Through glass, we lose our favourite toys.
I donāt think Iāll ever be able to explain what today actually felt like without sounding a little dramatic, but Iām going to try anyway.
A while ago, for my birthday, my boyfriend got us tickets to see the Foo Fighters at I-Days in Milan this July.
Theyāre his favorite band. I basically grew up with them. So theyāve always beenā¦ there. In the background, in different phases of my life, without me even realizing it.
Then, out of nowhere, this winter, my mom started listening to them. And not just casually ā she fell in love with them. To the point that she decided to come to the concert too, even though she hates the venue.
So now itās going to be the three of us: me, him, andā¦ my mom.
And somehow, that already made everything feel moreā¦ meaningful, even before today.
Then I saw a post from Virgin Radio ā a chance to attend a preview of the new album, Your Favourite Toy.
And I thought: āWell, if thereās a way to make this even more special for him, I have to try.ā.
So I did. I sent everything they asked for, plus a desperate little note like āplease, I need to make up for the fact that heāll have to survive the concert with his mother-in-lawā.
And somehowā¦ we got in.
But the thing is, once I was there, it stopped being about that.
The room was bright. Very bright.
Almost too bright for what was happening.
There were no shadows to hide in, no dim lights to soften anything ā just people, light, and whatever they were carrying inside.
Not empty quiet, but dense.
The kind of silence that feels shared. Like everyone was holding something in, waiting for the music to start.
And when it did, it didnāt feel like a typical listening event.
It felt like something else.
Almost like a collective ritual.
There was this idea that kept coming back while listening ā like looking at someone through glass. You can see them clearly, you feel like theyāre right there in front of you, but thereās this invisible barrier you canāt cross.
And thatās exactly what loss feels like.
Theyāre everywhere you look. In reflections, in memories, in small things.
But you canāt touch them anymore.
And somehow, this album sits in that space.
Not in the same way But Here We Are did, which felt raw and openly grieving. This feels like what comes after ā when the pain is still there, but itās been turned into something louder, sharper, almost restless.
The title track, Your Favourite Toy, hits right at the core of that.
The idea that something as simple as a toy can hold an entire world inside it ā a person, a moment, a version of yourself that doesnāt exist anymore.
āSomeone threw away your favorite toy for goodā sounds almost childish, but it lands like something much heavier.
Like losing something you didnāt even realize was holding you together.
And then thereās that line ā ātry not to choke on the glitterā ā which feels like a quiet, bitter commentary on visibility, on pressure, on how something shiny can slowly become suffocating.
But what really stayed with me wasnāt just one song.
It was the feeling of the whole room.
At some point, between the first half of the album and the second, there was this almost religious silence.
No one was just ālisteningā. Everyone was feeling something.
Like the music wasnāt just sound, but a way of digging into something shared.
My personal highlights ended up being:
with a soft spot for Asking For A Friend.
And I think it makes sense, because they all hit differently.
But more than anything, what stayed with me was this:
Itās sitting in a room full of strangers and realizing that somehow, this man ā Dave Grohl ā is putting into words something that belongs to all of you.
Itās turning a hole in your chest into something you can scream along to.
Itās not an event. Itās not promotion.
Itās a kind of collective healing.
A reminder that even in loss, even in chaos, thereās still connection.
Maybe thatās why the atmosphere felt like this strange mix of things I canāt fully separate:
silver, like reflections and distance
and amber, like warmth, like being close to someone
And when it ended, I walked out feelingā¦ full.
Full stomach, sure (the themed pizza and beer definitely helped),
Like my heart was warmer.
Like my mind was quieter.
Like my soul was just a little bit more rock and roll.
And now July feels closer than ever.
