It was the summer of 1997, I was seventeen, I was a sucker for rock n’roll, even tough I was one of those kids that never got into grunge, because I was too young when it was happening (even though Nevermind by Nirvana was one of my favourites records). I knew the Foo Fighters, I loved their first record, it was my record for 1995, it marked my first year in highschool. When I realized there was a second album I gathered some money (hey, buying a cd was hard those days) and got on a bus to the city to buy it, just because I could not find any shop in the suburbs that had it.
I already knew some of the songs on it, I taped a concert a month before it got out, and already loved it. It was the record of the summer for me, even though everyone else was listening to something else (at the time I was always hooked on something else, trends did not like me and I did not like them).
There’s not much to talk about it, I knew the lyrics to every single song, and by the end of that summer, I was a Foo Fighters fanatic, gathering magazines, buying singles, making my friends listen to it. I remember, it was because of the Foo Fighters that I got interested on the Internet, I wanted to know more.
In the summer of 1998 I saw them live, at the Expo’98, on the first row, and I was happy for about a week, maybe more. I still remember that night vividly, I think it was my first real rock n’roll concert. I still keep some pictures of it, and newspaper clippings.
I still love that record, it reminds me of high school and of the friends of that time, the hot summer, the Algarve, but the band itself doesn’t mean anything to me anymore. I even missed their last two concerts, last year, when they replaced Guns n Roses on the hideous Rock in Rio festival, and this year, just a few weeks ago, when they played Paredes de Coura festival. Their last two albums suck a lot and I wish Dave Grohl had taken a different path, but hey, that’s life.