Having just watched the episode of Sonic Highways devoted to showcasing Los Angeles, I guess that it is safe to say that Dave Grohl was just the wrong guy to tell that story. I mean, he lives in Los Angeles, but has no real history with the city.
That's because he only arrived in L.A. once he became one of the untouchables, so to speak. By that, I mean, when I go out, I have to stand in line, pay cover, buy my own drinks, worm my way into the VIP room with a well-placed Benjamin only to see Dizzy Reed with his wig off. Grohl hasn't had to pay cover since 1990.
My hunch has always been that, for all his "everyman" posing, Grohl lives in L.A. because it's still where the industry is based and there is no greater industry schmoozer than Dave Grohl. If he'd put down the drum sticks after Nirvana, he'd have no doubt gotten into the business side and, dollars to donuts, would be the alt. rock Shep Gordon.
And, like Shep Gordon (who lives on a $20 million estate in Hawaii), Grohl has no real affinity for the town. As a result, we see the obligatory nod to the Doors (please, God, no), a respectful nod to the Runaways (please, God, yes), and Rodney Bingenheimer (a real-life Forrest Gump, whose own story would leave every last one of us screaming "NO WAY!").
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| Joe Walsh unleashing solo in the kitchen of Rancho de Luna |
I understand Dave's desire to talk about some of the bands that came out of that town, but what about the Long Beach skate/surf scene (Sublime, Jack Johnson et al), or GNR and Jane's Addiction sticking a knife in hair metal at the tail-end of the '80s and exposing L.A.'s empty, blackened soul to the world? What about gangsta rap?
No, let's not do any of that, let's talk about the Germs some more.
Thankfully, a majority of the episode is spent out in the desert, where the otherworldly landscape gave way to abject boredom, which led to pool parties with no water, but a metric shit-ton of great sledgehammer rock & roll.
After hearing about how Daniel Lanois had essentially gifted a bunch of recording equipment to Fred Drake and Dave Catching's desert musical paradise and seeing how fucking invested these guys were in letting their musical freak flags fly, it's a bit encouraging to see the Foos unveil one of the better songs from this whole endeavor. I, for sure, predicted Dave Grohl to come out and try to out-heavy Kyuss, but I was pleasantly proven wrong as Dave & Co. turned in a song that had some atmosphere and wasn't just a 'roid-rage redux of Nirvana's quiet-loud-quiet-LOUD aesthetic.