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Mr Dave Grohl is most certainly a Storyteller, and each story he shares is a journey through music history. Captivating from start to finish.

He describes his childhood and teen years in Virginia, where he first learnt to play the drums with only one lesson, practicing with pillows and keeping rhythm with his teeth! He shares his decision to leave school and follow his dreams to join the punk rock band Scream in the late 80s. Then joining Nirvana in the early 90s and being catapulted to mega stardom after the success of single ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit�� and the album Nevermind. He also goes into the eventual collapse of the band after the death of Kurt Cobain, and how he coped with that tragedy. It’s important to note this book is not a part bio on Nirvana nor is any ‘dirt�� spilled. So if you’re looking for that this may not be the one for you.

There is of course, plenty on the Foo Fighters and all the crazy adventures from some of their tours over the years. Including a chapter about a tour in Australia for Big Day Out on the Gold Coast in 2000 which resulted in a drunk driving arrest (which I remember was all over the news down here) lol

There are stories of fatherhood and the love and pride he has for his daughters. He shares special moments meeting his idols, Paul McCartney, AC/DC and Little Richard to name a few.

Overall, The Storyteller is funny, honest and full of amazing personal stories from an incredibly talented, down to earth, wonderful man who has created music that is loved by millions around the world.

I will leave you with these beautiful words he had to say about Kurt Cobain and his friend Jimmy Swanson (also passed).

“These deaths still resonate like a long echo throughout my life, and not a day goes by when I don't think of Kurt and Jimmy. There are simple reminders: A song on the radio that Jimmy would air-drum to while driving his old, beat-up Renault car. The pink strawberry milk that Kurt would sometimes buy at the gas station as a treat for himself. The smell of the cheap Brut cologne that Jimmy would douse himself in each morning, for no one to enjoy but himself. The Elmer Fudd hat that Kurt would often wear to hide his face from the public, and the white-framed Jackie O glasses that became his trademark. It seems that everywhere I turn there is a reminder to be found, and I have come to a place where they no longer break my heart; they make me smile.

But it's when I sit down at a drum set that I feel Kurt the most. It's not often that I play the songs that we played together, but when I sit on that stool, I can still picture him in front of me, wrestling with his guitar as he screamed his lungs raw into the microphone. Just like staring at the sun will burn a spot into your retinas, his image will forever be burned in mine when I look past my drums to the audience before me. He will always be there.��