The title of Violet Grohl’s debut album, “Be Sweet to Me,” started as an inside joke.
“‘Be Sweet to Me’ is a phrase that my best friend and I say to each other when we’re play-fighting,” says the rising singer. “It’s what we do to put an end to it. Like, ‘Oh, be sweet to me!’”
The phrase might also carry a double meaning, one Grohl is still parsing. At some point in the naming process, someone in her circle asked Grohl if she was making a plea. Remembering that moment, Grohl pauses to consider.
“I guess it can be seen as a pretext for the album. Just … be sweet,” she says. “But at the same time, it’s literally just what my best friend and I say to each other when we’re calling each other idiots.”
Intentional or not, no one could blame the 20-year-old for inserting an earnest request for audiences to proceed with kindness as she readies her debut album, which finally landed Friday.
The reasons are pretty self-explanatory: Grohl is the eldest child of modern rock icon Dave Grohl, the highly decorated founder and centerpiece of Foo Fighters and onetime drummer of Nirvana, and his wife, former model and TV producer Jordyn Blum. In an age of “nepo” accusations and internet dogpiles, it would be completely understandable for Grohl to feel anxious about her album’s reception.
But if she is, it doesn’t show. On a warm day in mid-May, Grohl appears relaxed and self-assured — but not arrogant — as she idles on a sofa in a cozy Studio City ADU owned by her publicist. Encased in a long, black sleeveless dress, she’s giving a mixture of off-duty rock star and summer goth. Her arms host an array of intricate tattoos; I spot a raven, a skull and a vintage lace fan. Next to her is a bulging Balenciaga mini bag, and a pair of oversized sunglasses on her head are perched atop a mop of jet black curls. The high contrast of her pale, makeup-less skin and swept back hair makes her round, gray-blue eyes appear even more pronounced.
“Everyone wants you to be an idealized version of … not even yourself, but of what they want you to be,” she says. “Sorry, that’s just not gonna happen with me.”
(Bella Newman)
Any time spent with her reveals that Grohl is the sort of person who is ultra-sensitive to the energy of places, people and even the long-deceased. In her free time, Grohl is an avid lover of anything paranormal. “The same time I got into horror movies, I started watching ‘Ghost Adventures’ on Travel Channel,” she says. “It totally sent me down this rabbit hole of the supernatural.”
When I ask if she’d ever made contact with any ghosts, Grohl nods emphatically before describing a trip to a hunting estate near the Scottish Highlands. “It is the most haunted place I’ve ever been in my whole life,” she says. “I walked into the house, and it was like a blast of cold air, chills everywhere. It’s this instinctual feeling of, I’m not alone here … I heard footsteps and disembodied voices, I saw shadows, I had crazy f–ing dreams. It’s so eye-opening, but it’s not evil or negative.”
Chilling films and Lynchian surrealism pervade the tracklist of “Be Sweet to Me,” which relies on symbolic lyricism to illustrate coming-of-age stories. From a sonic perspective, listeners will be thrilled to know that her debut does not just make for an entertaining listen — it’s a dedicated towpath to the very squealing heart of alternative rock, built by an artist who understands her music history on a granular level. Across a tight 11 tracks, “Be Sweet to Me” careens across late-’80s and ‘90s experimental genres, from ripping alt-rock on “Bug in the Cake” to hazy dream pop on “Mobile Star” to aggro Clinton-era alt metal on “Often Others,” and even a bit of chugging hardcore on “Cool Buzz.”
As many references as she brought to the recording process, led by producer Justin Raisen (a known collaborator of Charli XCX and Kim Gordon, who made the introduction), Grohl is not attempting to cosplay the grunge era. Instead of simply mirroring influences, she deftly puts her own spin on each arrangement with inventive, grabby arrangements, razor-sharp production and her versatile vocals, which can bellow like Courtney Love, murmur like PJ Harvey or turn ethereal like Elizabeth Fraser.
