DAMN, DAVE, YOU'RE DISAPPOINTING
The "nicest guy in rock"? Not really.
Barely three months ago, I wrote that Dave Grohl needed a redemption arc when he basically disappeared from public view following his “baby mama” scandal last September.
While I wasn’t at all surprised that Dave cheated on his wife—he’s cheated on EVERY WOMAN HE’S EVER BEEN WITH—I was very disappointed in him. And disappointment is the hardest emotion to get over, because it never fully goes away.
There are things I know about Dave Grohl that I haven’t shared out of respect for his relationship with his daughters, and I’m still going to keep those private because they’ve been through enough.
It’s also not easy for me to publicly share my complicated feelings for the guy, because of the massive amounts of criticism it’s brought me over the years. I also always wanted to keep the door open in the hopes we’d get to speak again someday. I’m not a stalker or a groupie, I haven’t been in touch with him in forever, and the hots I had for him permanently cooled during the first Obama administration. I still cared about him as a person, and I never stopped loving his band thanks to my special personal connection. I also have never wanted him to get mad at me, because I know what happens when he gets mad at someone.
Yet despite what I’ve always known about how he conducts his extracurricular life, it was still shocking to me that he didn’t protect himself or his family better. There were a lot of “he’s rich enough to afford a vasectomy” comments, which you can’t argue with.
I know his marriage is really none of our business, and I don’t know his wife beyond a couple of awkward interactions dating back to 2003—and that was thanks to Dave telling her I was “one who got away,” (not THE one, just “one”) because he’s kind of an asshole like that— but I was also shocked to see they stayed together after the baby thing. Why would she put up with that, internet people asked, for money?
I’ve always believed his private life, his marriage, and their family belong to him and Jordyn, not us, so I was careful when I posted about the 4th daughter, because of our unique meet-cool story inspiring my book The Sound Of Settling (we’ll come back to that in a bit). They’re healing as a family, good for them. It’s got nothing to do with anyone else.
However, what happens with Foo Fighters is a different story.
Because the band belongs to us, the fans.
They’ve been “MY band” since 1995, and after 30 years of devotion, I can’t just ignore what’s happened to them since we lost Taylor Hawkins three years ago. So I’m taking back most of what I wrote, because redemption isn’t going to happen any time soon now that Dave has disappointed us again.
If you don’t know anything about Josh Freese, the Google can tell you plenty about all of the bands he’s played with during his amazing career. What it can’t tell you is how his affable personality and humor meshed so well with the surviving Foos. It was perfectly captured in his formal introduction as their drummer after they released their first album without Taylor, But Here We Are. Dave played all the drum parts on the record, and it’s a really good album. But he wasn’t going to do the Don Henley/Phil Collins thing of singing AND drumming on tour, so he got the next best drummer alive instead.
If you’re a long-time Foo fan, you can occasionally hear the differences between Taylor and Josh, but it’s barely noticeable to the casual listener. By the time they hit Portland last August, they sounded pretty tight to me, despite Josh’s style slightly changing some of the dynamics in “Aurora”—my favorite Foo song, which was also Taylor’s favorite. Dave was also smoking a lot on stage and often drank from a bottle of red wine, but he was also really happy to see me at the rail. He didn’t know it, but it had been nearly ten full years since I had seen Foo Fighters live. I was just happy he recognized me and was happy to see me. You can’t fake that kind of reaction.
Later in the show, he gave me this cute little secret wave. I felt it in my chest because I’m an idiot and he’s a jerk.
I was a little bummed he didn’t send me a backstage pass after that. We hadn’t spoken since 2009. I have definitely tried to get back in touch with him over the years via social media because I no longer have an email for him, but not because I wanted him. I wanted answers.
I had sent him a copy of The Sound of Settling that January for his birthday via one of his roadies, who had given me the mailing address for their studio and assured me that Dave “knows about it.” Does he? I’ll probably never know, because I got nothing from Dave. Disappointing, but he’s busy. So after that show, life went on (and I went to the DNC two days later).
Now I know his 4th daughter had been born just 10 days before the band was in Portland. That’s why he was drinking and smoking so much while still doing the Rock Star Bravado thing. Maybe that’s why he didn’t send me a pass, he didn’t want to see the disappointment on my face by telling me about the 4th daughter. He wouldn’t have had to share that with me, by the way. All I would’ve wanted was to ask him the burning questions that have been living in my brain for more than two decades:
HOW did you find me on the Foo postboard?
