Taylor Hawkins was so f***ing cool – Foo Fighters fans owe a lot to him

I remember the first time I heard a Foo Fighters record – I couldn’t get it into my ears fast enough

Taylor Hawkins, with his constant grin that made you happy just to look at him, was truly iconic (Getty Images for iHeartMedia)

I woke up this morning and had so many notifications, it was as if my phone was on fire. I knew something bad had happened before my eyes could send whatever signals they needed to wake up my brain. There were phone calls and messages from friends, family, work colleagues, ex-girlfriends.

It can’t be. Not Taylor. Surely, not Taylor.

Taylor Hawkins was so f***ing cool. Long blonde hair, top off, rocking shorts, looking like he should be eating ice cream on a Californian beach, but actually smashing the living daylights out of a drum set for the biggest band in the world.

Only last week, I wrote a piece about mortality and the fragility of life. This is the worst kind of irony. I love the Foo Fighters.

I can clearly remember the first time I heard one of their records. It was at a sleepover; my mate Shaun and I were staying at our friend Mike’s and we watched I Know What You Did Last Summer, which scared me so much it put me off horror films for life and intensified my hatred for my paper round. To lighten the mood, Mike stuck on a CD. He played “Doll”, then “Monkey Wrench” and “Hey, Johnny Park!” – tracks from Foo Fighters’ The Colour and the Shape album. I couldn’t get it into my ears fast enough.

Without fail, I would listen to “Everlong” whilst getting dressed for school in the morning. Everything about that song is perfect to me. The gentle way it starts, the lyrics, the way it builds, the bass, the energy, the drums – my God, the drums!

Yes, I know that Dave Grohl did the drums on that album. And yes, he is widely regarded as the best drummer in the world. But that’s what made Taylor even more badass: he stepped up like it was nothing. Their friendship was joyous and their bond felt almost tangible.

I had Foo Fighters posters on my wall; I bought every album, book and pin badge; I even remember watching Jim Carrey in Me, Myself & Irene and liking the film more because “Breakout” played over the end credits. Without even realising, I got up today and put a Foo Fighters T-shirt on. That’s how ingrained they are in my life; it was not a conscious decision but, rather, second nature.

I first saw these guys in the flesh when they headlined Reading in 2002. They finished with “Everlong” and there was a firework display. It was one of those moments where everything in your life suddenly makes sense. I’ve felt that every other time I’ve seen them, too – from the smaller, more intimate gigs in Cardiff, to the all-consuming monster gigs at Wembley.

Anyone who knows me will tell you that Dave Grohl is my hero. I’d melt if I ever met the guy – which I almost did. For seven years at CBeebies, I’d been banging on about getting him in to read the bedtime story (each night, a celebrity guest reads one to our young viewers). In September last year, it finally happened, but, typically, I couldn’t make it. The universe obviously wasn’t ready for me to bear-hug a full-grown man, whilst muttering “I love you”, and losing the ability to speak in full sentences.

I feel immensely lucky to have been able to write a card and tell him what he means to me. It was probably way more coherent than anything I could have said in person, and to know he read it meant the world. For him to have signed a copy of his book with a little note for me was next level.

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I can’t begin to imagine how Dave is feeling today.

I never met Taylor. I never got to tell him, or the rest of the band, that their music changed my life. It was the soundtrack for when I first fell in love; it was there when loved ones died; it was there on graduation; it was there for roadtrips and holidays; it was there when I felt alone; it was there for the best and the worst bits of me.

Taylor Hawkins, with his constant grin that made you happy just to look at him, was truly iconic. And I want to say: thank you, man.