Dear Dave Grohl,

I realize that your latest album has been out for awhile, so this isn't exactly coming at a time that would make sense to anybody. Before I go on, I want you to know that I do like you and your gum-chewing, wisecracking slouchy drummer demeanor. I'm not sure why I felt it was necessary to say that, but it seemed like the following criticism would be unfair without it. However, the music, for the last several albums, hasn't been grabbing me like I think you would like to grab me (maybe not, maybe you don't want to grab me).

I thought you were highly entertaining at the Police's show at Dodger Stadium where you ran all over the field and climbed a wall of speakers or whatever it was (my seats were horrible for that show; I couldn't see a damn thing), and it was pretty exciting that the Foo Fighters opened for the Police: I assume Taylor had a few awesome fan moments, what with his looking up to Stewart Copeland and everything, and I think that's cool, since Stewart is so awesome. But, sometimes I wish you'd get back behind the drums, where you belong. Sometimes (truthfully? a lot of times) I feel like the music is more mediocre than it should be, so, Dave, it's time we had a talk.

It's not necessary for every song to have a soft, pretty section, and a rockin', yelling part. Yelling at me doesn't make you a man. It doesn't make me appreciate the soft pretty parts. It just makes me go, what the hell is he so angry about? The funny thing about it, too, is, your screaming never really conveys anything to me other than, wow, that must hurt. And I don't think I'm exaggerating too much when I use the words "every song." It's definitely noticeable. First time I heard "The Pretender" I knew what to expect after the first four bars. Come on, guy. You've been around. You obviously love music, but that particular trick you've had up your sleeve? We know. We get it. You've got amazing lungs. You grow a mean beard. You were the drummer for Nirvana (even though we kind of like Dale Crover a little better). Mix it up a little.

All I'm saying is,dude: stop yelling at me.

Thank you for "Everlong,"
Irene Palma