None of this light is wasted.

There used to be a time, way back when, that we used to pull a large flat piece of grooved vinyl from a protective sleeve, or not, place it on a spinning wheel, and place a small needle into it's grooves. At that moment, the stereo speakers would crackle to life, and out poured the most beautiful sounds the ear can behold. And when you listened to all that side had to offer, you flipped it over, and repeated the process. Thus you heard the album in its entirety, exactly as the artist wanted you to hear it. Did we listen to the whole thing out of respect for their artistic integrity? Were we too lazy to physically pick up the needle and move it to a new space? Or were albums back in those days just so damned good that every song was a musical masterpiece? Probably a combination of all three, but in today's digital world, songs are plucked out of the stratosphere and downloaded into a device that was smaller than a cassette tape, bypassing the artist's attempt to weave you through a story of their making. I still choose to purchase the "album", well not the vinyl, but the smaller digital disc we call a "CD". I just can't help but to still refer to them as albums.

But way back then, you couldn't sample a song or two before you purchased it, you only had the radio. If 1 song from the album made the radio, it was enough for you to run out and buy it. If 2 or 3 of the songs out of the 10 or 12 were great, you knew you had a keeper. And if you couldn't help but listen to both sides, or all 4, over and over, it was iconic. My all time favorite album, The Wall, by my all time favorite group, Pink Floyd, is in that category. I can still to this day put it on and not stop until 1:46 of Outside The Wall faded to an end. But today is a crap shoot. I am too lazy to look up all of the songs, sample them one by one, and make a decision whether or not to plunk down the $12.99 for the neatly cellophaned package. I just buy the damn thing. Some bands you just take a chance on, and thus was the case when I heard that the Foo Fighters had just released a new album, Wasting Light.

Now you may or not be a big fan of the Foo, but I am. Every music lover has that sound, that melody, that guitar lick, that makes the brain go, "aahhh." And boy does Dave Grohl have my number. From the first unholy sounding notes of the opener Bridge Burning to the ringing power chords of the closing Walk, there is not a bad song on the album. Hell, there is not a bad 10 seconds to be found anywhere. Even with the simple act of pushing the >> button on the cars CD player, you know, to jump over a less than listenable song, I find myself lapping up every second of this piece of musical wonder. I can't help but singing aloud or in my head, days after it has been put back into its little plastic enclosure, from any one of the songs. Rope, Dear Rosemary, Alandria, every song has one of those melody's that grabs me by the ears and shakes my head. Back and Forth, Matter of Time, it goes on and on. I still remember the day I bought the "album", ripping off the wrapper like a little kid on Christmas. The first song ended and I was all like, "wow." Then the next song began, and I was all like, "wow". On and on it went, each time saying to myself, "Is it the next song?" You know, the one where you wouldn't be tapping your hands on the steering wheel, or singing along to the harmonies. The one where you knew the artist was actually human, capable of writing and releasing a bad song. But it never happened.

There are plenty of CD's I have bought recently that have that one song that made me buy the "album", only to be disappointed by the bulk of the work. Like the artist tricked you by putting out the one song that didn't sound much like the rest of the "album". Ray LaMontagne did it to me with "Trouble." John Mayer did it to me with "Born and Raised". Perhaps I should go all new age and listen to the songs before I buy them. Then again, I really miss the days when you could run out and by the latest Led Zeppelin album without so much as hearing a note, and know that you were in for something wonderful. Maybe with all the focus these days on recording the next hit, and not he next great "album", artists have lost their way. But thank God there are still guys out there like Dave Grohl that "get it." That it's not ok to throw together a bunch of crap for the sake of wrapping it around one great song. Maybe you can't stand the Foo, and think all of that is crap. But beauty is in the eye, or ear, of the beholder. To each is own. One mans trash is another man's treasure. And so on. But if If I could say just one thing to Mr. Grohl, it would be, 'I know you are a man and so am I and it goes against all of nature, but I want to have your baby,' 'I really love your new album.'