A Definitive Ranking of All 156 Foo Fighters Songs from Worst to Best

The post A Definitive Ranking of All 156 Foo Fighters Songs from Worst to Best appeared first on Consequence.

This article originally ran in 2017, but Foo Fighters keep trucking along, and we’ve updated the song rankings with the release of their new album, But Here We Are.

Dave Grohl won’t go away. That’s a good thing. We like the guy. He’s friendly, he’s one hell of a drummer, and he loves rock ‘n’ roll. So much so that he’s managed to stand at the top of the genre for decades, and despite some major hurdles — you know, like losing Nirvana — he’s yet to miss a beat. He’s basically the closest thing Generation X has to McCartney.

With Foo Fighters, Grohl has become one of the most recognizable faces in not only the genre but the music industry. Nobody can forget his mug, and while some may attribute that success to his uncanny optimism, the reality is that his band is always in the charts whenever they have a new album. The kids just can’t get enough of the Foos.

Because of this, we’ve decided to rank every Foo Fighters song, including every song off their latest release, But Here We Are. They’re a band of many distinct eras, and as Grohl began to expand the Foos, fans grew to love not just Grohl, but also Pat Smear, Chris Shiflett, Nate Mendel, and, of course, Taylor Hawkins. Hawkins’ death in 2022 led to a new era of Foo Fighters, and it’s one that pays respects to those they’ve lost.

Naturally, when ranking every song from the band’s 11 studio albums, there are the usual caveats: No songs are included that have only been released in demo form, and no covers will be found here. We learned a lot about the band in the process, but most noticeably these three items:

— Grohl knows how to pick a single.
— Foo B-sides are B-sides for a reason.
— This band’s highs are as high as any other artists’ highs. High!

Scroll to the end for a playlist of every track (with two exceptions, they’re just that rare), and enjoy this long road to… success! We were certainly “exhausted” when all was said and done, but “big me” to talk about it. Here’s the best, the best, the best, the best of…

156. “Walking a Line”

One by One Special Limited Edition (2002)

Proof that a bonus isn’t always a good thing, this One by One bonus track can be filed under “too much of a bad thing.” Forget the painfully strung-together clichés or the tedious repetition that make the song play three days over its actual runtime; a rock song that agitates a bit can be a good thing, but this B-side is the equivalent of a fly you just can’t swat away, one that keeps buzzing you “over and over and over again.” Sorry if anyone reading danced at their wedding to this song. That’s your problem, not mine. — M.M.

155. “The Line”

Concrete and Gold (2017)

Concrete and Gold’s most forgettable song stands out for the wrong reasons: It disrupts the paisley-fringed sonics for a bizarre detour into big, ‘80s guitar jangle like it mistook the Psychedelic Furs for actual psychedelia. It’s big and plodding, of course, but it doesn’t really belong, nor would it add much to any other Foos record either. Maybe a cell phone commercial. — Dan Weiss

154. “The Feast and the Famine”

Sonic Highways (2014)

The cruel joke of the Foos’ tribute to the D.C. hardcore movement of Grohl’s youth is how thin it all sounds. Even when the members of his old band Scream join in for the shout-along chorus, their voices are buried so low in the mix that the song never achieves the scene-power Grohl is so fond of singing about. — Dan Caffrey

153. “Medicine at Midnight”

Medicine at Midnight (2021)

The title track of Medicine at Midnight is an ode to the late ‘70s, and it feels specifically made for a mid-period piece movie montage, perhaps with a choreographed disco sequence sandwiched between neon-lit night drives. Like lead single “Shame Shame,” there is deliberate restraint from Foo Fighters, and while the quiet vocals, expressive guitars and layered harmonies work in their favor, “Medicine at Midnight” still comes across as a bit general. — Paolo Ragusa

152. “Word Forward”

Greatest Hits (2009)

Grohl’s eulogy to a dead friend has moments of emotional resonance, which soon get sapped by the repetition of the awkward title pun. — D.C.

151. “Spill”

“Best of You” single

The most rewarding aspect to any Foo Fighters B-side is the way you can pinpoint how the band goes through the motions in the studio. More often than not, they sorely lack in any hooks or melodies and have as much flavor as a slice of Melba Toast. They also go on for far too long. “Spill” hits the bull’s-eye on every one of these points. It’s like being stuck in a waiting room with a friend who can’t talk because he or she’s got their tonsils removed. Fun. — Michael Roffman

150. “Cloudspotter”

Medicine at Midnight (2021)

“Cloudspotter” brings the energy from the very first Taylor Hawkins drum hit, and finds Foo Fighters taking inspiration from ‘70s funk — that is, until the chorus arrives with some classic Foo Fighters high-caliber rock. Though they could benefit from a more holistic blending of genres from moment-to-moment (the song goes from funk, to southern rock, to metal, and it feels like they could have settled on one), there’s still a certifiable drive and enthusiasm from the full band that’s compelling and rich. — P.R.

149. “Ballad of the Beaconsfield Miners”

Echoes, Silence, Patience and Grace (2007)

This entry deserves, at the very least, some slight admiration for its intent. After meeting an Australian miner who survived the Beaconsfield mine collapse, Grohl was moved to discover that, while trapped, the man requested an iPod with In Your Honor on it. As a tribute to him and the rest of the miners, Grohl dedicated a song to them on the band’s next album. Unfortunately, the instrumental “Ballad” sticks out like a blackened thumb on the otherwise rock-heavy Echoes, Silence, Patience & Grace. Grohl and guitar virtuoso Kaki King pluck up a storm, but the rusticity becomes nothing more than a (thankfully short) interruption in the heavier work at play. — D.C.

148. “Concrete and Gold”

Concrete and Gold (2017)

The title track to the Foos’ most sonically ambitious album ever succumbs to its weakness for, well, everlong tracks in the third act, slouching and droning onward rather then dazzling with dexterity and poise. This is a closet shoegaze band for many (“Aurora!” “February Stars!”) so I get it, but this is closer to exhausted than “Exhausted.” — D.W.

147. “Something From Nothing”

Sonic Highways (2014)

The first piece of new Foo music we heard post-Wasting Light was in the trailer for the HBO documentary series Sonic Highways. It was a snippet of this track, and had we known what was to come, we would have created a petition on Change.org to cease production. Nickelback has better riffs. — Justin Gerber

146. “Better Off”

Wasting Light Deluxe Version (2011)

Imagine a tamer version of “The One,” and you have this track. The line “you are my favorite disaster” is a derivative take on Sheryl Crow’s “My Favorite Mistake” from many years earlier. A mid-tempo throwaway of a bonus track that wouldn’t have ruined Wasting Light, but the record is definitely “better off” without it. I apologize for nothing. — J.G.

145. “I Am a River”

Sonic Highways (2014)

On Grohl’s full-length album of geographical mad-libs, the album-closing New York ode doesn’t even attempt subtlety with its quick references to Soho and subways. Instead, it is one of the most pandering tracks in the band’s catalog, aiming for drama and catharsis with its titular refrain, but landing on something you’d rather would float away with the rest of the Hudson’s trash. — Philip Cosores

144. “Virginia Moon”

In Your Honor (2005)

Bossa nova isn’t the best look for the Foo Fighters, especially on a double album whose second disc is already fighting against its own invariant softness. The backing vocals from Norah Jones only thicken the lethargy. — D.C.

143. “Subterranean”

Sonic Highways (2014)

Recorded in Seattle for that city’s moment in the HBO doc/album Sonic Highways, “Subterranean” is very much about Grohl’s rough (to say the least) period between Nirvana and Foo Fighters. “Subterranean” is Grohl finding the drive to keep going for it. We’re happy as hell that Foo Fighters happened, but we’re down in the dumps its seeds were told in such a boring song. — J.G.

142. “Disenchanted Lullaby”

One by One (2002)

Lullabies are designed to coax the listener to sleep. Unfortunately, it’s usually a bad sign when a rock song has the same effect. This is a perfect example of how the soft-loud dynamic that the Foos built their legacy upon requires more than just cranking the volume at some point. This song feels like your kid brother screaming into your ear seconds after you finally nod off. That ain’t pleasant. And guess what — he does it again a bit later and then proceeds to run around the room banging a pot and a pan. Why did mom and dad, um, I mean Dave Grohl, think we needed this aggravation? — M.M.

141. “The Deepest Blues Are Black”

In Your Honor (2005)

It’s hard to pinpoint the worst sound to happen on a Foo Fighters song. But high on the list would be during the chorus of the high school diary poetics of “The Deepest Blues Are Black.” When Grohl goes for broke screaming the song’s title, it sounds strikingly close to regurgitation. It’s probably the “blaaaaaaahhhh” sound. — P.C.

140. “Holding Poison”

Medicine at Midnight (2021)

The fragmented, percussive verses of “Holding Poison” are genuinely wonderful, as they help build tension and anticipation for yet another big Foo Fighters chorus. And though the chorus of “Holding Poison” ends up being a bit forgettable, the band still manages to take the risk and break the song wide open for its bridge, adding a cascading metal jam that feels like it was cut from a Queens of the Stone Age track. — P.R.

139. “Wheels”

Greatest Hits (2009)

I’ll always be an apologist for the shameless crossover bid of this song’s chorus but a stubborn critic of its pop-country production. Genre-spanning aside, it’s rare that the Foos ever need more gloss on their already stadium-sized songs. — D.C.

138. “I Should Have Known”

Wasting Light (2011)

Grohl will probably go the rest of his career with fans reading Kurt Cobain into his songs. After singing the lyrics of “I Should Have Known,” which he wrote about someone other than Cobain, even Grohl started seeing connections and second-guessing himself. With former Nirvana bassist Krist Novoselic in tow, it’s a song about regret that regrettably never quite achieves the catharsis that its confessional epiphany aims for. An admirable stab, though. — M.M.

137. “In the Clear”

Sonic Highways (2014)

Almost a decade since Hurricane Katrina nearly drowned New Orleans, the message that the city and people are still fighting to overcome that disaster ranks as important as any found on Sonic Highways. Grohl’s internalizing the city’s plight as one man’s struggle works well, but like so many of the cuts on this project, we’re left wondering what might have been if the recording process had been more deliberate. It’s a damp song that might have yielded a truly triumphant ode had it been given the time and air to dry out and reveal its true hues. — M.M.

136. “The Colour and the Shape”

“Monkey Wrench” single

A younger cousin of “Weenie Beenie,” this would-be title track has nary a hook to be found in its riffage — something that was always the secret weapon of its older relative. The heaviness never took away from the catchiness and vice versa. — D.C.

