Here's the continuation from my previous review of the Foo Fighters In Your Honor:

Everything about this album is exactly what you would expect from a great album. It's not trying to hard or struggling for message. It's nostalgic yet feels new. Dave Grohl’s raspy vocals in previous albums may have seemed pushed, but not here. It’s readily apparent that the band approached this album determined to produce a quality record that could define their sound for the ages. And that I suppose is the point.

A great throwback aspect of In Your Honor, it’s a double album; you get the feeling, while listening, that if it were plausible, the two discs would have been made back to back. There is no accidental genius here. The pure energy and egotism of the first disc is wonderfully balanced by the soulful peace one experiences during the second time around.

A lesser band, or even an earlier version of the Foo themselves, would have cut 2-3 songs and attempted a mega-album trying to rearrange the music to make it all fit together. But to their credit, the Foo Fighters just let it go. The separation highlights the differences and embraces each disc's identity. You know the mood you're heading for when you pop them in the CD player, but you don't know where or how it will take you there.

The first disc is most decidedly plugged in. The second reminds us of the best of what acoustic music can be, and was the thing that really sold me. As you groove, content in your musical buzz, your mind naturally wanders to the good times you remember feeling like this, like something out of a Norah Jones song before she won eight thousand Grammys and shone like the sun. Then, bam! It’s Norah Jones grooving a duet with a no longer raspy voiced Grohl. I don’t know of any other potentially great album with this level of dedication to the chill feeling. While this isn’t my favorite album right now, I’ve only had it 2 weeks and it’s climbing up the list fast.

And maybe I won’t know for some time; the real difference between a really good album and a great album is its posterity. If some 14-year old kid can pick up the album in 20 years and fall in love with the music and if it can prompt that kid to pick up other albums of the era and open their eyes to a whole new aural world, then you’ve got a great album. Think The Clash’s London Calling, Nirvana’s Nevermind, or Dark Side of The Moon by Pink Floyd. Timeless and classic, there aren’t very many of them, and you won’t really know for years.