My favourite Foo Fighters album is There is Nothing Left to Lose. Where its predecessors felt like decidedly Dave Grohl-centred projects, and later albums leaned more and more into a stadium rock vibe, their third outing felt like the perfect encapsulation of who the band were on a whole – hard rockers (Stacked Actors), a radio friendly alternative act (Learn to Fly) and just a couple of guys who understood how important home is, wherever or whatever you call home (Aurora).
It’s also the first album on which Taylor Hawkins came aboard as their full-time drummer.
His passing’s hit me a whole lot harder than I thought it would and I think it’s because of this album. There is Nothing Left to Lose was a warm blanket for a seventeen-year-old to hide under and get lost in on lazy Saturday afternoons. Its track listing felt specifically designed to lead you out of chaos and into comfort, reaching its peak with Next Year.
Next Year was the first track I thought of when I read that Taylor had passed. It’s a song that I’ve listened to on those lazy Saturdays, a song that’s played in the background while I wrote or on my CD player while I commuted, a song that’s felt like home, a song that I’ve cried to – and, yeah, of course a song whose first drum beats at the thirty-second mark I’ve air-drummed to countless of times before.
It’s a song that’s been there, either front and centre or close by, for so many things across more than half my life – and, in that way, so has Taylor, I guess.