135. “Love Dies Young”

Medicine at Midnight (2021)

“Love Dies Young,” the closer of Medicine at Midnight, is not only the most indie rock song they’ve ever made (complete with a dance beat from Taylor Hawkins, a soaring lead line from Chris Shiflett, and warm, ’80s alternative-influenced guitar tones), it’s a commitment to retaining the love and energy that continues to drive Foo Fighters forward after all these years. It’s fitting that “Love Dies Young” closes the album without a full-throated roar from Grohl, without a cathartic rock explosion, and without any real climactic energy; instead, it’s something more of a modest meditation on the state of the band. Love dies young, but Foo Fighters have every intention to keep the love between them alive. — P.R.

134. “Win or Lose”

“All My Life” single

“Make a Bet” and “Win or Lose” are the same songs released as B-sides one album apart. The latter is a bit heavier than the former in order to better fit on One by One, but as for which one is “better?” To paraphrase the Alien vs. Predator tagline: Whatever wins, we lose. — J.G.

133. “Make a Bet”

“Learn to Fly” single

See the above entry for “Win or Lose.” Oh, did we mention Alien v. Predator? Just checking. — J.G.

132. “Sunday Rain”

Concrete and Gold (2017)

The longest tune on Concrete and Gold overplays those Beatles moves for six minutes, jamming on a “Come Together” beat without really accomplishing much that Noel Gallagher hasn’t already. That said, it would probably be the best Oasis song in years if those guys thought of it first. — D.W.

131. “Under You”

But Here We Are (2023)

In some ways, “Under You” feels like a throwback for the Foo Fighters. Its uncomplicated alt-rock backdrop and catchy lead melody make it sound like it could have been a staple of early aughts rock radio. The lyrical content, however, couldn’t be more contemporary. The tune is another ode to the late Taylor Hawkins and finds Grohl lamenting the loss of friendship and his struggles with grief. “Someone said I’ll never see your face again/ Part of me just can’t believe it’s true,” he sings, “Pictures of us sharing songs and cigarettes/ This is how I’ll always picture you.” — Jonah Krueger

130. “Skin and Bones”

“DOA” single

The soothing, albeit ominous, vibes of this In Your Honor B-side are intriguing enough to let you ignore the fact that it’s exceedingly repetitive. It sounds like a church hymn and wouldn’t be out of place in one given the song’s bleak existential imagery and themes. Let’s just say, it warranted a great DVD concert experience of the same name. — M.R.

129. “What Did I Do?/God as My Witness”

Sonic Highways (2014)

Of Sonic Highways’ many sins, high on the list is the Foo Fighters abandoning the revitalized urgency of Wasting Light in favor of half-baked classic rock callbacks. “What Did I Do?/God as My Witness” splashes in that uninspired puddle for its first half, but things get particularly muddy when it turns on a dime for an overwrought conclusion. What’s worse than one ho-hum song? Two of them. — P.C.

128. “Dear Lover”

Scream 2 Soundtrack (1997)

The melody of both this and the first half of “February Stars” are very similar. It would be easy to assume Grohl had to decide which would make the album, and he obviously made the right choice (as you’ll read later). This forgettable track wound up on the Scream 2 soundtrack (a movie that is underrated, but you won’t read about that later). — J.G.

127. “No Son of Mine”

Medicine at Midnight (2021)

We know Dave Grohl and Foo Fighters love metal, and “No Son of Mine” is one of their most furious metal-inspired tracks to date. Its chugging riff seems to unite three different eras of hard rock, and the way the song devolves into a blistering jam in the bridge is pure fun. “No Son of Mine” — along with several others from Foo Fighters’ last three LPs — also feels directly inspired by Southern rock, both in its powerful riffs and its folkloric lyrics. It’s songs like these where you see the influence of Grohl’s Virginia childhood, his fondness for heavy bands, and his undying commitment to raising hell. — P.R.

126. “FFL”

“Best of You” single

“FFL” (an acronym for Fat Fucking Lie), if nothing else, can let you blow off some steam. Just don’t drive to it. You’ll end up getting a fat fucking speeding ticket from a fat fucking… okay, quitting while behind. Shit, my probation officer’s calling me. Great, perfect, grand. — M.M.

125. “Summer’s End”

Echoes, Silence, Patience and Grace (2007)

For a guy who grew up in Virginia, Dave Grohl has always had a hard time writing about its natural beauty with any kind of specificity. As with “Virginia Moon,” the lyrics never move beyond the stereotypical country imagery of cherry wine, moonshine, and the like. Bottom’s up. — D.C.

124. “Normal”

“Times Like These” single

If it didn’t feel so 2002, we might give this one higher praise. But c’mon, this sounds as if it were recorded strictly for an early season of Smallville, and before you start giving me shit for that remark, know that this writer owns all 10 seasons of that show on DVD. But even I’m willing to admit some parts were pretty damn cheesy. Like this song. — M.R.

123. “Tired of You”

One by One (2002)

It’s not just the title; Grohl sounds absolutely exhausted on “Tired of You.” You can really feel the weight on his shoulders, which may or may not have been a result of the arduous recording process rearing its ugly head. (One by One was not a fun time for the band.) According to the man behind the microphone, Queen’s Brian May over-dubbed the four-part guitar harmonies in the chorus, which is about the most interesting part of it. This is one instance where the repetition becomes, well, tiring. — M.R.

122. “Waiting on a War”

Medicine at Midnight (2021)

Foo Fighters have been attempting to write something with the same level of immediacy as “Learn to Fly” and “Times Like These” since 2002, and “Waiting on a War” is Medicine at Midnight’s attempt. There’s an undeniable warmth to the song, particularly in the comforting acoustic guitar and Grohl’s outstanding vocal performance — and as the band speeds up to a climax, it’s a truly impressive display from Foo Fighters, even after all these years.

That said, Grohl can’t seem to articulate the poetic universal truths that made “Learn to Fly” and “Times Like These” special, and now, with the world in an even more divisive and troubled state, his fumbled attempts to summarize our collective state could do with a bit more nuance, risk, and specificity. — P.R.

121. “Podunk”

“Big Me” single

When in doubt of a song’s tunefulness, smother it in distortion, give the vocal the ol’ “Weenie Beenie” treatment, and call it a B-side. — D.C.

120. “M.I.A.”

There Is Nothing Left to Lose (1999)

Admit it. Three tracks into There Is Nothing Left to Lose and you thought the Foos had caught lightning in a bottle again and delivered The Colour and the Shape II. By the time Hawkins taps us out of closer “M.I.A.,” we know that’s not quite the case. Still, kudos to Grohl growling us back awake after a fairly quiet Side-B that could use a bit more racket. — M.M.

119. “Empty Handed”

Songs From the Laundry Room EP (2015)

Songs From the Laundry Room was a 2015 Record Store Day Release, and it’s a cool get due to early demos of both “Alone + Easy Target” and “Big Me,” both recorded in the waning days of Nirvana. The previously unreleased “Empty Handed” is just the scream section from “Everlong” stretched out to two minutes. Not quite as cool as you’d think. — J.G.

118. “Iron Rooster”

Saint Cecilia EP (2015)

Following Sonic Highways, the Saint Cecelia EP found the Foos playing the part of orange-vested road crew out patching things up in more ways than one. On one hand, the EP saw release in response to the Paris terrorist attacks and was intended to be something positive to help those healing. On the other, it also found the band mending themselves. If Sonic Highways had been a heady concept (a goodhearted one, too), songs like “Iron Rooster” brought the Foos back to the mantra of “keep it simple, stupid.” When you’re a rock band as talented as the Foo Fighters, that’s sage advice to heed. — M.M.

117. “The Sign”

In Your Honor (2005) Bonus Track

The lead guitar line is like a mosquito that won’t stop filling up with blood, growing from harmless to grating in the space of four minutes. Eventually, you can’t remember any of the positive traits in “The Sign.” Bzzzzz … POP! — D.C.

116. “Seda”

“Long Road to Ruin” single

Part of me thinks “Seda” deserves a higher spot on this list for its soothing properties. Then again, the brushed drumming and gentle acoustic guitar never break through the trappings of coffee-house prettiness. Like several of the B-sides from Echoes, Silence, Patience & Grace, there’s just not a whole lot going on. — D.C.

115. “Over and Out”

In Your Honor (2005)

This track was actually written during the There Is Nothing Left to Lose era but wasn’t fully realized until the recording of LP5. Instead of landing as a forgettable B-side a year earlier, it serves as padding for a double album. Can you imagine how good that album would have been as a single disc? Sigh. — J.G.

114. “Fraternity”

“Generator” single

Dave Grohl has managed to get away with subpar or just plain nonsensical lyrics in the past by obscuring them with the instrumentation (see most of the Foo Fighters’ first album). Unfortunately, on “Fraternity,” his condemnation of frat culture (we think?) rings loud and clear. The whole concept feels a little strange, given that so many of the band’s fans are bros drawn to the machismo of songs like this. As such, the words undermine what’s actually a fairly decent bit of power pop. — D.C.

113. “Beyond Me”

But Here We Are (2023)

With all the bracingly specific grief on But Here We Are, “Beyond Me” sticks out for how generically it approaches loss. The lyrics are a retread of better lines on other songs, and if you strip away the context, it could be yet another placeholder track filling out the back half of any number of Foo albums. — Wren Graves

112. “Outside”

Sonic Highways (2014)

Most of the songs on Sonic Highways suffer from disparity — of the musical guest never fully gelling with the Foo Fighters’ sound. “Outside” has the opposite problem. Joe Walsh blends in so well with the MOR Foo track, it never justifies its own existence. Where’s the talkbox? Where’s the flair? Somebody call Don Felder. — D.C.

111. “Lonely as You”

One by One (2002)

Grohl once likened “Lonely as You” to Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band; or rather, he discussed the album in the context of the song’s pseudo metal vibes. Don’t scoff. Listen long enough and you actually start to see where he was coming from. In the background, right before the chorus, the guitars seem to rain down these little harmonies that are very akin to George Harrison’s work. But The Beatles were fabulous — hence, the Fab Four moniker — and this song’s more fit than fabulous. In other words, the track blends well with One by One and not so much anywhere else. — M.R.

110. “Making a Fire”

Medicine at Midnight (2021)

“Making a Fire” introduces us to Medicine at Midnight’s joyous sound, complete with auxiliary production and, believe it or not, background singers. Grohl is as enthusiastic as ever on “Making a Fire,” and with its soulful, retro stomp, he ends up sounding like Daryl Hall after about five shots of whiskey. It’s certainly Foo Fighters at their most pop-centric and dance-worthy, but much more in the classic sense — “Making a Fire” exhibits a clear thread to their 2021 Bee Gees homage EP as “The Dee Gees,” Hail Satin. — P.R.

