‘Color’ Balances Power, Tenderness

Foo Fighters “The Color and the Shape” (Roswell/Capitol)

There’s nothing radical about the Foo Fighters’ second album, “The Color and the Shape.” David Grohl who writes, sings, plays guitar and socks the drums for the Foo Fighters was Nirvana’s drummer, and his songs for the Foo Fighters draw on his previous band’s musical sources: the Beatles for chords and melodies, punk rock and Black Sabbath for impact, Neil Young for plaintive bluntness and the Pixies for sudden blasting choruses.

The subject matter isn’t exactly unprecedented, either: breaking up and making up, anger and loneliness and confusion. But rock songs don’t usually depend on grand innovations. Timing, ingenuity and conviction can be all it takes to make rock’s common materials ring with passion.

That’s what happens on “The Color and the Shape,” as Grohl balances power and tenderness, whipsaw riffing and wistful tunes.

The album eradicates the tentativeness of the Foo Fighters’ 1995 debut album, which Grohl made as a one-man studio group before he recruited a working band. “The Color and the Shape” was made by the Foo Fighters as a group, with Pat Smear on guitar and Nate Mendel on bass, while Grohl played guitar and drums after the band’s initial drummer left. (Taylor Hawkins later joined the band on drums.)

The lyrics detail a romance on the point of fracture, as the singer ricochets between wanting to get away and longing to reunite. “I’d rather leave than suffer this,” Grohl insists in “Monkey Wrench.” Yet later, in the gentle “Walking After You,” he sings, “If you walk out on me I’m walking after you.”

In “Everlong,” he is smitten by a woman’s voice as she sings; he tells her, “You’ve got to promise not to stop when I say when.” Now and then, Grohl also reflects on songwriting: “The best of them bleed it out/While the rest of them peter out.”

But the main pleasures of the album are wordless, in the way the songs hammer and float. Grohl gives his songs full-fledged melodies, even when he’ll shout the words, and he juggles verse-chorus-verse structures alongside songs that roam far from their starting points.

The Foo Fighters, with producer Gil Norton, understand the dynamics of guitar-driven rock as well as any band now recording.

Unexpected, head-turning pauses make the guitar riffs of “Monkey Wrench” bite harder; “February Star,” a ballad, starts quietly, builds in conventional steps, then daringly slows down and piles on guitars for grand closing choruses.

Throughout the album, Grohl’s drumming gives the songs momentum and buried tension. As he bashes without wasted motion, a quick double-time stroke may be the only warning that a song is about to explode.