Review: VIOLET GROHL - “Be Sweet To Me”

If a certain distrust towards the “sons of” already prevailed, Leo Gassmann recently gave it the final blow. The singer and actor defined his category, the children of art, as a “minority” (comparable to women) which, evidently, suffers from quite a few discriminations and stereotypes.

They would therefore be frowned upon, snubbed, forced to work twice as hard to emerge: I have my doubts. The surname helps and clears paths that would otherwise be precluded even just for access to the basic level, entry into the system. Which means you have already avoided a good 50% of the effort. Let's say rather that the real difficulty is to handle, on a personal level, the comparison with a close family member (but here we enter into psychological dynamics that we willingly leave to the specialists).

According to Gassmann the son's reasoning, Violet Grohl should also be part of the mistreated minority of artists' children, and therefore arouse a certain embarrassment just for the fact of sharing the surname of a former Nirvana. The very young singer, in fact, has just made her musical debut with the album “Be Sweet To Me”, and if the album sounds not bad, you have to thank those genes inherited from her father's side (but also the bunch of keys to open the right doors). Raise your hand if you wouldn't have benefited from it. Yet, if the talent isn't there – this is a rule that applies to everyone – sooner or later the system will eliminate you, even if at the beginning it seems to have rewarded you.

In fact, the problem is not the children of art, privilege does not write songs, Violet Grohl, at least at first listen, seems to demonstrate this: we recognize the starting advantage, but 'Be Sweet To Me' is not an interesting work because it is the album of Dave Grohl's daughter; It's notable because, quite simply, it sounds like a Hole record. And these days, if we can afford it, returning our minds to the old glories of grunge thanks to a twenty-year-old who has to contend with the numbers of Billie Eilish and company, is a gift from the rock gods.

If we really can't avoid the topic of “minority” for what it really means (not a number or a percentage, but a category that does not enjoy the same privileges as the majority) then let's talk about it while remaining within the perimeter of reasonableness. We are talking about those who historically had to conquer that space with much more effort. Women, for example. Especially in rock.

“Be Sweet To Me” is an album worth listening to because Violet Grohl is a musician who grew up, one feels, on bread and grunge.

If her father then gave her a hand in having the album produced by Justin Raisen, former producer for Kim Gordon and Charli PJ Harvey, the Pixies, just to name a few.

In the album you can feel the biting imprecision of the 90s, a conscious irregularity, that raw and rough “I don't know what” that the musical militants of the early years of the last century know well, softened however by a voice that never tries to overwhelm the sound, but respects it.

Nostalgia effect? Yes, without a doubt. Good times that will never return? Also. But given that, in recent times, the new generations are nourished by revivals and retro music, why not imagine a future in which those who pick up the instruments will not be the usual cover band, but perhaps a twenty-year-old who is not resigned to looking like Rosalìa and Taylor Swift and does not aspire to wear high-heeled boots and a corset on stage, but a checked flannel shirt.

“Decide for yourself if I'm worthy,” she says. The phrase we would have liked to hear even from those who complain about having enjoyed a privilege. We know the answer. We have decided.