109. “Cold Day in the Sun”

In Your Honor (2005)

This is a tough one. “Cold Day in the Sun” will never sound the same after Taylor Hawkins’ death. What was once a slightly obligatory moment for Taylor to take center stage, it now has been cemented in the Foo Fighters lore: this is Taylor’s song. As the band continues their tour for But Here We Are, Grohl has been singing “Cold Day in the Sun” in honor of his fallen friend. It may not be that notable (on a double album with a lot of notable cuts), but it’s a slice of pure Taylor Hawkins, gone too soon. — P.R.

108. “End Over End”

In Your Honor (2005)

…I’m circling. Middle-of-the-road Foo that wears out its welcome despite a welcoming beginning. It’s a song about repeating mistakes, but unfortunately the track is repetitive as F. More like “Never end over and over never end over and over never end…” — J.G.

107. “Miss the Misery”

Wasting Light (2011)

Tucked towards the back of Wasting Light, “Miss the Misery” probably isn’t the track that first comes to mind when most fans think about the album. However, the cut contains the lyrics that lend the record its title: “Don’t change your mind/ You’re wastin’ light/ Get in and let’s go, go.” For a group pushing AARP age in band years, you gotta believe this is a regular mantra for Grohl and the Foos. Or a reminder to switch off the lights when exiting their tour bus. Both are important. — M.M.

106. “Happy Ever After (Zero Hour)”

Concrete and Gold (2017)

A pretty tune that’s easy to make fun of, since it sits sonically between Donovan and “Hey There Delilah,” but this delicate ditty still does a good job of illustrating how much interest Concrete and Gold has in melodies and harmonies. Those kind of textures aren’t exactly the blunt Grohl’s stock in trade, and it’s nice to hear him challenging himself some, even if the result is merely pleasant. — D.W.

105. “Come Alive”

Echoes, Silence, Patience and Grace (2007)

The best thing that can be said about “Come Alive” is that its journey ultimately proves worth taking. By the second half of the song’s five minutes, the drums kick in and the song finds a distinct direction. The problem is the song’s first half, which takes its time getting to the point, might lose listeners in its meandering. — P.C.

104. “Bangin'”

“The Pretender” single

Given the drum metaphor of the title and the lyrics’ fear about a relationship growing stale, the repetition seems very much intentional. But the device also loses its charm since the band doesn’t mix up the chord progression until almost three minutes in. — D.C.

103. “Erase/Replace”

Echoes, Silence, Patience and Grace (2007)

Take away that stupid noodling in the very beginning, and the song ain’t too shabby. — M.R.

102. “Ain’t It the Life”

There Is Nothing Left to Lose (1999)

At this point, you’re probably thinking: “God, these writers are some miserable pricks.” But don’t fret. We’re inching towards the part of the list where we cease taking cheap (or at least inexpensive) shots and start rolling up our cuffs to display our Foo tattoos – we call them “Footoos.” In the meantime, we’ll let Grohl take potshots at his own work: “‘Ain’t It the Life’ sounds like an Eagles song or something, and I hate The Eagles.” Damn, Dave. Don’t be so hard on yourself. That’s our job. — M.M.

101. “On the Mend”

In Your Honor (2005)

“It’s a simple, easy-feeling song,” Grohl told NME of “On the Mend.” “It was written in London. I wrote it sitting in a hotel room. It’s another example of how we’d start with an acoustic guitar, do that first, and then start adding to it.” Pleasant story for a pleasant song that does absolutely nothing for their catalog except move along an album that’s much too long to begin with. — M.R.

100. “Halo”

One by One (2002)

“Halo” is one of those frustrating, mid-tier Foo Fighter tracks. The ones that threaten to become interesting before settling for filler. At the time Grohl heard elements of Tom Petty, Guided by Voices, and Cheap Trick in the track, whereas we would just prefer to hear those artists’ songs instead. — J.G.

99. “If Ever”

“The Pretender” single

What plays like the Foo Fighters’ version of “Tuesday’s Gone” perks up the ears whenever Taylor Hawkins interrupts with a fill, then sinks back into slumberland with the verses. Not a bad B-side, but far from essential. — D.C.

98. “Statues”

Echoes, Silence, Patience and Grace (2007)

I don’t approve of a song that could be mistaken as a bad Phish song, and I like a number of Phish songs! “Just two ordinary people/ You and Me/ Time will turn us into statues/ Eventually.” See you at Bonaroo circa 1998, Dave! It’s a harsh criticism, but while the band was trying to find a balance between the hard and soft from their previous album, it isn’t steady here. — J.G.

97. “Chasing Birds”

Medicine at Midnight (2021)

Grohl makes himself small and understated on the gentle “Chasing Birds,” and its contemplative nature is refreshing for Foo Fighters. Grohl seems to be looking back on his life with an air of wisdom: “The road to hell is paved with broken parts/ Bleeding hearts like mine.” The indie rock-leaning “Chasing Birds” is proof that Foo Fighters can, in fact, age gracefully — albeit without much risk or sonic experimentation.

It would be fascinating to hear what an album of songs modeled after “Chasing Birds” would sound like; is Grohl capable of pushing himself further into this emotive territory, similar to understated classics like In Your Honor’s “Friend of a Friend?” If Grohl can acknowledge that the world has become much more complex and broken, what will it take for Grohl to reflect that difference with curiosity and artistic courage? Only time will tell, but at least “Chasing Birds” is scratching the surface. — P.R.

96. “Free Me”

In Your Honor (2005)

I would never accuse Foo Fighters of taking a cue from latter-day Metallica, but the riff in “Free Me” definitely takes a cue from that less-than-appreciated haircut era (cue outrage comments … NOW!). The harder the Foos try to “rawk” in the 21st century, the harder it is to fall in love with the material. “Free Me” is also 60 seconds too long, like most tracks on In Your Honor. — J.G.

95. “Savior Breath”

Saint Cecilia EP (2015)

What is it with Foo Fighters and boneheaded puns? “Savior Breath” is right up there with “Word Forward” in terms of the stupidity of its wordplay. The song does have a tangible energy, though, even if the riffing goes into full-on butt rock at times. — D.C.

94. “T-Shirt”

Concrete and Gold (2017)

Foo Fighters’ best album opener in a while is a mere 82 seconds long, sound familiar? But it compresses a nice, big, heartworn melody that borrows more from Rivers Cuomo than Paul McCartney before a brief, wailing guitar riff that could’ve been Gov’t Mule’s Warren Haynes. In its short time it accomplishes everything it sets out to do; prepping us for the rarity of a Foo Fighters album that may not actually sound like the others. — D.W.

93. “The Neverending Sigh”

Saint Cecilia EP (2015)

“Woe is me/ The end is near/ Thought you’d never leave,” Grohl sings on the closing track of their Saint Cecilia EP. It’s an agreeable closer to a commendable collection of songs, and as I wrote in my original review, it’s “a mountain of riffs and distortion that digs into the band’s love of ’70s rock.” Yeah, that’s about right. — M.R.

92. “Congregation”

Sonic Highways (2014)

At this point, the verdict has been handed down on Sonic Highways. It’s an ambitious, innovative, and even inspiring project, but it ultimately made for a rather scatterbrained and bland record by Foo standards. “Congregation,” recorded in Nashville with previous Grohl collaborator Zac Brown on board, might be the most successful recording of the batch and even drew a clever comparison between the local music community and a religious congregation; however, like so many of its brethren, the song proves almost instantly forgettable and feels like it should end about two minutes before it actually does. Can I get a hallelujah? Naw, I didn’t expect so. — M.M.

91. “The One”

Orange County Soundtrack (2002)

Another Foo Fighters song where the verse makes a better chorus than the actual chorus. There’s half of a good song here, and it works a little bit better than most of the other songs written for the Orange County soundtrack. Dave Grohl’s acting in the music video ain’t too shabby, either. — D.C.

90. “Still”

In Your Honor (2005)

Like the the album itself, the major fault with In Your Honor’s “Still” is its length. If this was a 90-second intro or a bridge into a more deserving, “epic” track, then it would be more forgivable. The music glides along with its pleasant acoustic guitar, but with a promise of a build that never delivers. For being based on a harrowing true story (a crime scene post-suicide), it somehow doesn’t earn its runtime. Fine, but could have been better. — J.G.

89. “Burn Away”

One by One (2002)

“We’ll burn away, burn away, burn away my pride,” Grohl pines again and again and again on, you guessed it, “Burn Away.” Similar to a few almost-there cuts off of One by One, this track’s marred by a dreadful use of repetition. And while it’s clear that Grohl’s repeating himself to convey a sense of bleeding-heart compassion — ahem, something they were particularly fond of around this time; just take a glance at the album’s artwork — it becomes one swell of white noise. Enjoyable white noise, to be fair, but nonetheless white noise. — M.R.

88. “Rest”

But Here We Are (2023)

As much a lament as it is an ode to loved ones we’ve lost, “Rest” is stripped-down and solid, just a guitar underneath Grohl’s vocals, before exploding into something new. “Rest — you can rest now,” they repeat. “You will be safe now.” — Mary Siroky

87. “Run”

Concrete and Gold (2017)

It’s probably safe to say this is one of the heaviest Beatles ripoffs ever recorded, considering those baroque McCartney chords aren’t normally accompanied by death-metal shrieks. If you squint a little, the split between the earnestness of the melody here and the Cannibal Corpse-inflected vocal is almost extreme as Damian Abraham from Fucked Up roaring over, well, Foo Fighters-esque riffs. But Dave Grohl has surprisingly few songs that strive for this size grandeur. One of them is “Everlong.” — D.W.

86. “Shame Shame”

Medicine at Midnight (2021)

“Shame Shame” is an odd Foo Fighters song by any means. Where Grohl and Co. would usually take a skeletal track like this and build it to a screeching, anthemic climax, they instead demonstrate their sonic maturity and opt for the high road. As the chorus creeps in, Grohl laments “beneath a mountain of emptiness” and adds a carefully-mixed orchestra to make the song feel more heartfelt and deliberate, as opposed to rocking for the sake of rocking.

The riffing is minimal, there’s an intentional lack of grit from Grohl’s performance, and its flirtations with pop music (a usual for Foo Fighters) comes across less as an ’80s power-pop homage and much more like a subtle, authentic attempt to create something new. Not only does it serve as another unique entry point into Medicine at Midnight, it shows what can happen when Foo Fighters deliver with restraint. — P.R.