“Justin has a crew of musicians that he works with, and they’re all close friends of his,” Grohl explains of the album’s backing band, which Raisen assembled to mimic the Wrecking Crew, a loose collective of session players who appeared on some of the most beloved albums of the 1960s and ‘70s. “They’re the coolest, most talented, genuine music lovers, and seriously talented musicians … I’d never been in that kind of recording environment before. Everyone would throw out ideas or I would share a reference, and whatever it was about the song, [we’d ask] how we can build and make it a completely new, different thing.”
Growing up in Tarzana/Woodland Hills, Grohl says she’s been singing ever since she could speak. In a baby book, her mother wrote how Grohl, at 8 or 9 months, was “babbling and singing.” She took piano lessons with a teacher who taught her any Beatles song she wanted to learn. She later picked up the ukulele, and then a guitar. Now, it’s any piece of gear, from bass to drums to a lap dulcimer. “I just love messing around with different instruments and seeing all the different sounds I can make,” she says.
Grohl also had an ideal music-taste mentor in her father, who told his eldest all about Björk and acquiesced to playing Amy Winehouse’s “Rehab” on repeat. “I think I was 4 or 5, and I remember sitting in front of his computer, and he was talking about how she was from Iceland,” Grohl says of those days. “And I was like, ‘Oh, she’s the princess of Iceland. That was my idea of Björk from a young age. Björk’s ‘Hunter’ music video was a turning point for me.”
By adolescence, while on the road with the Foo Fighters, Grohl would make herself useful by assisting the band’s tour manager. She remembers: “I had a walkie-talkie, I would hand per diems out to people, I would run the envelopes around, and bring my dad a towel after the show, stuff like that.” The live-music atmosphere may have also sparked Grohl’s curiosity in songwriting, which she says began as a way of journaling. “I have cassette demos that I made with a tiny one-track recorder,” she remembers. “Then I started learning how to use Logic right before I turned 13, and that opened up this whole new world.”
One night in May 2018, on a break from the East Coast leg of the Foos’ Concrete and Gold tour, the elder Grohl headlined a benefit concert for the UCSF Benioff Children’s Hospital, where he encouraged his daughter, then only 12, to join him onstage to sing Adele’s “When We Were Young.” A few weeks later, back on tour, Grohl jumped onstage to help sing backup on a few tracks. “It wasn’t my first time singing on a stage, but it was my first time singing on a stage with that many people in [the audience],” she says of the second experience. “I was really scared, but once it was happening, and once it was over, I was like, ‘Oh, this is what I want to do. This is my purpose.’”
Chilling films and Lynchian surrealism pervade the tracklist of “Be Sweet to Me,” which relies on symbolic lyricism to illustrate coming-of-age stories.
(Bella Newman)
From there, Grohl became something of a live fixture — a beloved Foos adjunct performer. But clearly one with her own trajectory. In pre-pandemic 2020, Grohl joined the surviving members of Nirvana at the Art of Elysium Gala, where she sang “Heart-Shaped Box.” The next year, father and daughter recorded a duet of “Nausea” by L.A. classic punk favorites X. In 2022, Grohl opened the second tribute to late Foos drummer, Taylor Hawkins, with an aching rendition of Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah.”
It should definitely be said that Grohl is hardly pulling a Jakob Dylan as it relates to her parentage — a detail that actually makes her appear that much more self-actualized and approachable, simply because she isn’t trying to circumvent reality or engage in a furious round of name-dropping. She freely discusses the long evening car rides around Los Angeles she’d take with her dad and two younger sisters during the pandemic, the car becoming a music-recommendation feedback loop, with older and younger generations trading off DJ duties. “My sister and I introduced him to Jockstrap,” Grohl chuckles when I ask what bands she introduced her dad to during those rides. “I’d play him old jazz standards, hip-hop. It was a constant thing.”
During those evening rides, Grohl also drank up the city’s otherworldly, vaguely haunted visage. “There’s something special about L.A. that I can’t fully describe,” she says. “There’s inspiration everywhere, so many beautiful people and historic buildings. I love art about L.A. — when people reference L.A. in their music, movies, or books. I grew up here, and I’ve lived here my whole life. I just feel that deep connection to it all.”
