Foo Fighters continue to fight on with electrifying rock

The Inglewood sun is setting and the sky takes on a blood orange hue. It is a dramatic scene fit for an evening with the Foo Fighters at The Forum, a venue that bears uncanny resemblance to the Roman Coliseum.  

The average age of the concert-goers is predictably a little older than, say, that of a Drake concert. Still, the wide-reaching appeal of the Foo Fighters is made apparent by the mix of young, old and really old faces. One bearded man in his ‘70s wears a giant smile as he walks around, beer in hand, in a Motorhead T-Shirt. A few feet away a young girl proudly displays her “Dave Grohl is My Hero” shirt.

I get a $13 cheesesteak and wait for the show to begin. Entering The Forum, I’m immediately reminded that the Foo Fighters are one of the biggest rock bands in the world. Stadium rock is still alive. Hanging over the stage is a giant wall of speakers, menacingly facing the audience, threatening to melt everyone’s faces off.

With no warning, the lights dim.

The small portion of the crowd that is actually inside the stadium howls their approval. The opening act, blues-rocker Gary Clark Jr. takes the stage and without hesitation jumps into a heavy-hitting jam session — pure, unfettered rock ‘n’ roll. The audience is transported to the deep south as Clark churns out his soulful blues licks. The bassist to his right wears a poncho and cowboy boots, completing the pastoral aesthetic. Clark’s shrieking guitar finds its way into your bones, and the rhythm of the bass drum becomes your heartbeat.

Clark transitions from high octane blues rock to smooth ballad and back again as the crowd steadily fills the stadium. During his finale, Clark kicks his fingers into overdrive and delivers his most impressive solo. Yellow lights turn on and move through the crowd. Then, just as unceremoniously as they entered, Gary Clark Jr. and his band exit the stage.

The lights come on and a Foo Fighters flag tumbles down. The crowd roars. They eagerly anticipate the arrival of former Nirvana drummer and current Foo Fighters frontman Dave Grohl and his crew.

After a 20-minute intermission, a familiar scream pierces the audience’s ears. The lights dim. The crowd goes wild as the curtain drops and the Foo’s break into “All My Life.” The tour is called the “Broken Leg Tour,” simply because Grohl has a broken leg. What does Dave Grohl make out of the situation? As usual, he makes it the stuff of legend. Center-stage Grohl sits on a magnificent throne, rocking harder than some singers with two fully functional legs. There could be no better symbolism for the Foo Fighter’s endurance. Many bands have come and gone since 1995, but the Foo Fighters have persisted. For the last two decades, they have been one of the most consistent bands in rock, never failing to produce another hit, another great album.

Dave’s throne glides from the main down a runway to a mini stage in the middle of the mosh pit. It is a ridiculous and hilarious spectacle. Dave relishes it. He pauses takes a look around. The crowd eats it up. The Foo Fighters jump into their next song.

Dave’s singing has also held up surprisingly well. He still has a killer scream, which he shows off any chance he gets.

Relentlessly, the Foo plays hit after hit — “Learn to Fly,” “Times Like These,” “My Hero,” and more. They are obviously not tired of playing these songs, and their fans are not tired of hearing them. They sing along with songs released in 1997 and songs released just last year. It doesn’t matter — Foo Fighters will always be Foo Fighters.

During the interlude of the 2007 classic “The Pretender” Dave’s throne is transported front and center once again, and he begins interacting with the crowd, as he is known to do at concerts.

“I love it when a crowd this big makes me sweat so f—-g much.”

“Turn the lights up I wanna see you.” The crowd rages and throws their Dio horns up. Dave approves and does a little broken-leg dance, while guitarist Pat Smear revs up a solo.

“I wanna see the energy like this all night. Can we do this all night?” The crowd roars in deafening affirmation.

When the song finally ended after three minutes more of jamming, the audience gave a solid two-minute ovation. One would think the concert just ended. The crowd more than fulfilled its promise of keeping the energy high throughout the night.

“I almost had to cancel this tour because of this little incident,” Dave tells the crowd towards the end of the show. “But that wasn’t gonna happen. I got a throne, and here we are.” The crowd shows their appreciation. “Kids, make a band and get a throne. Because in my 20 years of touring with the Foo Fighters, I’ve never had more fun.”

And he meant it. It’s been 20 years, and the Foo Fighters show no sign of letting up.