The Colour & The Shape

Foo Fighters

Capitol Records, 1997

REVIEW BY: Hansen Olson

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED: 10/26/1997

Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. This is my first confession since I bought that Rick Springfield album. What did you say? Penance? Yes, Father, I completed my penance for that sin approximately a year ago. Don't you think making me crawl on my knees to CBGB's was a little rough, though? No, Father. It'll never happen again. I even got rid of my Journey albums. Thank you, Father. I feel blessed!

Or, at least, I did feel blessed. Now I've got another problem. I don't think God will be able to forgive me for this one. You see, I have blasphemed. I have turned away from the Holy One. No, Father, not Eddie Cochran. God forbid.bim_ad_daily_vault_print_250

Father, I have turned away from St. Kurt of the Northwest.

I don't know what happened. I know what everyone says. I know that I'm supposed to believe that Nirvana was the one band that changed the face of music forever. I know that St. Kurt was supposed to be the soul of the band. I have listened to From The Muddy Banks Of The Wishkah continuously. But, all I keep hearing are those drums. They've taken over my soul. I want to shout from the rooftops: "St. Kurt is dead. Long live St. Dave!"

Foo Fighters, Father. Foo Fighters. They're all I think about. I've stayed awake through 15 Coolio videos in order to watch "Everlong" one more time. I cried when Pat Smear said goodbye to the band, live on MTV. I even suffered through the Dave Letterman's Top Ten list to see them on "The Late Show." Father, The Colour & The Shape is the best album of 1997. There! I said it and I'm glad I said it. Foo Fighters have all the intensity of Nirvana - all the guitar noise: chaos bordering on ecstasy; all the barely controlled vocals. They also have something else. Foo Fighters have hope.

Foo Fighters don't indulge in free-floating anger for the sake of anger. I know, Father. I went through a period in my life when I loved that anger. I craved it. Then I discovered Prozac. Now I want something that will help me get up in the morning. Foo Fighters do it for me every time. The brisk knife-edge of "Monkey Wrench" and the humorous resignation of "My Poor Brain." Kurt never wrote a line as great as "..sometimes I feel I'm getting stuck; between the handshake and the fuck!" Oops, sorry Padre.

Nothing compares to "Everlong," Father. I haven't been this excited about a song since "Won't Get Fooled Again" in '71. "Everlong" pounds. It soars. It rocks.

God bless me, Father, I think I'm in love with music again. So, what's my penance? What this time? Rent every Courtney Love movie? Make a pilgrimage to Seattle? Hey, Father, where are you going? You're gonna buy the new album??? Ah, Father, truly we are both lost now. May St. Kurt forgive us!

Rating: A

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© 1997 Hansen Olson and The Daily Vault. All rights reserved. Review or any portion may not be reproduced without written permission. Cover art is the intellectual property of Capitol Records, and is used for informational purposes only.