85. “How I Miss You”

“I’ll Stick Around” single

One of Grohl’s hindsight fears about the song “I’ll Stick Around” was that listeners would read harsh sentiments about former bandmate Kurt Cobain into its title and lyrics. It also probably didn’t help the single’s B-side was called “How I Miss You.” The brokenhearted song marks an early, less-sophisticated stab at an abrupt shift from near-whisper minimalism to full-band explosion. Consider it part of the band’s fossil record or a solid stepping stone towards what came next. — M.M.

84. “Winnebago”

“Big Me” single

It’s nearly impossible for me to listen to “Winnebago” and not think of Spaceballs (the movie, not the flamethrower). The name Foo Fighters, of course, comes from the term given to WWII UFOs, and early Foo artwork often featured flying saucers. So, if Grohl and, well, Grohl sounds like he’s blowing out the windows in a garage here, why not rock out in a Winnebago cruising through space at ludicrous speed? I’d actually go see that sequel. — M.M.

83. “Dirty Water”

Concrete and Gold (2017)

On Concrete and Gold, Dave Grohl uses negative space like he hasn’t since 1997, and on the muted jangle of “Dirty Water” he even sneakily incorporates some flamenco guitar fills that aren’t the least bit jarring, and the rare female vocal in this largely testosterone-identified batch of boys. It’s so skillfully layered that you may not even notice these elements until three or four listens. A Foo Fighters tune subtle enough to reveal itself over time? Not quite; around 2:41 it promptly bludgeons you with riffs for another few minutes, but what did you expect? — D.W.

82. “Hell”

In Your Honor (2005)

With In Your Honor, you could tell the band was desperately trying to shake things up. They were uninterested in writing another radio staple, which, let’s be real, they could do in their sleep. And so, this is why we got a quick gasp of a song like “Hell.” At less than two minutes in length, the band hop on a bunch of horses, race toward the edge of a cliff, and leap forward. It’s like The Who on speed, and it’s a cool look on them, one that lasts as long as it takes to read this paragraph. — M.R.

81. “A320”

Godzilla Soundtrack (1998)

Possible alternate title: “Here Come the Strings.” Whenever “A320” leans fully into orchestral prog rock, it soars, making one wish that the rest of the song was as memorable. Also, its association with 1998’s Godzilla somewhat sullies its better qualities. Even Dave Grohl has admitted that what he has at times called his “favorite Foo Fighters song” lands with somewhat of a lizard-footed thud when placed at the tail end of the film’s credits. All of this keeps “A320” relegated to being a minor success rather than a major one. — D.C.

80. “The Last Song”

In Your Honor (2005)

Sometimes, a song becomes memorable for a single inflection. In the case of “The Last Song,” that moment is the way Dave Grohl belts “You got to talk the talk, the talk, the talk…” At that point, it doesn’t matter if best days of In Your Honor’s first disc are long behind it. — D.C.

79. “Hearing Voices”

But Here We Are (2023)

On “Hearing Voices,” Foo Fighters tap into the fascinating relationship between grief and paranoia. Throughout the song, Grohl can’t seem to move on from the reality of death, that the figures he once viewed as permanent have disappeared. It’s made all the more satisfying with the band’s pinwheeling guitars and Greg Kurtin’s spacious production. — P.R.

78. “Long Road to Ruin”

Echoes, Silence, Patience and Grace (2007)

The best part of “Long Road to Ruin” is its accompanying music video, directed by Foo Fighter fave Jesse Peretz. The video stars a wigged-out Grohl alongside Rashida Jones, both playing soap stars who happen to be histrionic lovers both onscreen and off on their long road to ruin. The song is pretty fun, but it’s part of a bigger issue that permeates Echoes: It’s pretty good in the moment, but just not very memorable. — J.G.

77. “A Matter of Time”

Wasting Light (2011)

The freewheelin’ spirit to the Foo Fighters is a powerful thing, and that goes twofold when they’re not leaning on ’70s-style jams and instead writing simple pop songs. No, when they can nail down a chewy track that bounces and stands up straight, they’re absolutely unstoppable. “A Matter of Time” is one of those tracks, the end of a trilogy of outstanding deep cuts off Wasting Light that shimmies and shakes and everything in between. It’s also intriguing where they take the song (scan to the psychedelic bridge at 3:12) as it would have been so easy to lean hard against that sticky, icky chorus. Ooh wee. — M.R.

76. “Home”

Echoes, Silence, Patience and Grace (2007)

Simple, sweet, and written about missing one’s family on the road, “Home” is one of the few quiet closers to a Foo Fighters album (the only other being “Razor”). On its own, it feels slight — perhaps even disposable — but when played after the tonal whirlwind of the rest of Echoes, Silence, Patience & Grace, it’s more than a suitable comedown. It could also be an unofficial sequel to the louder and longer “New Way Home,” the final song on The Colour and the Shape. Dave Grohl was once searching for a sanctuary after the tour. Now, he’s found it. He is there, and he is happy. — D.C.

75. “Have It All”

One by One (2002)

So much of One by One operates on the idea that Grohl and co. were flying by the seat of their pants. You know, operating on instinct? For instance, “Have It All” never sounds like they actually sat down and figured the song out, and that’s not exactly a bad thing. From beginning to end, the whole thing greases by unopposed, punctuated only by the shifting guitar lines, from those chugging railroad chords to the repetitive scale that sounds like it’s coming from a ’50s phone operator. Still, a little editing would have gone a long way, and it also didn’t need to be nearly five minutes long. — M.R.

74. “See You”

The Colour and the Shape (1997)

You can’t listen to tracks off The Colour and the Shape in isolation without losing something. That’s because Grohl designed the album to mimic a therapy session, the constant volume and speed changes (between and within songs) representing the frontman’s conflicted feelings at the time. So, it’s no mistake that as the feedback dissipates on the most uplifting rock ballad in the Foos’ catalog, “My Hero,” we get the change-up “See You,” a skittering little swinger that reveals Grohl shelving his denial and accepting the positive effects his ex still has on him. As you get older, this track goes from one you used to skip to one you quietly anticipate. Okay, gramps. — M.M.

73. “La Dee Da”

Concrete and Gold (2017)

It’s not hard to imagine Robert Plant singing “La Dee Da,” or Rob Tyner for that matter, because this high-tech update of the MC5 even mentions “the American ruse” between its quantized slabs of one-note-synth and guitar. For once, the Foo Fighters could be taking alt-rock out of its comfort zone instead of defining it. — D.W.

72. “Come Back”

One by One (2002)

With its length, abrupt shifts, and start-stop chord progression, at times, “Come Back” feels like the Foos are attempting to recreate “New Way Home.” They never quite get there (it could have used some more speed at the end), but it’s still one of the stronger tracks on One by One, trudging forward with a sense of purpose, determined to deliver a strong finish to a mostly average album. — D.C.

71. “Arrows”

Concrete and Gold (2017)

The woozy “Arrows” continues Dave Grohl’s developing interest in using notes he doesn’t tend to lean on, and it’s nice to hear his larynx and guitar voicing them. The closest cousin to this melody in his catalogue may just be the spooky cover of Gary Numan’s “Down in the Park,” which never quite breaks into anthem as he does here, punctuated by Archers of Loaf-style guitar screeches of course. His most rewarding deep cut in some time. — D.W.

70. “Back and Forth”

Wasting Light (2011)

The second half of Wasting Light admittedly pales in comparison to the album’s muscular upper body, but a song like “Back and Forth,” to borrow a lyric from the song, “shows a little backbone.” It’s the Foo Fighters doing late-era Replacements — think Don’t Tell a Soul — and it’s an unpretentious blast of energy that’s slick but boisterous enough to feel like a late-night college party. It’s also another example of how this band can write exceptionally great verses and super-good choruses or vice versa; a back-and-forth conundrum, no pun intended, that the band continues to struggle with on occasion. — M.R.

69. “The Glass”

But Here We Are (2023)

Of all the grief-addled songs on But Here We Are, “The Glass” references Dave Grohl’s relationship with Taylor Hawkins the most explicitly. “I had a person I loved, and just like that/ I was left to live without him,” Grohl sings. As he likens his relationship with Hawkins’ to that of a mirror, it becomes clear that their souls were intertwined, their bond unbreakable. It’s not the most sonically challenging Foo Fighters song, but it does contain a rather affecting emotional core. — P.R.

68. “Another Round”

In Your Honor (2005)

It’s funny the little things that make you love a song. For me, it’s the inflection on the chorus as Grohl asks, “Can you go another round?” It’s a pledge as much as a question, and I’m not sure that it’s possible to exist as long as Grohl has (or I have or you have) without someone offering that support at some point. Likewise, I couldn’t imagine never having been that crutch for someone else. Damn, that line gets to me for some reason. — M.M.

67. “Let It Die”

Echoes, Silence, Patience and Grace (2007)

Before recording Echoes, Silence, Patience & Grace, Dave Grohl revealed that the band wanted to squeeze the tonal variances on In Your Honor — a double album — into a single disc. With “Let It Die,” they squeeze it into a single song. The end result is one of the Foos’ better exercises in soft-loud dynamics. Although it’s softer overall than the track that comes after it, “Erase/Replace,” it has a stronger — and more nuanced — power. — D.C.

66. “Cheer Up, Boys (Your Make Up Is Running)”

Echoes, Silence, Patience and Grace (2007)

Taylor Hawkins’ drums are set to detonate as “Cheer Up, Boys (Your Makeup Is Running),” a working title that stuck, explodes out of the gate. Echoes has as many shortcomings as a record as I do as a son-in-law, but “Cheer Up, Boys” isn’t one of them. It’s a melodic assault that’s pure fun and another example of how well a nimble Grohl knows his way around a rock song. Hey kids, that’s Taylor Hawkins and Chris Shiflett on backing vocals! — M.M.

65. “Nothing At All”

But Here We Are (2023)

With its guitar stabs and prominent bassline, “Nothing At All” is one of the more straightforward, radio-ready rock tunes of the more existentially-bent, grief-stricken But Here We Are. The song features an explosive chorus and some of the album’s most memorable lyrics – “I’ll get by, or maybe I won’t,” resulting in a track you can dance to, mosh to, and (importantly) strut down the street pretending you’re the main character to. — J. Krueger

64. “Low”

One by One (2002)

Maybe because it was a nightmare to create, who knows, but One by One has long been seen as the evil stepchild in the Foo Fighters’ discography. Which is kind of strange given that it birthed classics like “All My Life” and “Times Like These.” One track that deserves to be tossed in that pile is “Low.” The third single off the record is a jagged tornado of noise, sounding as if it was recorded in a rusty cyclone, which happens to fit the subject matter. It’s about a pair of fuck buddies who get off on each other over anyone else, and that edgy material warranted an edgier song. As Grohl argues, “It’s unlike anything [they’ve] ever done,” and it’s a shame more people weren’t receptive to it. Oh, well. — M.R.

