Anybody as obsessed with musical chops as
Dave Grohl
would inevitably drift toward prog rock, which is precisely what happens with
Foo Fighters
on their ninth album. Perhaps "prog" doesn't seem like an easy fit for
, who have melded furious noise with candied melodies since their 1995 debut, but
Concrete and Gold
is filled with showy accents that accentuate the acumen of all six musicians. Hooks abound, whether they're in the grinding guitars or triple-stacked vocal harmonies, but they're not molded into songs that resemble tunes. Take "Dirty Water," which begins as a piece of dreamy twilight psychedelia but winds up as a cloistered vamp goosed along by analog synths straight out of 1975. It's as if
the Foos
are so impatient to offer a twist they'll sabotage a straight song with a quick left turn or gleeful self-indulgence. Coming after
Sonic Highways
, where the group stuck to the straight and narrow, it's frankly a bit of a relief to have
offer an album full of detours, even if they're winding up redefining the character of the band. Plenty of familiar elements are in place -- "Run" speeds by with hardcore velocity, the tightly wound riffs on "Make It Right" function as a virtual
Josh Homme
tribute, "The Line" can serve as inspirational rock for long drives or workouts -- but
piece them together in a way that suggests the bandmembers are bored with themselves. Add to that harmonies straight out of
Abbey Road
-- not just vocals but stacked guitars -- and allusions to the slow, spacy crawl of
Pink Floyd
, highlighted by how
comes crashing into focus in a fashion similar to "In the Flesh?" and crawls to a close with an extended
Dark Side of the Moon
salute. In between,
show that they're in love with light and shade, fury and quiet, every twist and turn they can make with their instruments, and even if
isn't about much more than that, it's refreshing to hear
embrace
Grohl
's allegiance to real rock values to the logical flashing conclusion. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine