It is with profound sadness and heartfelt concern for everyone in Paris that we have been forced to announce the cancellation of the rest of our tour. In light of this senseless violence, the closing of borders, and international mourning, we can't continue right now. There is no other way to say it. This is crazy and it sucks. Our thoughts and prayers are with everyone who was hurt or who lost a loved one.

It is with profound sadness and heartfelt concern for everyone in Paris that we have been forced to announce the cancellation of the rest of our tour. In light of this senseless violence, the closing of borders, and international mourning, we can't continue right now. There is no other way to say it. This is crazy and it sucks. Our thoughts and prayers are with everyone who was hurt or who lost a loved one.

Nous vous informons que vos billets seront automatiquement remboursés à partir du 18/11/15.
 
Merci de votre compréhension,

19 November 2015
Tonight, Let me begin with a preface to a letter I wrote a few weeks ago from my
hotel room in Berlin while on our final tour for this album. I felt the need to write
this foreword in light of the heartbreaking tragedies of Nov. 13th, as this project
has now taken on an entirely different tone. As has everything, it seems...
The Saint Cecilia EP was put into motion back in October of this year as a
celebration of life and music. The concept being that, as our world tour drew to a
close this week, we wanted to share our love of both with you in return for
everything you have given us.
Now, there is a new, hopeful intention that, even in the smallest way, perhaps
these songs can bring a little light into this sometimes dark world. To remind us
that music is life, and that hope and healing go hand in hand with song. That
much can never be taken away.
To all who were affected by the atrocities in Paris, loved ones and friends, our
hearts go out to you and your families. We will return and celebrate life and love
with you once again someday with our music. As it should be done.
Dave Grohl
8 November 2015
Hey.
Thanks.
For real.
It was in Austin, Texas March 14th, 2013, at the last show of the “Sound City
Players” when I was given a small, but very relevant and perhaps prophetic gift
from my Sound City movie producers Jim Rota and John Ramsay. An empty
journal, with a note that said something along the lines of, “Congratulations on
everything Sound City…..now get to work on the next project!” It was the most
beautiful way to end something that I wanted so badly to last forever: with a new
beginning.
The basic concept of the Sonic Highways album and series was born right then
and there, in a small backstage room surrounded by mountains of Lone Star beer
and Stubbs BBQ. 8 songs, 8 cities, 8 studios, and a musical road trip of a lifetime.
Removing the Foo Fighters from our comfort zone and challenging the process
from top to bottom, it breathed new life into the band, and set us on a journey
that unquestionably exceeded any of our simple expectations. And now it has led
us here. To another beautiful ending.
So, where do I begin?
We owe it all to Mexico City.
Unbeknownst to them, the people who attended those two concerts back in
December, 2013 at Foro Sol stadium helped fund the filming and recording of the
bulk of the Sonic Highways project. They were the fuse that lit this little
firecracker, baby. Without those gigs, many may have never heard the incredible
and truly inspiring life stories of Buddy Guy, Steve Albini, Ian Mackaye, Tony Joe
White, Zac Brown, Dolly Parton, Roky Erickson, Gary Clark Jr, Bruce Pavitt, Fred
Drake, Terry Lickona, Joan Jett, Steve Rosenthal, Nora Guthrie……a list too long
to share here. But, beyond giving our band the equivalent of a rock and roll
university year abroad, they gave the entire world the most priceless gift:
Inspiration. So….Gracias a todos, Mexico….we couldn’t have done it without you.
Before long, our rag tag crew of ne’er-do-wells was stumbling from city to city,
coast to coast, taking in every drop (!) of 100 proof American culture we could
squeeze. Dancing in a New Orleans second line parade, laying under the desert
stars in Joshua Tree, walking the streets of Chicago in -30 degree weather…it was
an American dream come true. Our only responsibility was to share it with you,
and the brave people of HBO trusted us with that much. (very freely, I might
add.) Blind faith? Perhaps. But, without Nina Rosenstein, we would not be the
people who we are today. Looking back, she gave us something immeasurably
generous: some of the greatest memories of our lives. These people and places
that we experienced have filled our hearts…and ultimately our songs. So, thank
you, Nina. We are yours. But, focused on the moment, we never in our wildest
dreams could have imagined the whirlwind 23 months that lay ahead of us. We
just put one foot in front of the other, and kept moving….
I must admit, I never looked at our schedule. I was too scared. I knew that this
was it. This was the big one. There was talk of stadiums, and anniversaries, and
TV shows. South Africa, Korea, Colombia. Letterman and Glastonbury. It all
seemed too good to be true! But, as always, we kept our heads down and tried to
appreciate every single moment as it fled. Because, you realize, none of this was
ever supposed to happen. Ever. As we approached our twentieth anniversary, it
was hard not to look back on all of those years and smile while shaking our heads
in wonder and disbelief. From the Mike Watt van tour of 1995, to RFK stadium in
Washington DC (my hometown gig) July 4th, 2015…those dots don’t necessarily
connect in real life, you know? It still boggles the mind. But, the spoils of these
blessings are not lost upon us. We count every last one.
Even the disasters.
A lucky break? Yeah, you could call it that. Gothenburg was a swift reminder that
life is short, and that we’re all here to live it together, no matter what adversity
you’re faced with. (Music! The perfect remedy!) Sure, weeks and weeks of
shuffling around hotel rooms on my butt with a cast on my leg, trying to pack my
suitcase alone before lobby call got pretty fucking stale pretty fucking quick. But,
as always, I just put one foot in front of……well, the same one for a while there…
And then everything changed. The energy. The atmosphere. THE THRONE. I was
no longer afraid to look at the schedule, I was glued to it. The challenge that we
faced from there on out became more of a mission, or a dare, if you will. And it
showed. Pat’s smile got even wider (an infallible barometer of all things), Chris’s
solos got even faster (thank God someone knows what they’re doing up there),
Nate’s stage moves more daring (I once noticed him just to the left of me) and
Taylor’s drum set….well….it got pinker. But not without the help of scores of
hardworking bad asses that some might call the Foo Fighters road crew (we like
refer to them as family, in a very Manson Family kind of way…) They ultimately
deserve the lion’s share of credit for keeping this old circus tent erect for the past
6 months. So, let’s all have a nice, warm diet Coke for them tonight. They’re the
hardest working motherfuckers in the business. Cheers.
And so we trudged on. Any fatigue was met with an explosion of energy once the
curtain went up. Any pain was met with the adrenaline of thousands of voices
singing along. Every one of you kept us alive for a while there. One night, at a
point where I felt like I was at the end of my rope, it came to me that these few
hours we have together every night were something like a heavy blanket to
retreat under. I could always rely on our time together to get me to the next stop.
Again, and again. From Chicago to Cesena.
That being said….we’ve always been pretty good at knowing when to call it a day.
You just….know. You get that feeling that, if you’re not careful, you’ll run out of
bread crumbs to find your way home and be lost in the woods forever. It hit me a
few months back, crept up on me and tapped me on the shoulder as if to say
“Hey…don’t spend it all in one place, asshole.” A sobering reminder that all good
things must come to an end. Of course…we could keep going. After all, we’d made
it this far, right? What’s another 20 years?
Around that time we arrived in Austin, Texas for the Austin City Limits festival.
A massive gig, two weekends and hundreds of acts, it was to be some of our final
American performances for this album. There’s a certain bittersweet relief to
that. On one hand, you’re carrying these monumental experiences under your
wing as you anticipate life outside of a tour bus. On the other hand, you fear that
the thrill and joy of sharing music with people all over the world will leave you
like an empty shell when it’s gone. It becomes your everything. And that’s
terrifying.
The Saint Cecilia Hotel, named after the patroness saint of music, is known as “A
lush retreat from the world”. And, believe me, that it is! 14 rooms and a small
bar, it’s tucked away in the trees within a bustling, Austin neighborhood. As our
van pulled up in the wee hours of September 30th, 2015, I was struck with a
rather impulsive idea: to record some songs on our days off to give to the world as
a “thank you” for the last 2 years. Though there’s a world class recording studio
just on the other side of the fence (Arlyn Studios, look it up.), the hotel manager,
Jenny offered that we record in the hotel. A most generous, but unrealistic offer.
Though, after rolling it around in my head a few times, it made perfect sense!
