Cashed in DH’s Christmas tickets tonight, the “rock ‘n roll” part of his Sex, Drugs, and Rock ‘n Roll theme, and spent a solid two hours with these miscreants:

They’re not kidding about loud–my ears are still ringing. But that’s a good thing. Every once in a while, you need your innards cleaned out with a rock enema. Reminds you that although your outer shell might be graying and increasingly creaky, inside is a cool 27-year-old who has the whole Foo catalog on her iPod.

It was a great show, too. Dave Grohl can f*in swear–and scream (how he avoids laryngitis every other week, I have no idea), and shred on guitar. He broke a string on his acoustic during the middle set, played on a small round stage that got lowered from the ceiling (very cool). The band’s as good as he is, if not quite as versatile. Taylor Hawkins may even be a better drummer than Dave. Terrific lights, even if they seemed to be blinding us like errant SUV high-beams (the fact that we were in nosebleed didn’t help). Creative staging. These guys really get the whole “put on a show” thing. It was awesome. Rock royalty, I must say. I gotta see them again.