Like any great artist, Grohl is a product of her surroundings, and that can’t help but include a very specific, unlikely upbringing. In her own matter-of-fact way, Grohl shrugs as she acknowledges the inescapable pressure of her last name. “Everyone wants you to be an idealized version of … not even yourself, but of what they want you to be,” she says. “Sorry, that’s just not gonna happen with me. You’re not gonna convince me to change. I’m doing this because I love music, and that’s all I’ve ever known. Everyone’s gonna want me to be something, and I’m not the person that will give in to that.”
It’s early in the morning, and Birmingham baseball coach Matt Mowry is at the supermarket looking through the flowers section before classes begin. He’s engaged in an unseen, often undervalued duty as a coach — providing comfort to players and their families.
One of his players, 16-year-old sophomore outfielder JJ Rodriguez, lost his father, Anthony, 53, on a Saturday morning last month when he died in his sleep at home. Mowry is looking for a bouquet of flowers to present to JJ’s mother, Nancy, before his first game back.
There are no easy answers how to help a family dealing with grief. Mowry went through his own tragedy in 2022 when his wife, Amy, died of cancer. He prays for her before each game, looking up to the sky while grasping his wife’s necklace, then kissing a ring that has her fingerprint tattooed on it.
The message Mowry told JJ: “Times are going to be tough There’s moments you’re going to break down. It’s OK. You don’t have to hide it.”
The reason No. 1-seeded Birmingham doesn’t open the City Section Open Division baseball playoffs until Thursday is because Anthony’s funeral is Wednesday, and players and coaches will be there to provide support.
Anthony Rodriguez, the father of Birmingham baseball player JJ Rodriguez, died last month.
(Eric Sondheimer / Los Angeles)
JJ missed a couple days of school and one game after his father’s death. He wanted to be alone and was skeptical about coming back any time soon.
“He would message me and tell me coming here and being around my teammates would make me more comfortable and get my mind off things,” JJ said of Mowry. “I wanted to be alone a little bit because my mind was not in the right place. But the day I came back, I learned these guys are my family.”
JJ has become an important part of his team, starting in left field while batting No. 9 in the order. The Patriots won their first West Valley League title in 20 years and are trying to win their sixth City title under Mowry.
JJ and his mother have appreciated the emotional support, allowing them to try to heal from their sorrow.
His mother told him, “Be strong for everyone else. Your dad will always be proud of you.”
There’s a candle in the room where his father was found.
“I sometimes go there and be alone at night and talk to myself,” he said.
Before games, JJ says a prayer and thinks of his father.
“Every game,” he said. “It’s for you, Dad.”
On May 23, the City final will take place at Dodger Stadium.
Imagine the thrill for players of the two teams who reach the final. They’ll get to walk the infield, put some grass in their pockets, look up into the stands, hang out in the dugout of the two-time defending world champions.
For JJ, his father won’t be able to watch him. Or maybe he will. Every day is a step forward to healing. It’s hard, but he’s got a coach watching over him.
“I talked to him about what my son went through in the same situation,” Mowry said. “I had him get back out with the guys and be there whether he practiced or played.”
The 19-year-old contestant and his best friend Jo, 19, from Liverpool are the youngest competitors taking on the challenge of racing against one another across more than 12,000km from Sicily to Mongolia.
In pursuit of the £20,000 prize, the pair embarked on another leg of their journey during tonight’s (April 30) episode, which marks the halfway point of the race.
Together with their fellow competitors, they tackled the longest leg of the race, travelling through the world’s largest landlocked country, Kazakhstan, and onwards into Uzbekistan.
Midway through their journey, they seized the opportunity to visit a local gym and try their hand at judo, as Kush is a keen Muay Thai practitioner back home, reports the Liverpool Echo.
However, the experience stirred up memories of his late father, who tragically took his own life during lockdown.