Returning to the city where the entire Sonic Highways concept was born, loading
in one last time to a room that was never designed to be a recording studio a la
Sonic Highways, and making some music! Fate? Destiny? I was too tired to figure
that kind of shit out, so I hit the sack, woke up the next morning and started
making some calls…
By 6 pm the next day, the office was transformed into a control room and the bar
was littered with microphones and cables. Amps were in the kitchen. Drums in
front of the fireplace. Instant studio, courtesy of the legendary Kevin Szymanski!
(Those fancy computer things are pretty convenient! More on that another
time….) Margaritas were made, friends came to visit, the sun went down, and
before long we started making enough noise to drive the neighbors to start
drinking along with us. Riffs and ideas were thrown around, songs that were lost
in the shuffle over the years, songs that were left unfinished. Like a musical
retrospective, we were going through decades of songs no one has ever heard,
pieces left on the cutting room floor from every album. Our own sonic scrapbook.
(The Neverending Sigh is 20 years old! Was once called 7 corners for all you die
hards out there…) Without the usual pressure or expectation of making an
“album”, we sat happy and relaxed as we played. A virtual “This Is Your Life” of
the Foo Fighters. It was so good, but again, bittersweet knowing that it was all
soon coming to an end.
By midnight, the Preservation Hall Jazz Band had arrived, and the “session”
turned into a full on party. Guitars were abandoned for horns and the room
started swinging (spinning?). People danced between the cables and
microphones, dancing behind the bar, strumming acoustic guitars on the patio.
Danny Clinch did what Danny Clinch does, capturing the moments in his
beautiful pictures between cocktails. Gary Clark Jr. sat on the patio in the
candlelight, jamming along with friends from a couch. As the hours passed, the
atmosphere had reached exactly what every recording experience should be: A
celebration. “Always record! Always record!” said Jack Black in that infamous
Tenacious D episode from years ago. Truer words have never been spoken.
Because you just might miss something that you’ll never get back again.
Moments that happen once in a lifetime. By the time that weekend was over, we
had recorded 5 songs in that tiny room.
Weekend two was spent recording vocals and guitars in my bedroom, room 4.
More friends, more margaritas, a fire in the fire pit. The most fabulous Cambria
Harkey floated in, slinging her camera to insure that this wasn’t all just a dream.
The porch was buzzing with activity as I did vocals in my bathroom, stepping in
and out to listen to the previous takes. The coffee table became a pile of guitar
pedals and scribbled lyrics, beer bottles and ashtrays. At one point, a familiar
face walked in and said, “Dave…..it’s Ben Kweller…..” It had been years! Such a
talented young man. We hugged, hit play to listen to the last vocal take, and he
instinctively started singing the perfect harmony to my line. Without hesitation, I
immediately said, “Get your ass in there and sing it right now.” So he picked up
the coffee stained piece of hotel stationary with my lyrics penciled on it and
banged out his part in two glorious takes. Always record, ladies and gentlemen.
Always record. The night faded, friends and family scattered, and I fell asleep
with my still glowing amp at the foot of my bed.
It was heartbreaking to leave that place, to say the least. I honestly feel like we
left a piece of our band there as we were being torn away from it. The perfect
unity of life, and love, and music is something that only comes around so often
and in certain circumstances. When you feel it coming on, you have to take hold
of it. That place and those people made it possible for our band to take one, big
final breath before the curtain closes. Thankfully, we have evidence of this in
these songs that we’re giving to you today. Thank you, Saint Cecilia. You made us
feel right at home.
And, the music? Maybe these songs are the breadcrumbs that will help us find
our way back when it’s time. We could use a nice wander through the woods right
about now. Another empty journal, another tap on the shoulder…those things are
never far behind. It’s what lies ahead in those woods that excites me now….
So tonight, as I sit in my Berlin hotel room on our final tour for this album,
counting down the days until we return home, I can’t help but wonder when we
will see each other again. Who knows? But, with everything Foo Fighter related,
it will only be when it feels right. And that’s a feeling that’s easy to feel.
To each and every one of you that made the past few years the best our band has
ever had, thank you. You have all given us so much, and we are eternally
grateful.
For real.
One foot in front of the other….
Dave