63. “The Sky Is a Neighborhood”

Concrete and Gold (2017)

Grohl’s full-throated vocal performance evokes Paul McCartney, while the pounding shuffle is undoubted informed by his other pals in Queens of the Stone Age, and yet the best single from Concrete and Gold manages to be itself. Gotta love that Eagles-style choir of backup Daves buttressing the chorus too. — D.W.

62. “Enough Space”

The Colour and the Shape (1997)

Seems like every Foo Fighters album has to have at least one song that lets Grohl go fucking nuts. “Enough Space” is the proverbial exhaust pipe for The Colour and the Shape, a total expulsion of rage that captures some of the singer’s finest bloodcurdling screams. But it’s smarter than that; the entire song is shouldered by a handful of melodies and a couple of key change-ups, specifically when the song warps into a 16-bit jam two minutes in. Apparently, the song was inspired by a 1992 flick called Arizona Dreaming, which stars Johnny Depp and Faye Dunaway, but you’d never know. Though, come to think of it, Depp probably sounded a little like Grohl here when he fucked up his hand on a wine glass while arguing with former wife Amber Heard. Lifestyles of the rich and famous, my friends… — M.R.

61. “Stranger Things Have Happened”

Echoes, Silence, Patience and Grace (2007)

Grohl has said that the quiet nature of “Stranger Things Have Happened” is the result of feeling stuck in the hotel rooms he constantly finds himself in on the road. He (or perhaps a bandmate or producer Gil Norton) takes that conceit one step further by placing what sounds like a metronome under the song’s verses; we even hear it getting cranked up in the beginning. It’s a subtle flourish that breathes life into a song about being bored, keeping it from being, well, boring. — D.C.

60. “Sean”

Saint Cecilia EP (2015)

The root of many Saint Cecilia songs are from as far back as the ‘90s, but “Sean” wouldn’t feel out of place on Wasting Light. Clocking in at a mere 2:11, the track serves as a more-than-appropriate, less-is-more model. Too often Foo tracks wear out their welcome, but Grohl and the gang know when to cease fire here. “Sean” blisters along before the bubbly, easy-peasy chorus refrain of, you guessed it, “Sean!” Goofing around but that’s no insult. — J.G.

59. “X-Static”

Foo Fighters (1995)

Part of what makes Foo Fighters such an enjoyable listen is how everything just connects. Of course, that’s easy when it’s only a single guy in a studio with a lot of emotions, words, and hooks. But execution is a whole other thing, and while pretty much every album by the Foo Fighters runs about a track or two too long, stunted by filler and would-be B-sides, the debut is a concrete statement front to back. Even an unassuming track like “X-Static” speaks volumes. It’s not particularly catchy, or even outright memorable, but it’s a moment that feels compelling, and that’s a rewarding feeling. In the past, Grohl has gone on record and said songs like this are “the only way [he] can express grief or happiness,” which explains everything. — M.R.

58. “These Days”

Wasting Light (2011)

If Dave Grohl was making this list, “These Days” would rank near the very top. We won’t argue too vehemently against him, though. In the same straight-on vein that made Wasting Light so rejuvenating, Grohl beautifully adds to rock’s long tradition of “you don’t really get me” songs, and the shift in his voice from vulnerability to frustrated growling absolutely injects the song with utter sincerity. So, lay off him already. — M.M.

57. “Oh, George”

Foo Fighters (1995)

There are no clunkers on the band’s first LP. Not every song blows you away, but they’re all worthy of at the very least a polite nod. I’m underselling a song like “Oh, George,” although Grohl would likely say I’m overselling. The bandleader has cited this as his least favorite Foo song, but we can’t always go by what the writer says. Once it’s out there it’s ours, and I’ll always go to bat for this verging-on-jangle pop number. — J.G.

56. “Next Year”

There Is Nothing Left to Lose (1999)

There’s nothing subtle about “Next Year.” Foo Fighters were continuing to experiment with ballads that could both expand their fan base and provide necessary change-ups during live sets. Sure, the band is as wimpy as ever on the song, but the track’s central conceit does resonate, with Grohl’s returning home narrative avoiding its trite possibilities and earning its sentimental stripes. — P.C.

55. “Wind Up”

The Colour and the Shape (1997)

Grohl does his best straight-up screaming on their second LP, with “Wind Up” serving as one of the finer examples. While the music doesn’t deviate much from point A to point B, Grohl’s voice sure does elevate come that third verse. It’s the one where the rock star is fed up with being pigeonholed by the music journalist. “It’s confession you sell.” “Spare me your questions since you know me so well.” “Keep you at a distance from the things that I felt.” It isn’t hard to imagine the number of times Grohl has been asked about Cobain. This track is Grohl finally losing his patience. — J.G.

54. “Headwires”

There Is Nothing Left to Lose (1999)

“Headwires” is really the last track (sequence-wise) on There Is Nothing Left to Lose that we can recommend in good faith. Grohl calls the song a tribute to the Stones and says if you hold the track up to your ear, you can hear a bit of Tattoo You in there. I’m not sure about all that, but when Grohl sings, “Better than a bullet being fired,” I totally hear “Monkey Wrench.” Am I alone here? Wouldn’t be the first time. — M.M.

53. “Hey, Johnny Park!”

The Colour and the Shape (1997)

It’s hard to say that bassist Nate Mendel, formerly of emo icons Sunny Day Real Estate, had much to do with the sound of early Foo Fighters albums. That era was almost exclusively the vision of Grohl. Still, it’s interesting to note a song like “Hey, Johnny Park!” — one of the most emo-sounding songs the band would ever release. Of course, this isn’t Sunny Day’s brand of emo, but more a forbearer of the screamo that would come in the next decade. But on an album that takes pleasure in its disparate styles, “Hey, Johnny Park!” is an experiment outside of their comfort zone that works, packing drama into its harmonies and served up with massive dose of Grohl’s wide-eyed earnestness. — P.C.

52. “Gimme Stitches”

There Is Nothing Left to Lose (1999)

Joe Walsh would guest on the Foo Fighters’ Sonic Highways, but the band had actually written a James Gang-esque song on their own 15 years earlier. The classic-rock bid works much better than “Outside,” perhaps because 1999 was a lot closer to the ’70s than 2014. Or maybe it was a result of the band recording as a lean and mean three-piece for There Is Nothing Left to Lose. Or maybe it was written the way most good songs are written: with little reasoning or explanation. Sometimes, when three people get together in a room with their instruments, this sort of successful classic-rock tribute just happens. — D.C.

51. “Wattershed”

Foo Fighters (1995)

Part love letter to Mike Watt and a defunct Austin rock band (“I wanna swim in a wattershed/ I wanna listen to Flowerhead”), “Wattershed” is another reliable track on the solo effort, er, debut self-titled Foo Fighters LP. Grohl flexes his musical abilities throughout the record and not just by plodding and fiddling about. This song is evidence of such praise. It’s hard to imagine that the same guy who put together that weird time signature shift for the chorus of this song created “Wheels” 15 years later. Everything still seems so real here. — J.G.

50. “In Your Honor”

In Your Honor (2005)

Outside of Sonic Highways, have the Foo Fighters ever not had a killer opener to one of their albums? On the title track of In Your Honor, they one-up themselves at every turn. A drone soon explodes with howling and drum thunder, and right when it seems like the song can’t handle any more power, a false ending gives way to one more round of wordless screams. The only downside is that it sets such a high bar for the rest of the album. — D.C.

49. “Doll”

The Colour and the Shape (1997)

“Doll” feels like a mere intro to sophomore album The Colour and the Shape – no different than, say, an opening PSA or skit on a hip-hop album – that is, until you find yourself humming along to the minute-and-change ditty and hitting repeat. Catchy as hell, the little lullaby-like plea pulls its weight and then some: establishing the soft-loud emotional dynamic of the album, shrinking Grohl’s head following his divorce the year before, and acting as the perfect launch pad for one of the most blazing alt rock hits of the ‘90s, “Monkey Wrench.” Hey, we’ll meet you there. — M.M.

48. “Overdrive”

One by One (2002)

On One by One, the band often overcompensates in an effort to be more “raw” and “hard.” Fortunately, “Overdrive” is the exception to that rule. The track has a bob-your-head quality to it as opposed to a bang-your-head hindrance that plagued other album cuts. The lyrics are dumb fun, but on a such a self-serious record, it’s more than welcome. No other song is as breezy on their fourth LP. “Times Like These” has a murderous melody but definitely carries a weight with it. “Overdrive” represents what the Foo Fighters do best: pop-rock dressed up in hard rock. Nothing wrong with that. — J.G.

47.”Rescued”

But Here We Are (2023)

Catharsis and release are baked into the DNA of “Rescued,” a track that sees Grohl and Foo Fighters processing the death of drummer Taylor Hawkins in what feels like real time. The song begins with the line, “It came in a flash, it came outta nowhere” — in moments of trauma, there’s always the choice of fight, flight or freeze, and what is described in “Rescued” feels most like that third option. “I’m waiting to be rescued,” they sing on the chorus. Despite the heavy subject matter, there’s an air of defiance and perseverance to “Rescued.” Everyone involved keeps moving forward. — M. Siroky

46. “For All the Cows”

Foo Fighters (1995)

Irreverent humor is a large part of what makes the Foo Fighters a cut above the mainstream schlock they’re traditionally roped around. “For All the Cows” isn’t irreverent, per se, but the country-fried wash of each verse, namely how Grohl’s guitar sounds more like a lasso than a six-string shooter, has always made this early, early track sound quasi tongue in cheek. Again, it’s not. Sure, the opening line (“I’m called a cow/ I’m not about/ To blow it now/ For all the cows”) is curious with a capital C, but then he starts talking about money being exchanged (“It’s funny how money allows all to browse/ And be endowed/ This wish is true it falls into pieces new/ The cow is you”), and the joke isn’t funny anymore. Well, it kind of is … c’mon, cows. — M.R.

45. “Friend of a Friend”

In Your Honor (2005)

For two decades and counting, Grohl has had to dodge endless questions on which songs are about Kurt Cobain, Courtney Love, or his overall experience with Nirvana. (On the plus side, it was probably a great icebreaker when he first met Sir Paul McCartney. You know?) But “Friend of a Friend” is an actual meditation on that time period: “I’d just moved up to Seattle and joined Nirvana,” Grohl told NME. “I’d moved in with Kurt in this dirty little apartment. That was the first song I’d ever written on an acoustic guitar with vocal. It gives a nod to the past, where the rest of [In Your Honor] is about looking ahead.”