Speaking directly to camera, he began: “Coming to this gym, it means a lot to me. It’s more than just throwing and hitting fighting. There’s a lot of meaning behind it.”
In a deeply personal moment, he revealed: “I think back to memories with my dad. I found it sick to do what your dad does. Being in the gym, I wonder what he’s thinking. He would be standing on the side with a particular sort of smirk on his face, watching me do judo throws.”
Clearly emotional, Kush recalled: “I remember the day he passed. It was locked down and it was a real big shock. He had really poor mental health and he took his own life. You never forget that shock factor.
“I still think about him all the time. Being on this journey has brought back little moments and I wish I could sort of show who I am now because when you’re 14, I didn’t know who I was and I was still a child.
“I made a lot of mistakes when I was younger and I feel like, if I could sort of show him what I’ve learn’t…” The 19 year old was unable to finish his sentence as he dissolved into tears.
Viewers watching from home were left deeply moved by the heartbreaking moment, taking to social media to share their reactions. One fan wrote: “Poor Kush. He’s a lovely lad, they both are. #RaceAcrossTheWorld.”
Another said: “Kush opening up on the loss of his father at just 1 year old-oh man #RaceAcrossTheWorld.” A third wrote: “kush is breaking my heart omg #raceacrosstheworld.”
Yet another commented: “Damn! Kush lost 2 dads at such a young age. I’m sure they’re proud of him #RaceAcrossTheWorld.” While another added: “Such a heartbreaking leg for Kush and Joe – what humble lads they are #RaceAcrossTheWorld.”
Race Across the World is available to stream on BBC iPlayer
Casting her eye over it on the table, Sonnaz remarked: “I’m no builder, but needless to say, this looks like it’s seen much better days.” Concurring, Steve responded: “Yeah, I’ve done up old buildings, and I don’t think any of them were as bad as this.”
Stepping into the barn was Dawn Shrives from West Sussex, who jokingly told the experts they were looking at “ruins” before revealing it was an extraordinary model watermill constructed by her late father in 1996.
She explained: “He put it all together to go in front of our family home to replicate the red brickwork of the house. Every little brick he made by hand, individually, he wanted it to be a working watermill. Obviously, the years of it sitting on the ground, outside, the weather had gotten to it.”
Dawn went on to describe how her father had planned to install an underground chamber to make the watermill turn. Tragically, he passed away in 2014, and her mother subsequently moved to a smaller property, reports the Manchester Evening News.
She noted that with her mother now living in a bungalow, there is nothing left to remind her of her beloved late husband, underlining just how precious the watermill model truly is. Dawn continued: “He’s touched, every single piece of this. He’s crafted this, and she looks out her front window and sees this deteriorating; it’s just so sad to see.”
She went on: “So to have it brought back to life for the family, for mum, would just be amazing. Just to see it put back together and whole again, I think, is almost- we can’t even think of that.” As Steve outlined his intentions to repair the model, it was evident he faced a considerable challenge.
Ultimately, after crafting bricks to substitute those Dawn’s father had originally made, Steve succeeded in restoring the dilapidated model and incorporated water to make the wheel rotate as her father had envisioned decades earlier.
When the moment arrived to reveal the completed restoration, Dawn brought her mother, Pam, along to view the model. The two women were immediately moved to tears upon seeing it unveiled, astounded by Steve’s achievement.
Pam promptly thanked Steve as Dawn exclaimed: “Look at that! Isn’t that lovely?” Pam remarked: “Gosh, that’s amazing. You’ve done all of these (roof tiles). Gosh, thank you.”
Upon noticing the water feature surrounding the house, Steve activated it for the first time, demonstrating the functioning watermill. She observed: “It’s just beyond anything that we could’ve thought would ever happen to it, thank you.”
Addressing the camera directly, Dawn said: “The watermill just sums up a legacy that will now stay in the family, be preserved, and dad would be so pleased to know that it’s working and it’s loved and it’s still loved.” Pam agreed, adding: “It’s just the best thing we could have done, isn’t it?”
The Repair Shop is available to watch on BBC iPlayer.
