GIG: Foo Fighters - Wembley Stadium, 7th June

I’m one cynical bastard. I’m always looking out for ways to fault bands live: their sound mix, their technical performance, the energy… hell, even the crowd atmosphere I put down solely to the group’s doing. But following the Saturday night just gone, this writer was left absolutely speechless.

The Foo Fighters have been going strong for 14 years now: their rise in the UK has been gradual throughout this, each album spawning more and more Foo fans. After 2006’s laser-studded Hyde Park show, the next step was inevitable. Grohl and the boys had their eyes on Wembley for quite a while. Entering the stadium late afternoon is an event in itself; the sheer fucking size of the thing bowls most people over, the red sight of seats a kind of encircling, faraway horizon. The Futureheads and Supergrass are first up as support: the former having a better sound than previous times I’ve seen them, and the latter being not very involving until towards the end when they finally throw out great songs like Alright and Pumping on your Stereo (complete with a massive transparent snake wriggling over the throng, constructed from many plastic cups).

At this point it must be said that the stage is every synonym for ‘fucking huge’ under the sun. Dressed in luminous screens and numerous other lights and contraptions, it’s not unlike some sort of Temple of the Robots, sent from the future to astound us into submission. Thankfully, when the Foos eventually enter the pitch, it’s a case of music over set. The opening salvo of The Pretender, Times Like These and No Way Back is breathless, and the only let-up in the action is a well-deserved rest in the form of This is a Call (first single), morphing into an extended jam. A tumultuous Breakout (complete with a teasing false start for the mosh pit) and a mammoth Stacked Actors later, the screaming audience really don’t know what hit them, including me. Dave Grohl really is the perfect frontman, parading up the stadium-encompassing catwalk to entertain the fans at the back, grinning like a motherfucker the whole time. And while he’s off doing his thing, Taylor and the others keep the rock machine rolling, perfectly timed and executed with utter conviction.

But now this is where the concert gets really interesting: the stage begins revolving, acoustic songs Skin and Bones, Big Me and a reworked My Hero are played with additional virtuoso musicians, with the band facing a new portion of the crowd for each track. We get a triangle solo too. The amps are turned back up to eleven for an poignant Everlong, Dave positioned in the centre of Wembley during the verses, singing to the crowd with the same hushed breath and intimacy you would whisper to a lover. Low and behold, it begins raining – not heavily, but adding to the atmosphere a great deal. Monkey Wrench is truly special, as 86,000 people scream the middle-eight unaided. ‘Do you wanna dance?’ is the question Grohl postulates with the confidence of a million Genghis Khans. All My Life’s one-chord chug echoes around the arena, and boy do we dance when the riff hits like a sledgehammer. If this place had a roof, it would have been blown into space.

Currently, this is the best Foo Fighters show I’ve seen. But what catapults this from a merely ‘fantastic’ night to the realms of ‘mind-blowing’, is the encore. Introduced to the stage are Jimmy Page and John Paul Jones from none other than Led Zeppelin. Taylor Hawkins is on lead vocal duties with Grohl behind the kit as they explode into Rock N’ Roll, and leave an ecstatic, dumbfounded Wembley Stadium with Ramble On. The only way to follow that, readers, is what Dave asks the crowd next: sing a song, all together. Cheesy, yet effective. Best Of You is without a doubt the most epic closer I’ve seen at a gig, not one audience member leaving out the massive ‘whoaaaaa-ohhhhhhhh’s toward the end. A visibly emotional Grohl bows with his fellow band mates, fireworks illuminate the dark sky above, and that is that: two and a half hours of something extraordinary has drawn to a close.

It’s incredible that the Foos are actually tighter than ever. For that, someone should call Guiness or something. Their calibre when it comes to putting on a show is so high, it’s off the charts. I’ve got a feeling this will be one of those gigs where, in conversation between music fans for years to come, this question will be asked constantly: ‘were you there?’

Overall - 10 / 10

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