Source material aside, what really fuels this song is the use of repetition, specifically the back-and-forth chord progression and the haunting use of “No one speaks,” which slowly closes all of the doors around you. Kind of spooky, but also kind of relaxing. — M.R.

44. “Floaty”

Foo Fighters (1995)

Only on an album as front-loaded (and, hell, back-heavy too) as the Foo’s self-titled debut could a cut like “Floaty” possibly fall into the category of afterthought. Rubbing riffs against so many songs topping this list, the Side-A closer hints at just how capable a songwriter Grohl already was at this stage. Those may be early gibberish lyrics (though the idea of people “floating away” sure seems relevant enough to those times), but the acoustic tease, the surprise vocal start, and Grohl’s choice to let both the hazy verses and choppy choruses crest and float atop the arrangement show how the young songwriter could turn an incredibly simple jam into something un-Foo-gettable. Blame Justin Gerber for that pun. — M.M.

43. “New Way Home”

The Colour and the Shape (1997)

Upon first listen, you’d think the last song on The Colour and the Shape would be “Walking After You.” It seems like the prototypical comedown track to close out a standard “alternative rock” album. However, as soon as the beauty of that song fades from your speakers, the drums and guitars of “New Way Home” come crashing through. So much to love in just under six minutes: the jangle pop first half, the abrupt stop, the whispering build, and the raucous climax. The Foos have rarely played it live in the past decade, but it represents everything we love about the band: an equal distribution of tempos. — J.G.

42. “Live-In Skin”

There Is Nothing Left to Lose (1999)

As told by Grohl, this is another song that sprung from his “love of the riff.” It’s a writing technique that sometimes churns out tunes too reliant on a singular line — an effect that can be grating rather than powerful. Here, though, it works like gangbusters, with the entire track stacking and stacking upon the descending progression. The self-affirming lyrics add more hopefulness, even if Grohl should have gone with “I’m a mountain” rather than “I’m amounted” for the chorus. Have any other Foo Fighters fans out there experienced this mondegreen? — D.C.

41. “My Poor Brain”

The Colour and the Shape (1997)

Whoa, is this At the Drive In? Ah, there we go: A nice little strummer, something that could work with Sheryl Crow, something that could soundtrack a Kevin Williamson teen thriller, something that’s fundamentally Foo Fighters. Granted, the Pixies cultivated the soft, loud, soft thing, but it was Nirvana who popularized it, and the Foo Fighters have kept that trend going. “My Poor Brain” is one of the finer examples of this art, and the ebbs and flows of this song tickle all the right nerves. Grohl’s drumming is also phenomenal, slamming with the weight of Tyson and the finesse of Ali and turning every chorus into a sweaty night at an underground punk club. And if you weren’t sold on his singing by then, well, get fucking lost. — M.R.

40. “DOA”

In Your Honor (2005)

Grohl refers to the first disc of In Your Honor as a “Jack and Coke” rock and roll record. And while a common criticism of the double album complains about things ultimately tasting watered down, the Foos are anything but bartenders out to stiff you on that opening binge chased by “DOA.” It’s a line of drinks mixed with Grohl’s irrepressible passion, unrelenting Foo melodies, and assault after assault potent enough to make you a cheap date by the time “DOA” goes down the hatch. Cheers! — M.M.

39. “Make It Right”

Concrete and Gold (2017)

This tune swaggers and shakes and wears its patchouli oil on its sleeve, but mostly its nice to hear the ever-predictable Grohl working with a different set of chords. No, it’s not quite Steely Dan; the soulful psych-rock of the Rascals isn’t exactly jazz dissonances, but paired with the Lemmy-style verses, it’s something new. For a band like Foo Fighters, that’s a big deal. — D.W.

38. “Saint Cecilia”

Saint Cecilia EP (2015)

The beauty about “Saint Cecilia” is how much hope it restores in Foo fans. The title track from their surprise 2015 EP is vastly superior to anything on Sonic Highways, effortless in its build and lift-your-emo-fists-like-antennas-to-heaven chorus. Grohl dedicated the EP’s release to the victims of the horrific Bataclan massacre, hoping that “these songs can bring a little light into this sometimes dark world.” Saint Cecilia may be the patroness of musicians, but Grohl keeps angling for the title. Here’s to this track being indicative of what’s to come. Of course, can the band come back again? — J.G.

37. “What If I Do?”

In Your Honor (2005)

Grohl considers “What If I Do?” an ode to North Carolina, his home state for much of the ‘90s. He’s spoken about finding beauty in the sand dunes along the coast, and the song definitely could remind listeners of gentle, rolling dunes. But it’s Grohl’s sincerity that separates “What If I Do?” from much of the acoustic mixed bag found on the second disc of In Your Honor. “I’d have to lose everything just to find you,” ponders Grohl, a simple but poignant moment contemplating what we may have to sacrifice to truly find ourselves. — M.M.

36. “The Teacher”

But Here We Are (2023)

For a band known for ferocious rock songs that top charts, fill stadiums, and define eras, a ten-minute, multi-phase epic was an unlikely move for the Foo Fighters to make nearly three decades into their career. And yet, But Here We Are’s “The Teacher,” which serves as the emotionally-charged album’s penultimate climax, sees the Foos coming through with exactly that. The song is more than just mere novelty or a typical Foo Fighters song stretched out to twice its length, though, as it manages to remain consistently engaging despite its mammoth runtime, resulting in one of the best late-stage Foo Fighters songs the band has to offer. — J.Krueger

35. “White Limo”

Wasting Light (2011)

Maybe it’s their Lemmy-starring, VHS-quality music video, but “White Limo” is Foo Fighters at their sleaziest, right? Indecipherable, screeching verses and a primal scream of a chorus make up the engine that revs and accelerates throughout its runtime. Hawkins’ percussion smashes through windshields while the triple-guitar attack of Grohl/Shiflett/Smear swerves and crashes into Maiden territory. It was our first taste of Wasted Light, and despite being the shortest song on that effort, we think it’s still some of the best that record has to offer. — J.G.

34. “Weenie Beenie”

Foo Fighters (1995)

“Weenie Beenie” is all Grohl all the time. As a distant cousin to Wasting Light’s “White Limo,” this track has the slight edge because you can’t really make out anything Grohl is screaming about here without the words printed out in front of you. We love chaos here at Consequence! Indecipherability wins every time. The song did carry a bit of controversy upon release. The “one shot nothing” line was unfairly taken as commentary on Cobain’s suicide, but the song was written around the time of Nevermind. It’s refreshing to know that outrage culture was around when I was still a little boy. — J.G.

33. “Up In Arms”

The Colour and the Shape (1997)

Grohl has likened “Up in Arms” to The Knack, and yeah, that’s about right. When the song finally takes off after a minute of daydreaming, you can almost hear a beat-up “My Sharona” single playing in the background. Not really, but you get the idea that they’ve been listening to the stuff. This is one chummy and punchy number that sounds as crazy and rabid as anyone stung with unadulterated love.

Personally, this track always reminds me of that scene in Bring It On when Kirsten Dunst starts dancing on her bed to that stupid-ass song by her punk rock doofus boyfriend, played by ultra aughts hunk Jesse Bradford. What the hell were we talking about again? Oh, right, The Knack. I mean Foo Fighters. Whatever. — M.R.

32. “Razor”

In Your Honor (2005)

As much as we love ’em loud, we’d be remiss not to include at least one of Foo Fighters’ unplugged tunes in the upper echelon of this list. That distinction goes to album closer “Razor,” a meditative number that builds in volume and tempo the same way as the Foos’ heavier material, just with softer guitars. It could be about depression, a failing relationship, or both, but I like to think of it as a hibernation song. Honeycombed plucking guides us all to our hiding places for the winter, then wakes us up when spring comes. Now’s the time to throw it on. Now’s the time to sleep and not shiver. — D.C.

31. “Arlandria”

Wasting Light (2011)

With Pat Smear returning to the fold, Wasting Light was the first Foo Fighters album to feature three full-time guitarists (the only other LP that holds this distinction is Sonic Highways). The triple-axe attack could have easily been a mess, but there’s a tastefulness from Smear, Chris Shiflett, and Dave Grohl throughout, as best exemplified on “Arlandria.”

Over four and a half minutes, they take turns, intertwine harmonies, and each brings something different to the song, from strategic palm mutes to subtle arpeggios, unison power chords, and solos that underscore rather than trample. The guitars are constantly morphing until “Arlandria” ends. Best of all, you don’t even realize it’s happening. — D.C.

30. “But, Honestly”

Echoes, Silence, Patience and Grace (2007)

It’s a classic two-fer in one sense: an acoustic strummer that eventually explodes into an aural assault. After all, the Foos built their name on musical mood swings. However, as Grohl explains, the riff tacked on at the end actually dated back to the Colour and the Shape era 10 years prior. In that sense, “But, Honestly” acts as a Foo Fighters timeline in reverse, electric guitar and drums playfully echoing Grohl’s repeated “I’ll give it to you” refrain until the song peels out and shoots back in time faster than Doc Brown can say, “Great Scott!” — M.M.

29. “Dear Rosemary”

Wasting Light (2011)

It’s no surprise to anyone reading this that Dave Grohl would be the type of rock star to get star-struck; he’s too genuine and respectful of rock music and its history to be otherwise. And “Dear Rosemary” finds Grohl trading licks and lyrics with his own Husker hero, Bob Mould. The song spins as the rock and roll equivalent of a big brother passing down his record collection to his kid brother – an absolute celebration of music from start to finish. Oh, and if you don’t have any Bob Mould records, well, it’s time to get off your ass. — M.M.

28. “But Here We Are”

But Here We Are (2023)

As you can imagine, “But Here We Are” serves as a thesis statement for Foo Fighters’ terrific eleventh album. There’s tension between the anthemic, no-holds-barred strategy of the song’s chorus and the futility that undermines it all — no matter what you do, or how much you give yourself to ones you love, you can still end up sitting there all alone. But Dave Grohl is not alone on “But Here We Are.” He’s surrounded by the best rock band he could ask for. He’s playing with all the energy and might he can muster. And he’s still writing damn good hooks. — P.R.

27. “Alone + Easy Target”

Foo Fighters (1995)

When Foo Fighters first hit stores, Nirvana was still on the mind. Grohl wasn’t the Uncle Dave we now know and recognize; he was the straggly dude that could beat the shit out of the kit and wear a turtleneck when the occasion called for one. A track like “Alone + Easy Target” went down easy; it was catchy, angsty, and had all the trappings of Seattle’s purveyors of grunge — and for good reason. The song actually dates back to 1991, when Nirvana was still touring behind Nevermind.

