Forget all that nonsense about
Dave Grohl
listening to
the Bee Gees
and
ABBA
when writing
Wasting Light
. You can even forget
Bob Mould
's killer cameo on
"Dear Rosemary,"
no matter how seamlessly the
Huesker Due
frontman's patented growl slides into
the Foo Fighters
' roar. What really matters is that nearly ten years after
Songs for the Deaf
,
Josh Homme
's influence finally rears its head on a
Foo Fighters
record,
leading his band of merry marauders -- including
Pat Smear
, who returns to the fold for the first time since 1997's
The Colour and the Shape
-- through the fiercest album they've ever made. Nowhere is
Homme
's tightly defined muscle felt as strongly as it is on
"White Limo,"
a blast of heavy sleaze that's kind of a rewrite of
"You Think I Ain't Worth a Dollar,"
yet
Grohl
isn't thieving -- he's tweaking his frequent bandmate with a song that could have graced
SFTD
or
Them Crooked Vultures
. That sense of humor is welcome on
, nearly as welcome as the guitars that ring loud and long. Things tend to crawl on the ballads, as they usually do on a
Foos
record, but these slower spots have a stately dignity that contrasts well with the untrammeled rock of the rest of the album. Perhaps
Butch Vig
-- working with
for the first time since
Nevermind
(and that's not the only
Nirvana
connection, as
Krist Novoselic
plays bass on
"I Should Have Known"
) -- should take some credit for the ferocious sound of
, but the album isn't
' best since their '90s heyday because of its sound; it's their best collection of songs since
, the kind of record they've always seemed on the verge of delivering but never have. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine