A Love Letter to Melbourne from Dave Grohl and I

A few days ago Liam and I were walking down Carlise Street in Balaclava talking about music, when he asked me which band I’d like to see live. Without hesitating, The Foo Fighters was the first answer out of my mouth.

Long after the conversation ended I mulled over my answer. I’m not the biggest Foo Fighters fan (though I do remember singing along to Best of You a hundred times back when the MuchMusic Top 20 Countdown dominated the family television after school) but I have heaps of respect for the band, and front man Dave Grohl.

But even if you’re not a fan, you’re probably familiar with Everlong, a rock-ballad released in 1997 that went on to become one of the bands biggest hits. It’s a song that has everything: catchy cords, an undeniable guitar solo, beautiful lyrics, and a story about its incarnation, which some have attested to the bands survival and ultimate breakthrough.

There have been heaps of covers and versions of Everlong produced over the years: and there’s two in particular that I love.  

My second favourite version is from a live show the Foo Fighters played at Wembley Stadium in 2007. This version of the song starts slow, with Dave Grohl standing solo with his electric guitar and no backing band.

And I wonder when I sing along with you

If everything could ever feel this real forever

If anything could ever be this good again.

For the first four minutes, Grohl teases the audience, drawing out the cords on his guitar, and singing hauntingly slowly into the mic, as if daring the audience to skip ahead and sing the words back before he lets the music catch up.

When Grohl does finally reach the bridge before the last chorus, the audience is buzzing and reaching for him on their tip toes. I imagine everyone in that 90,000-person crowd was breathless in that moment and ready to shout the words back.

And I wonder when I sing along with you

If everything could ever feel this real forever

If anything could ever be this good again

At four minutes and twenty-three seconds, Grohl finally gives in and the audience gets what they want. They jump and shout and cheer and dance as the band joins in and the stadium explodes into a mess of noise. Watching it back ten years later, the moment still delivers.

So yeah, that’s my second favourite version of Everlong.

My favourite version happened last night.

Sitting in a dim bar, and sipping on $8 Guinness, I was only half-paying attention to the football game I’d tagged along to watch while a band set up in a small corner of The Elephant and Wheelbarrow in St. Kilda. Funny thing about this bar, is was actually one of the first places I went out in the city, joined by the two Brits who sat across from me now.

So much has changed since I arrived in Melbourne last September. And yet, so much has stayed the same.

I was thinking about this when the band started to play: “How about some Foos?” The guitarist said, before launching into the first few cords of Everlong.

This song has followed me through two decades of my life and across countless countries. I hope it stays with me as I set off on my next adventure in a couple short weeks. As the weather finally turns I’m chasing winter in the southern hemisphere. My next stop? Queenstown. I can’t wait to call New Zealand home.

But, a piece of me will remain in Melbourne. While the guitarist strummed along to Everlong and the crowd crooned off-key, I couldn’t help but feel like each strum was in tune with the pulse of the city: the vibrant, sprawling suburbs I’ve been lucky enough to call home.

I’ll miss Melbourne’s spirit, and its unquenchable desire for festivals centered around food. I’ll miss graffitied alleyways and poached eggs on toast in trendy Melbourne cafes. I’ll miss Chapel Street bars, and St. Kilda beach, and the view of the Yarra River from my office window. But most of all I’ll miss the people.

And I wonder when I sing along with you

If everything could ever feel this real forever

If anything could ever be this good again

Last night I felt the truth of these lyrics: and the daunting reality that the magic I’ve felt these past few months, may not be something I’m ever able to capture again.

So Amy, and Kent, and Ben, and Jo, and Clair, and Michael, and Marty, and Kristy, and Anja, and Lorna, and Conor, and Liam. Thank you for making Melbourne unforgettable. Know that whenever I hear Everlong from now on, I’ll be thinking of my time in Melbourne, with you.

Next stop: Queenstown, New Zealand...

Writer’s note: I am planning on continuing to blog the next leg of this travel journey, but the blog URL will change, as both the blog and my plans have extended beyond Toronto and Melbourne. I’ll let you know when I decide on a new name.