As Grohl has explained, “I’d told [Kurt Cobain] I was recording and he said, ‘Oh, I wanna hear it, bring it by.’ He was sitting in the bathtub with a Walkman on, listening to the song, and when the tape ended, he took the headphones off and kissed me and said, ‘Oh, finally, now I don’t have to be the only songwriter in the band!'” We’ll never really know how the outfit would have sounded with two songwriters, but a song of this caliber proves they would have been riding in tandem. — M.R.

26. “No Way Back”

In Your Honor (2005)

In Your Honor is bloated as hell, but removing “No Way Back” would be out of the question. The track chugs along with typical-but-welcome Foo urgency, and while latter-day Grohl struggles to create a captivating chorus to go along with solid verses, he doesn’t have that issue here. The label wanted this as the first single, and as good as it is, it’s safe to say they did right by opting for a song that hasn’t popped up on our list yet (hint: rhymes with “Yest of Boo”).

The band normally avoids politics, but it’s hard to ignore the fire early on in the track: “No more left or right/ Come on take my side/ I’m fighting for you.” Grohl denies this 2004 song was dedicated to John Kerry (remember him?), but the call for solid leadership is apparent. Once you follow that leader, you’re with him or her for the long haul. Hope everyone is keeping that in mind here in 2017. Yeesh. — J.G.

25. “February Stars”

The Colour and the Shape (1997)

Foo Fighters know how to do pretty. They also know how to do epic. When the two come together, it’s a wonderful thing, and that’s the best way to describe “February Stars.” At nearly five minutes in length, the stunning ballad off The Colour and the Shape drifts along slowly through Grohl’s soft-spoken croon before leaving the launch pad and exiting our atmosphere about three minutes in. It’s a tricky feat that the band has fumbled over the years, but not here, not with “February Stars.”

It’s a song about struggle, about holding on, and that feeling takes over the second they step on their pedals and lose all sense of gravity. The fact that it precedes “Everlong” on the album makes it even better; it’s like having an exciting trailer attached to a definitive blockbuster. You love the main event, but you also can’t stop thinking about that trailer. — M.R.

24. “Generator”

There Is Nothing Left to Lose (1999)

“I’ve heard of Peter Frampton but Peter Foompton? For the first (and only) time Grohl took it upon himself to employ the use of a vocoder for one of our favorite Foo deep cuts. Armed with a voice box and a motor heart, Grohl sings about accepting your role in the life of someone you love, even if you know it’s just temporary. Wow. What a loser. But he’s our loser. It’s the fighting Foo at their most pop rock. It has you picking up your imaginary drum sticks to try to keep up with Hawkins, however futile such an enterprise is. I read that it was released as a single, but what’s a single without an official music video (this doesn’t count)? They’re not Pearl Jam circa 1997. A crucial part of that impeccable Side-A on There Is Nothing Left to Lose. — J.G.

23. “Big Me”

Foo Fighters (1995)

When Foo Fighters launched, they were destined to get attention based on the Nirvana connection alone. But once the singles began to roll out from their debut, Grohl’s project would begin to get attention for an unrelated reason: their music videos. This would continue throughout their career, but none is more memorable than their first big VMA-winning moment, “Big Me.”

The Mentos parody clip showcased Grohl’s sense of humor that would go on to be a calling card, but remembering the song solely for this is unfair to what was the biggest hit of their career at that point. It landed at number three on the alt charts and cracked the top 20 at pop radio, bolstered by its outlier status as a particularly soft-around-the-edges recording. In fact, Foo Fighters would rarely sound as gentle ever again, reserving moments like this only for Grohl’ most tuneful melodies. — P.C.

22. “Walk”

Wasting Light (2011)

Foo Fighters haven’t had problems nabbing Grammy awards, but it’s still notable that two of their wins, 20% of their career total to date, have come for the song “Walk.” Part of this might have been how much a return to form the song, and its album, Wasting Light, as a whole, were for the band. By 2011, Foo Fighters had no problem crafting hits, but had been struggling on their full-album consistency.

“Walk” is an example of everything this period of the Foos gets right. There is an ease both in Grohl’s voice and his songwriting, living up to those “Tom Petty of his generation” comparisons and dropping a track long into his career that feels equally breezy and urgent. This relaxed delivery, of course, turns on its head during the bridge, when Grohl becomes feverish in his cadence, resulting in a song that is among the most well-rounded in the band’s discography. — P.C.

21. “Resolve”

In Your Honor (2005)

“Resolve” often gets overshadowed by the bigger hits on In Your Honor, but it stands out for its distinct pop-rock leanings. On an album full of thunderous anthems, “Resolve” glides along with ease, lifted by the backing harmonies of the refrain. It’s a rock-solid reminder that, for all their stadium-friendly heaviness, the Foo Fighters have always had an uncanny knack for melody, so much so that “Resolve” could easily be a jingle for the cleaning product of the same name. I mean that as a compliment. After all, what’s catchier than a jingle? — D.C.

20. “Good Grief”

Foo Fighters (1995)

Maybe a couple times a year a song hits the alt rock airwaves that makes listeners do a double take because it’s something they haven’t quite heard before. If any song fits that bill for the Foos, it’s “Everlong,” and “Good Grief” always struck me as the stepping stone to that classic. The fifth cut off the Foo Fighters’ self-titled debut has an eclecticism and patience that belied Grohl’s relatively short experience as a songwriter.

It’s a song that erupts, barks, and thrashes melodically but remains perfectly paced throughout, like a roller coaster car that knows hills and turns and drops await but that they’ll be all the more dynamic and thrilling thanks to the stretches of straight track between. Remember when your grandparents would marvel at some example of craftsmanship and sigh, “They don’t make ‘em like this anymore?” Well, this song is what I’ll be blasting when I say those words to my grandkids. — M.M.

19. “Walking After You”

The Colour and the Shape (1997)

Heartbreak can carry with it bruises of all shapes and colours, but for all the complexities that come with adult relationships, there’s nothing simpler than a broken heart. And it’s hard to imagine a song more simply or precisely capturing that arguably most painful of human experiences. As delicate as any song in the Foos’ catalog, “Walking After You” finds Grohl sure of only one thing: Life was so much better when she was beside him. There’s nothing more to it than that, and yet it would be cheating that feeling to not let it softly roll out over its five minutes. For an album that remains a classic due to its tendencies to accelerate and explode, leaving Grohl this quiet, contemplative moment was one of the band’s best decisions. — M.M.

18. “Bridge Burning”

Wasting Light (2011)

While there’s a case to be made for Wasting Light being the best latter-day Foo Fighters album, it doesn’t always live up to the band’s goal of being a live-sounding throwback to the glory days of analog. The Foos are simply too epic to sound like they’re recording something in a garage (even if they actually were). But they do achieve a certain kind of grittiness on the opener, “Bridge Burning.” It starts with a muted, almost hesitant guitar line that quickly goes away, as if the band is practicing until they land on a hit.

And soon, they do, Taylor Hawkins’ drums rolling with cavalry strength as everything quickly rises around him. By the time Grohl screams, “These are my famous last wooords!” the Foos have burst through a brick wall with recharged energy after the quiet ending to Echoes, Silence, Patience & Grace. We have no way of confirming, but this is probably what one of their band practices sounds like. — D.C.

17. “Stacked Actors”

There Is Nothing Left to Lose (1999)

There’s a lot to hate about Los Angeles: The glossy people and the frustrating lack of suitable public transportation could drive anyone nuts. It’s a breezy place to visit, but not exactly the breeziest place to live, and knowing that makes a song like “Stacked Actors” all the better. It’s one of the angriest songs in the Foo Fighters catalog, capturing a vicious Grohl who vents his frustrations and angst as he screams, “Line up all the bastards all I want is the truth.”

Aside from being an essential crunchy opener, both onstage and for There Is Nothing Left to Lose, the whole thing sounds like a swampy grunge memoir of their time in the City of Angels, as if Nirvana actually aimed for the football stadiums. Of course, that idea is a nightmare in itself, but hey, the end product is “one for the books,” as they say. And no, it’s not about Courtney. — M.R.

16. “Miracle”

In Your Honor (2005)

Just because a song is quiet doesn’t mean it can’t have forward motion, and that’s why “Miracle” works so much better than many of the other tracks on In Your Honor’s second disc. Much of the credit goes to John Paul Jones. By bringing in Led Zeppelin’s bassist, the Foo Fighters add an extra bit of drive. So what if he’s playing piano and not bass? This is a man who, to put it lightly, obviously knows a thing or two about rhythm, which translates to several different instruments. His presence gives “Miracle” a quiet power. Without him, the song may have just been quiet. — D.C.

15. “Show Me How”

But Here We Are (2023)

Usually, when Dave Grohl needs to let out his emotions, it arrives with an arena rock thrill or a heavy metal wail. None of this is evident in “Show Me How,” a brilliant highlight on But Here We Are. It’s a throwback to the slacker-core of Foo Fighters’ first three albums, with shoegazing guitars, understated vocals, and time passing by like a hot summer afternoon. But “Show Me How” is also made richer in context; presumably more about the death of Grohl’s mother than the death of Taylor Hawkins, he seems to arrive at the song’s central question with both peace and apathy. So, Grohl brings along his daughter Violet to share vocals with him, and her warm, comforting tone adds a layer of earnestness and reassurance. It’s full dream pop Foo Fighters — a type of song I didn’t expect from them 30 years in — and it’s a powerful family affair. — P.R.

14. “Rope”

Wasting Light (2011)

The “CHAAAOKE!” yowled by Grohl isn’t the chorus of “Rope,” but it may as well be. Every time it surges from the speakers, it revitalizes a song that needs no revitalization whatsoever, taking it to a higher plane several times over. But like many of the songs on Wasting Light, “Rope” has layers that go beyond loudness. In the verses, Grohl turns to his more soothing lower register. The dichotomy turns the term “stadium rock” (two words I’ve probably used several times already) into somewhat of an insult. Even in a cranked-up song like “Rope,” Foo Fighters manage to find more nuance than the typical radio giant. And hey, if loudness is your thing, just play (and scream along to) “CHAAAOOOKE!” again and again and again. — D.C.

13. “All My Life”

One By One (2002)

If we’re truly splitting hairs, Foo Fighters became an arena rock band the minute they finished recording “My Hero,” a song that ostensibly became the unspoken anthem for American football following its use in 1998’s Varsity Blues. But when the band returned in 2002 with “All My Life,” it was as if Grohl was the one doing all the tackling. At the time of its release, the juggernaut single for One by One felt like a rush of adrenaline, a boisterous side swipe to the crunchy excess of nu-metal and an unstoppable hurricane that destroyed all the garages housing The Strokes, The White Stripes, The Vines, et al.

