 THE BEAT: Dave Grohl serenades his parents during slamming Patriot Center show
Before my train of thought got derailed at The Rolling Stones concert last Thursday, I had scribbled in my notepad, "The phenomenal Lisa Fischer -- trading deep growls with Mick." The song, for those who missed it, was "Night Time Is the Right Time," a Ray Charles classic that Fischer infused with unbelievable sex appeal. Bumping pelvises with Jagger during the sultry number didn't hurt, either.
It was immediately after that performance that the now-infamous bomb scare occurred, and in my haste with deadlines and breaking news, Fischer's contribution to the show got lost amid the other nonsense. I forgot to mention her then. I want to do it now.
She's an awesome singer. If you're attending other shows on this tour, don't make a snack run during her stage time. And now, my memories of the Stones at Scott Stadium -- mostly unmoving traffic, too much sweat and unusable phones in the press box -- are officially tucked away.
Fast-forward a few musical decades to this week's big show -- at least for 8,200 bouncing college kids, a few parents and some ancient thirtysomethings -- the Foo Fighters and Weezer at the Patriot Center on Monday.
It was homecoming for Virginia native Dave Grohl, head Foo and monster presence. Hard to believe his post-Nirvana band has existed for a decade, but it's true -- that "Big Me" fake Mentos commercial really is that old.
Interestingly, the Foo Fighters have opted not to play the breezy tune this tour, so the dweeb rockers in Weezer claimed it during their opening set. Hang tight, Weezer fans, I'll get to them.
There is so much to love about the shaggy, hyper Grohl, especially the reality that even though so many Foo songs burst with melody, he's really a little metal head at heart. His ragged screams of "Mine is yours and yours is mine. There is no divide. In your honor, I would die tonight" opened "In Your Honor," challenged only by the pounding locomotive beat of superior skins-man Taylor Hawkins.
Listening to Grohl's Ozzy-in-his-prime roaring at the beginning of "My Hero" -- fit in between sprints around the stage -- effortlessly dip into something pretty before building to a new round of yelling is testament to the guy's writing ability. The Foos music might be the Van Halen for the this young generation, but Grohl will always be more James Hetfield than David Lee Roth.
That isn't to say his goofball personality didn't have ample opportunity to shine. With his parents seated at the soundboard, Grohl ordered the spotlight turned on them and launched into a litany of his "Virginia stories" -- getting pulled over on Route 50 with a suspended license at 17; the glories of the Krispy Kreme doughnut, now available on the West Coast, where he currently lives; getting high at George Mason University.
No wonder he said to his parents before serenading them, "I'm sorry for all of the [stuff] I put you through."
In 80 minutes, Grohl and the rest of the band -- Hawkins, guitarist Chris Shiflett and bassist Nate Mendel -- tore through favorites "Learn to Fly," the rock version of "Times Like These" and "Stacked Actors," with Grohl unrelenting in his power riffing. The guy is in it for the rock, plain and simple.
Weezer, meanwhile, shuffled meekly onto the stage with "When You Wish Upon a Star" playing overhead -- the perfect introduction for a group of guys in cords and black-rimmed glasses.
Frontman Rivers Cuomo, a kook among kooks, seemed to enjoy the attention thrown at him from the first words of "My Name Is Jonas," while "Don't Let Go" demonstrated the poppy side of the band's arsenal, which fluctuates between New Wave-ish rock and garage-punk cacophony.
What endears Cuomo and his mates to these young navel-gazers is his deflated ego ("There's the pitch, slow and straight. All I have to do is swing and I'm a hero, but I'm a zero," he sang convincingly on "Perfect Situation").
Whenever he paced the stage, it was with one hand stuffed into his pocket and a slightly hunched posture, and when he ripped out a mini guitar solo at the end of "Perfect," it was done with the kind of face-scrunching achieved from years of practicing in the bathroom mirror.
Weezer's take on the Foo's "Big Me" might be worth scouring the bootleg community but only for the novelty aspect. Cuomo's monotone, whiny delivery added nothing special to the song, unlike his use of the Peter Frampton/Richie Sambora talk box on the band's current hit, "Beverly Hills," which, by the way, sounds awfully similar to its other chugging pseudo-rap, "El Scorcho."
Weezer also adopted Green Day's current we-really-care maneuver and brought an audience member onstage to play with the band. Of course it's cool, but if one more band adopts the stunt, the coolness is truly defunct.
But do you think a band that built its fame on songs such as "Buddy Holly" and "Undone -- The Sweater Song" really cares about image? Nah. But as long as they keep crafting such cheeky hoots as the new single, "We Are All On Drugs," they can be as geeky as they wanna be. |
