But here we are / Foo Fighters.

Enhanced descriptions from Syndetics:

Work is how Dave Grohl processes any major life change, so it should come as no surprise that But Here We Are arrived a little over a year after the unexpected death of Foo Fighters drummer Taylor Hawkins in 2022. Back in 1994, the former Nirvana drummer created the first Foo Fighters album while he was mourning the death of Kurt Cobain, the first move in a career comprised of constant motion. Grief wasn't central to 1995's Foo Fighters. That's not the case on But Here We Are. Loss and sorrow flow through the album's imagery, culminating in the cascading closer "Rest," whose refrain of "you can rest now/you will be safe now" is easy to interpret as a message to Hawkins. Grohl doesn't dwell in the darkness; he faces his bereavement directly, with as clear an eye as he can muster. The candor in the lyrics is matched by the immediacy of the music. Working once again with producer Greg Kurstin, who first came aboard for 2017's Concrete and Gold, Foo Fighters naturally don't indulge in the disco dabbling that marked Medicine at Midnight, but they don't shy away from their burgeoning prog instincts, letting them reach full flower on "The Teacher," a ten-minute mini-suite that collapses in a wave of white noise. These are arty accents on an album that embraces the Foos' arena rock instincts so closely, it sometimes recalls the brawniness of The Colour and the Shape. That 1997 record was the last time Grohl drummed on a Foo Fighters album, a role he takes here out of a matter of necessity, but his presence behind the kit gives But Here We Are a distinctive pulse, lending it muscle and heart. While the former is expected from Grohl, it's the latter that makes the album compelling. In its grand gestures and small touches -- such as the presence of Grohl's daughter Violet on the sweet ballad "Show Me How" -- But Here We Are keeps its focus on human connection, a distinction that separates it from other Foo Fighters albums. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine