Foo Fighters, “But Here We Are.”

But Here We Are is the concept record the Foo Fighters never wanted to make.

But a year after the tragic loss of their brother and hyperdrive engine for a quarter century, drummer Taylor Hawkins, they made it. This first album since 2021’s Medicine at Midnight is a bittersweet accomplishment and easily the most meaningful music the band has made.

It’s a remembrance, an existential examination, and a loud statement they’re still here, and still love their friend. Even with Grohl returning to the studio drum throne – as he did on the band’s first two records – the big musical question is how different will the Foos sound now?

Not only because Hawkins’ creative force, humor and electric presence is missing – technically, but not in spirit, the band would say – but also in how his death affects these new Foos in the ever-important spirit of creating music. Every song is about him, and one gets the feeling they won’t be the last.

Of course, many great bands lose someone prematurely at some point, often to the rock and roll lifestyle. Some keep marching in death’s wake; some can’t. But the Foos have a different set of dynamics. They’re five guys (six, since the recent anointment of Josh Freese on drums), but it’s always been Grohl’s band.

Grohl, who was already a legend before there were Foo Fighters, gleefully chose Hawkins after previous drummer William Goldsmith wasn’t good enough to replace Grohl on the second record in 1997. Hawkins was a different story. The lovable SoCal golden stoner boy with a big lopsided smile who could beat the shit out of rock drums as well as Grohl. And as great as Hawkins was on drums, his greatest worth was Grohl’s best friend, soul brother and work husband. It was the only band in the world where the two most indispensable members were two of the greatest drummers alive (even if Grohl rarely played drums). That must’ve been hilarious to them.

So yes, the whole album is a Hawkins tribute. At times, it’s glorious. At times, it just sounds like the Foo Fighters. Which is great, considering where they were a year ago.
There was never any real doubt they’d come back, instead of pulling a Led Zeppelin. Grohl is the cattle dog of rock and roll: His energy is infectious, he can’t stop working, and everyone loves him.

But Here We Are has more urgency, meaning and focus, obviously. If one was hoping for a creative silver lining in Hawkins’ terrible death, it was that the Foos would be slapped awake by their new reality and find new inspiration. That has been necessary for years.

The music is there, consistently good and at times very well-built on sad magic. Some of these songs will be amazing live, because of the time and circumstances in which they were built, buoyed by love and memories.

Opener “Rescued” is an instant statement the Foos are still here, with a typical upbeat power-pop and rock single. They’re still consistent rockers who know where a well-timed vocal hook and an occasional tempo change goes.

“Under You” is solid pop, with lots of self-reflection and Grohl wondering if he’ll ever climb out from under tragedy, with lyrics focused on getting over loss and how his loved one will be remembered. Some days he doesn’t know what to do, and he sings so.

“Hearing Voices” is more good pop-rock, with Grohl ruminating on how he’s hearing voices, and “none of them are you.” It gets raw when he simply admits, “I wish you were” and “Nothing like you could last forever.”

Title track “But Here We Are” sounds like a bit of musical filler, despite the subject matter of someone confronting reality. “The Glass” shows Grohl’s inevitable Beatles influence, which is a reliable formula to fall back on every so often.

“Nothing at All” reminds us there’s still drums in a Foo Fighters song, even if Grohl mostly plays, understandably, like he doesn’t want to step on anyone’s toes the whole record. It’s a simple, but nicely built, pop song that evolved into a bit of a fun rocker.

“Show Me How” is dream-pop, with lovely harmonies from Grohl’s 17-year-old daughter, Violet, reminding us the Foos are a big family (Hawkins’ 17-year-old son, Shane, sat in with the band May 26 at its Boston show). It’s contrasted by power ballad “Beyond Me,” on which Grohl pleads for understanding, first accompanied by piano building into another effective Beatle-esque progression. “It’s just beyond me,” Grohl wails. “You must release what you hold dear.”

That sets up the huge “The Teacher.” Yes, getting existential on the record’s most epic song was an easy call. But it’s a necessary grand gesture. The song breathes deeply, asking “Hey kid/ What’s the plan for tomorrow?/ Where will I wake up?” Then, like a train gaining speed for the long haul, it takes off with great dynamics and enough fuel to last for 10 minutes, the longest Foo Fighters song ever.

It’s really the first great epic Foos song since “Everlong,” with Grohl asking at various times, “Show me how to say goodbye” and wondering “how to grieve.” He sings quietly and melodically that “everything turns” and “lessons learned,” yet adds more vocal heft when necessary.

And just when you think they can’t put more into it, the Foos close with “Rest,” an incredibly raw emotional message from Grohl to Hawkins (that, sadly, could become this generation’s “I Will Remember You” by Sarah McLaughlin). “Rest, you can rest now/ Rest, you will be safe now,” Grohl sings sadly, over acoustic guitar.

Then, of course – because Hawkins loved Queen so much – comes a big, grand theatrical surprise that’s emotionally twisting and epic and makes you want to cry.
It’s a beautiful song and a beautiful record; the best tribute they could’ve given their friend. We should all be loved so much.

Follow music critic Tony Hicks at Twitter.com/TonyBaloney1967.