Matt Heath: Why Dave Grohl made me feel like an a-hole

I went to Sydney last week to interview David Grohl from the Foo Fighters. I was so excited. He's a hero of mine. But he made me feel like a real a-hole.

Not because he was mean or arrogant. The complete opposite. This guy is the biggest rock star in the world. He's worth $300 million. He's released nine wildly successful albums in his current band. He's considered one of the best drummers in the world. He's sold out every massive stadium on planet earth.

He has every reason to be a dick to the last interviewers after a long day of interviews. But he wasn't, he was nice. Generous with his time and answers. If I was him I would be horrible. Impatient. Precious. Demanding. You probably would be too. But not Dave. He's a genuinely good guy. Which is part of the reason he is so successful and loved. People who meet him rush home to write humiliatingly gushing rubbish like this about him.

Wednesday arvo at the InterContinental Double Jeremy Wells and I were led to an adjacent hotel room to the one in which the IV would take place. It was great because we could hear the other interviewers' questions which we stole. It wasn't great when we heard Dave say to his people: "Please tell me that was the last interview, my ass hurts, please, no more." It was a demoralising moment for a couple of dudes who had flown all the way from Auckland for 15 minutes of fame with Grohl.

There we were sitting waiting like a couple of idiots with our highly offensive sexual gift for the great man. Then it all got better again. Dave realised we had heard him saying he couldn't be bothered doing our interview. He apologised profusely. He looked mortified. He genuinely cared that he might have hurt the feelings of a couple of bottom-feeder radio punishers from New Zealand.

Nice guy. But we're not talking Ned Flanders. Dave is hardcore too. We were lucky enough to be invited along to a tiny venue where Dave and Foo Fighters drummer Taylor were playing covers with side project Chevy Metal. Dave Grohl introed the band, yelling over the mic, "I've been in this country for two days, is there anyone in the house who can give me a liver transplant, I'm serious, I can feel it in my liver, can you feel it in your liver, can you feel it in your liver, I'm going to make you feel it in your f***ing liver tonight." He did. Jesus, it was a good show.

Kick-ass versions of David Bowie, Tom Petty and Black Sabbath songs. My Sharona and Turning Japanese were particular highlights. All the more impressive because he performed most of the 90-minute set with a ciggie hanging out of his gob. Old school. No one is going to tell Dave Grohl he can't smoke inside.

I am no Dave Grohl. I can't count the amount of times I have been rude or mean to people because I was in a bad mood. Tired or overworked. I have no right to behave like that. I am a no one. I don't feel good about it. But I do feel great about a practical joke I played on my kids when they were little. I told them that sausage rolls were called David Grohls.

I would send them into bakeries to order David Grohls over the counter. Good times. Strangely they would mostly come out with sausage rolls. They wouldn't be handed any change back but they would have steaming hot sausage rolls for me to eat. Sending your kids into order sausage rolls as David Grohls is not the kind of thing a nice guy like David Grohl would do.

New Zealanders love a nice guy. We turn on people who rate themselves unduly and duly alike. We love a super-talented humble person. Sir Colin Meads, Keven Mealamu, Irene van Dyk. Dave Grohl has changed the world with his music. He is the definition of success. But it's down to more than just tunes and musical excellence.

This article was first published on nzherald.co.nz and is republished here with permission.