As Grohl explains, “It’s one of the most aggressive songs we’ve ever written — it’s kinda dark and dissonant but really in your face.” Seriously, this is the type of mainstream rock single that has gone on to define FM radio for the aughts, and very few outfits have come close to replicating its power. The only one that comes to mind? Foo Fighters. Ha. — M.R.

12. “Best of You”

In Your Honor (2005)

Foo Fighters will never go down as an overly-sentimental band, but it’s not a coincidence that many of their very best songs find an emotional urgency to match their unparalleled ability to rock. At that, “Best of You” is practically inspirational. Written following Grohl’s work on John Kerry’s campaign trail in 2004, it’s a song best described as therapeutic, an outreached hand of support for anyone fighting adversity.

But while the takeaway is how Foo Fighters crafted an anthem that works as a sing-along for thousands or fits nicely within a Prince set at the Super Bowl, it’s also important to note the performance of the song. Grohl might never again sound as impassioned as he does in this recording, his throat rubbed raw by several minutes of fifth-gear scream-singing. For a message that sounds best bold and underscored, it’s exactly the delivery that the song needs. — P.C.

11. “Exhausted”

Foo Fighters (1995)

Fun fact: “Exhausted” is technically the band’s first single. Issued as a rare promotional 12″, the sludgy, psychedelic ballad cracked open the Foo mythology on January 8, 1995, through a broadcast on Eddie Vedder’s Self-Pollution Radio. Imagine the context, though. Everyone knew it was Grohl’s official follow-up to Nirvana, specifically their third studio album, 1993’s In Utero, an aural wasteland of sticky hooks, sharp distortion, and macabre poetry. “Exhausted” stays true to that album’s spirit; it’s lonely, it’s loud, it’s unpredictable, and it’s fucking depressing.

At 4:23, when Grohl barrels back into the main riff, it’s as if he’s purging everything he learned with the Seattle outfit, which may explain why it’s a) the first single for the Foo Fighters, b) the closing track on his self-titled debut, and c) a type of sound they never continued. Fans who like to talk about which Foo Fighters songs pay homage to the late Cobain should be pointing to this one. It’s the bridge between the two iconic bands, and like any great bridge in any iconic city, it’s always worth walking over again for a wider perspective. It also helps that the song flat-out rules. — M.R.

10. “My Hero”

The Colour and the Shape (1997)

Now that we’re more than 20 years into Foo Fighters’ career, it’s hard to remember the early days when Grohl’s melodies, arrangements, and, most of all, lyrics were frequently combed over for comparisons and references to Nirvana. The band formed so quickly after Kurt Cobain’s death that fans were sure that Grohl must have been as preoccupied with his former bandmate as the general public was.

That idea gave way to a song like “My Hero” often being incorrectly interpreted as a song about Cobain, but the song is much more universal than that. It’s a song about less traditional icons, folks that walk among us and perform small, necessary acts that lift up others. As Grohl repeats throughout the songs, they’re “ordinary.” What’s not ordinary in the song is the Grohl’s performance on drums, recorded as one of the most urgent percussion elements of the Foos’ career. They move the song forward in a way that almost takes over the track, speaking to the strength of the other components when they don’t. — P.C.

09. “Breakout”

There Is Nothing Left to Lose (1999)

How good was ‘90s Dave Grohl? So good that he could squeeze a hit out of a song about acne. That’s when you know you have the greasy golden touch as a songwriter. And “Breakout” was everything you could ask for coming off of The Colour and the Shape: melodic, explosive, and agitated. You could sing along to it, dance to it, head bang to it, and scream back at it.

It’s something Grohl and the Foos had a knack for doing there for a stretch — constructing songs that could be everything to everyone without ever coming across as half-baked or slapdash. Have some of those songs dated a bit? Sure, but in that good way that lets you remember why you loved an era of music so much. Nearly 20 years later, “Breakout” keeps “making us dizzy running circles in our head” and shows no signs of stopping anytime soon. — M.M.

08. “I’ll Stick Around”

Foo Fighters (1995)

“It’s just a very negative song about feeling you were violated or deprived,” Grohl explained of “I’ll Stick Around” to Rolling Stone long ago. He’s not wrong; this sucker’s nuclear, raging with all sorts of grunge-tinged ions that eat and devour each other without a fork and a knife. The beauty of the song, though, is in its simplicity and how it sounds like Grohl essentially hit the distortion pedal on a track from A Hard Day’s Night.

It’s no coincidence, then, that it’s sandwiched right between the very Fab Four-esque “This Is a Call” and “Big Me,” making “I’ll Stick Around” a brilliant display of the soft-loud tendencies the band continues to mine today. Let’s also not forget this was one of the earliest singles for the Foo Fighters, and Grohl did his damnedest to prove his singing could match his drumming. Scan to 2:57 for some Peak Grohl. — M.R.

07. “The Pretender”

Echoes, Silence, Patience and Grace (2007)

The first (and best) track off Echoes, Silence, Patience & Grace, “The Pretender” carries over both the aggression and violins from the Foo’s previous effort, merging what was separated on In Your Honor into one bracing single. Grohl’s rage-filled vocals question authority, bite back against conformity, and yet he never distances himself from the listener. Does the message end up an afterthought to said listeners? Absolutely, but that’s only because Grohl writes better hooks than most other “rock” stars of our era. He’s too busy engaging his audience both on record and on the road to be concerned about boring ol’ messages, anyway. — J.G.

06. “Learn to Fly”

There Is Nothing Left to Lose (1999)

Here’s some inside dope: These lists are hard to write, even when divided up among five people. You start at the bottom, work your way to the top, and by the time you’ve written about nearly 30 different Foo Fighters songs and have reached the top 20 — the band’s tunes that should be easiest to write about — you’re burned out. You get to “Learn to Fly” and can’t think of anything to say that hasn’t been said already. So you rewatch the video put together by Rockin’ 1000, the group of 1,000 musicians who performed the song in unison in a bid to get the Foos to play in their home of Cesena, Italy.

And you’re moved. You’ve watched it several times before, but again, you’re moved. You realize that, no, there isn’t much left to say about “Learn to Fly.” What can you write that isn’t already conveyed by such a joyous video? For all of our criticisms (and we know there are many in the lower ranks of this list), there’s a reason the Foo Fighters have the staggering popularity that they do. They don’t just write great rock songs — they give people hope, whether it’s through inspiring an epic performance overseas or giving a Muppet the strength to launch himself out of a cannon.

If not every last one of the band’s songs furthers their myth of being modern-day rock superheroes, this one certainly does. When the Foo Fighters are long gone, this is the type of song that will cause an aging superfan to go all Han Solo when remembering their favorite musical act: “It’s true. All of it.” And as evidence, they need do nothing except direct the next generation of music lovers to that Rockin’ 1000 video. — D.C.

05. “Monkey Wrench”

The Colour and the Shape (1997)

Oh, to go back to the spring of 1997. There was a time when I could scream out the nervous breakdown of “Monkey Wrench” without taking a single breath and belt out the word “fast” as if the lives of me and my friends depended on it. I’m obsessed with nostalgia and worrying that looking back can be dangerous, but how can you not love this song? As the first single to The Colour and the Shape, it proved Grohl’s project had become a proper band and one with enough passion and energy to still be blowing the roofs off arenas two decades later. — J.G.

04. “This Is a Call”

Foo Fighters (1995)

Although rawer than anything that came after it, the first widely heard Foo Fighters song established Grohl’s
preferred aesthetic: vague yet relatable lyrics and stadium-sized hooks. The words are nothing more than a series of positive non sequiturs to Grohl’s friends and former bandmates (“fingernails are pretty!” “Them balloons are pretty big!”), but that doesn’t matter. “This Is a Call” is about an energy, an optimism, a starting over. In other words, it was just what Grohl needed given that Kurt Cobain had shot himself only six months prior to the recording. Nirvana fans needed it, too. — D.C.

03. “Times Like These”

One by One (2002)

Many folks dig on the acoustic version of “Times Like These.” Maybe it’s because the sonics more closely match Dave Grohl’s self-doubt at the time of writing One by One’s best song. But we’ll always go for the electric. It’s simply more uplifting, thanks in no small part to Grohl and Chris Shiflett’s dueling leads. Their guitar lines intertwine, then float away, as if the two musicians are having a conversation in the sky. Sure, the piano in the unplugged version is purdy, but when you’re feeling like shit — as the entire band was during the recording of One by One — what would you rather have? A ballad or an anthem? — D.C.

02. “Aurora”

There Is Nothing Left to Lose (1999)

Grohl has admitted that the lyrical meaning of “Aurora” isn’t exactly crystal clear, even to himself, but that it serves as sort of an abstract love letter to Seattle, the city where his rock ‘n’ roll dreams became more real than he could have ever imagined. With that in mind, the song sounds like nostalgia bottled, then thrown into a sky swirling with northern lights. Most of the invocation comes from an uncharacteristically gentle guitar line from Grohl, but that doesn’t stop Taylor Hawkins and Nate Mendel from adding some military muscle to the climax. — D.C.

01. “Everlong”

The Colour and the Shape (1997)

I could be wrong, but I swear I’ve heard David Letterman introduce several musical acts on his show as “my favorite band.” Regardless, he’s always seemed to mean it with the Foo Fighters. They were the first musicians he asked to be on the Late Show after his quintuple bypass surgery in 2000, brought in to play his favorite song. Of course, it was “Everlong.” What else would it have been?

There will no doubt be a string of comments lamenting the deep cuts and B-sides that should have made it higher on this list, but I’ll be genuinely surprised if anyone disagrees with number one. And that’s because it has stakes. Remember, Dave Grohl wrote the song’s lyrics while his marriage crumbled around him and he fell in love with another woman. He had both nothing and everything to lose. His (and later Taylor Hawkins’) hissing ride on the hi-hit adds further urgency, and by the end, the risk could apply to anything: divorce, forming a band, heart surgery.

Like a lot of people, Letterman got helped through a difficult period by “Everlong,” something he elaborated on when he invited Foo Fighters back to play it again in 2011. The sound was bigger — Nate Mendel’s bass bubbled, the guitars had multiplied to three, and the audience furiously clapped along.

And that’s to say nothing of its ultimate encore as the song that would bring down the curtain on Letterman’s Late Show tenure forever. This time, it even got its own fireworks display. Yet despite the expansion, the sentiment remained the same. “Everlong” will always be universal. It will always be about risk, about holding your breath and leaping into the unknown. Everyone loves it, and, for once, everyone is right. — D.C.

Wow, you made it this far?! You can have this playlist, as a treat.

Every Foo Fighters Song Ranked Playlist:

A Definitive Ranking of All 156 Foo Fighters Songs from Worst to Best
Consequence Staff

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