Roy Jurgens on October 8th, 2018

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■ Photos by Michelle Shiers (see a second gallery at the end of this post)

As far a secrets go, this one was pretty poorly kept.

Rumors swirled last week about how Nirvana would rise from the ashes — as much as it could — at Cal Jam. There was talk about “Deervana,” with grainy black-and-white GIFs bouncing around social media, hinting at something special. And it all came to fruition at the end of the Foo Fighters’ fiery set during the second annual festival they headlined and hosted on Saturday in San Bernardino.

Dave Grohl took his place on the drum throne, Pat Smear wielded guitar. And a towering Krist Novoselic plucked his bass, grinning madly. Taking the unenviable job behind the microphone was Deer Tick’s John McCauley, who did a decent enough job matching Kurt Cobain’s timbre and melancholic howl. McCauley led the band through “Serve the Servants,” “Scentless Apprentice” and “In Bloom” — perhaps not the hits the millennials wanted (many not alive in 1994, the year of Cobain’s death), but deep cuts that showed an appreciation for the band’s history. 

Then the final three songs of the night were about legacy. Taking McCauley’s spot on lead vocals was none other than another legend, Joan Jett, who had also led the band when they were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2014. “Breed,” gave way to a spirited “Smells Like Teen Spirit,” which gave way to a sentimental “All Apologies,” with the Distillers’ Brody Dalle joining on bass. And just like that, to the sounds of the crowd gently singing, “All in all is all we are,” the second Cal Jam perished into the misty night.

Grohl has shown love for toying with just about every musical past except for his own. Perhaps it was time for these songs to be played again, despite those purists clutching their pearls and screaming blasphemy. Cobain wasn’t Jesus incarnate. He was a young man with a gift for melody, whose depression led him and Nirvana to a tragic end. Grohl was the “happy” one in Nirvana, he didn’t suffer for his craft in the same way, which is perhaps why his phenomenal success with the Foo Fighters is often derided by purists. They hate that Grohl can play the alt-rock hero while gleefully talking about Rush. If he was cool, he’d only like Minor Threat and just the early stuff at that. But that isn’t who Grohl is; he’s not the surly, disconsolate figure that so many fallen Seattle figures are. He’s just a dad who wants to write catchy, emotive tunes and put on shows that let his audience to escape to a better place. 

A utopia of rock ’n’ roll, carnival rides, pink flamingos and bacon-wrapped turkey legs, Cal Jam was certainly the place to forget what was taking place 2,247 miles away in Washington, D.C.

Cal Jam is Grohl’s living embodiment of that better place. A utopia of rock ’n’ roll, carnival rides, pink flamingos and bacon-wrapped turkey legs, it was certainly the place to forget what was taking place 2,247 miles away in Washington, D.C. The undercard featured such fighters as Seattle’s four-piece femme fatales, Thunderpussy. There was Montreal noise merchants METZ. There was the genre-bending Yorkshire spitfire of Yungblud. There was Australia’s next great hope, Gang of Youths, who unfortunately sullied their brilliant set by whining about their time slot. There were Rhode Island roustabouts Deer Tick, who were at their sloppy finest.

But no one, I repeat no one, ruled the side stages with the same viciousness as Tenacious D. The joke that became a movie that became a band is as hilarious as they are musical. The twin acoustics played by Jack Black and Kyle Gass rock almost as hard as Ronnie James Dio’s leather studded codpiece. Let’s not get ridiculous, nothing rocks harder than Ronnie James Dio’s leather studded codpiece. Portly and hirsute, the duo summoned Satan in a way main stage upstarts Greta Van Fleet could only hope to one day. Sure, the kids are good at what they do, but when the derivative Zeppelin karaoke is devoid of anything remotely original, you end up with a xerox copy of a one trick pony.

Manson’s powers over nature were unmistakable, as the skies briefly opened as she launched into Garbage’s hit “Only Happy When It Rains.” 

Far more dangerous was Shirley Manson, who furiously paced the stage while the rest of Garbage shot out blasts of guitar and drums far more raucous than their studio recordings. Manson’s powers over nature were unmistakable, as the skies briefly opened as she launched into their hit “Only Happy When It Rains.”

Iggy Pop arrived in his usual attire, shirtless and wearing the gorgeous patina of 71 hard years lived. His backing band, led by Grohl’s bro and Queens of the Stone Age head honcho Josh Homme, were suavely attired in smoking jackets. Obviously some sort of genetic anomaly, Pop gyrated, twirled, leapt and uncoiled his way through opening number “Lust for Life,” and it went uphill from there. Featuring songs from 2016’s muscular “Post Pop Depression,” Pop also mined the very beginning of his solo career, reviving classics such as “The Passenger,” “Repo Man” and “Funtime.” 

From the opening buzz chords of last year’s “Run” to the closing number, 1995’s “This is a Call,” the Foos’ 18-song set bounced along their entire 23-year career. Their live show does much to help understand their widespread appeal, as hit after hit pelts your ears. Grohl’s enthusiasm was infectious across a tired crowd, bringing them to their feet with a full on assault of emotion and power chords. “These Days” held a special poignancy in Grohl’s voice, while songs like “All My Life,” “My Hero” and “The Pretender” didn’t lose any of their melodic qualities despite being played at 200 mph. He’s married Springsteen’s sweat with Beatlesque melodies while maintaining Nirvana’s noise level. It’s a potent mix that attracts a fan base that varies from millennials to the middle aged, music snobs be damned.

Given the 30,000 drunken happy souls in attendance, it would be downright unreasonable if a Cal Jam didn’t return in 2019.