’70s-smooth Dan England than post-punk […]