WHY ME? (one time, I sort of asked, and he said, “Because you’re the biggest fuckin’ sweetheart and you’re such a fuckin’ fox” but I didn’t get to follow it up with “But HOW did you know I was a sweetheart? What posts did you read, what pictures did you see?”
Did I inspire you to write “Times Like These,” but you couldn’t tell anyone it was me because you didn’t want to have to tell Jordyn it was me, even though you weren’t even married yet? Is that why you said it was “written on tour in a hotel room in Portland” in the “Back and Forth” documentary?
I know the answer to that last one, by the way. I know I saved Foo Fighters. I know I gave Dave 20 more years with Taylor. I KNOW.
Yes, I think Dave Grohl owes me millions of dollars that I’ll probably never get. I don’t want all of his money, but I think I deserve the credit and a little scratch so I never have to worry about rent ever again while his family gets to fly around in a private jet. I’m just saying.
BUT ANYWAY, the news about Dave firing Josh Freese (while remaining best friends with very credibly accused wife-and-child-beater Josh Homme) isn’t sitting well with me and a lot of other fans. Dave is the one who makes the decisions about Foo Fighters. It’s HIS band. The revolving door of guitarists and drummers early in their history is an obvious indicator that it’s The Grohl’s way or the highway. Publicly, he tries to come off as the nicest guy in rock, but his private behavior indicates otherwise.
The truth is, I haven’t been able to listen to ANY Foo Fighters music since I found out about the 4th daughter. Every song feels like a lie, which I know is weird to say, but it just does.
I mean, even Richard Butler from the Psychedelic Furs weighed in—on MY Facebook post, no less!
I’m not going to argue with Richard Butler, but then there’s also this.
Seriously, I was NEVER, EVER going to get a Foo Fighters tattoo. I’m not in the band, even though I SAVED THE BAND. But when Taylor died, I really thought they were over forever, because who could possibly replace that most beautiful of humans? Hence, the “TH” at the bottom. The tatt is much bigger than I had intended for it to be, and now I’m trying to decide what to do. Leave it? Make it into a hawk, for Hawkins? Should I turn the two F’s into trees, because I live in Portland? Or make it just a big black circle because I’m just kind of done?
And then there’s The Sound of Settling. My beloved rock and roll story, aka the best thing I’ve ever written, wouldn’t exist at all if Dave Grohl hadn’t called me out by name at the Troubadour that night in August 2001. I never could have come up with something so incredible on my own. While nothing ever happened between us (which I’m eternally grateful for, because I’m so much better than being a notch on some rock star’s belt), the years of being asked “What if?” questions led me to make up a whole book of fictitious answers. There are lots of Foo Fighters Easter eggs all through it and the follow-up, Heavy Meddling, which I only wrote because my readers kept demanding a sequel. I even queried Dave’s agent because it made sense to me, but she’s kind of an asshole too, which is why I’m STILL trying to get an agent so I can make both books into the streaming series I can fully see and hear in my poor brain (which is another Foo Easter egg).
I don’t know how to promote my book without using his name, but I never wanted to have to use his name to promote my book in the first place. I thought the story and my social media connectivity would’ve gotten me somewhere by now, but nope. Using his name before all this shit happened didn’t help, so his newly tarnished rep definitely won’t help now.
Also not helping: Trump setting the whole world on fire. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to get anywhere with my beloved book, no matter how many famous people have a copy. That won’t stop me from trying, because I know I have a commercial hit on my hands.
Maybe Dave Grohl does need a redemption arc, but it won’t come easily. The “nicest” guy in rock hasn’t been all that nice lately, and he could be a lot nicer to me. The optimistic part of me that’s been hoping to get back in touch with him is smaller than it’s ever been, but I also have a fairly forgiving nature once people make it right (another Foo Easter egg!).
For now, I’ll be on Team Freese while still hoping to get that proper publishing deal, with or without Dave recording a specific song for the streaming series (even if I can hear it in my head, just like I told him I could hear him singing “Heroes,” which inspired him to write “Times Like These”).
But hey, what do I know, right? It’s not like he once liked me or anything.
