This is not so much a record review as a love letter.  I am hardly impartial when it comes to Foo Fighters and I cannot imagine not liking anything they do, especially after almost 13 years of hardcore fandom.  But I am especially enamored of this album.  At the end of every song I am compelled to shout “fuckin’ A, Foo Fighters!”  I don’t know that I have ever felt that way about another album of theirs—or anyone else’s. 

The album-opening “Bridge Burning” yanks you in by the throat and then kicks you in the chest back to your seat.  “These are my famous last words!” it begins, and goddammit, he ain’t fuckin’ around!  Reminiscent of 2002’s One by One, “Rope” brings it down a bit—but not much, as the screaming is just getting started.  “Dear Rosemary” is a cool, catchy number that you’ll be singing when you…