There are two things that I generally don’t care about at all: radio rock and greatest hits compilations.

But in this case, I will make a huge whomping exception.

For one, at this point in my life, I have little interest in diving deep into the extensive catalog of the Foo Fighters. However, I am not above admitting that Dave Grohl & Co. have produced some of the best radio rock the genre can offer. This collection of singles (in no particular order) is wall to wall bangers, showcasing Grohl’s perfect instincts for writing rock and roll hits.

For all their commercial radio airtime, Foo Fighters does have a bit more punk cred than their compatriots. The group was formed out of the ashes of the legendary Nirvana, and recruited members from the dissolution of emo-godfathers Sunny Day Real Estate (Nate Mendel still plays bass with them). And despite the radio-friendly anthems that fill this disc, there is an earnestness and rawness that belies even the most mainstream tracks (which in this collection is “Learn to Fly,” which features Grohl’s least gritty vocal performance).

True, Foo Fighters bears a superficial resemblance to the formulaic, ragged-throated, crotch-fueled music typically called Butt Rock. But when the Foo Fighters play loud guitar chords against four-four drum parts, they do it with integrity. In a way, it feels like the culmination of Kurt Cobain’s aim to marry abrasive punk with pop sweetness—he just wasn’t a good enough singer (in the conventional sense) to pull it off. Dave has both the chops and the shamelessness to sing what any lesser performer would turn into cheezy schlock. I mean, just imagine the mess “Best of You” could have been if it was done by a performer who didn’t realize just how embarrassingly sentimental it was (Prince doesn’t count).

Admittedly, the track list is a bit uneven. The second disc is made up of more obscure singles (I’ve only heard maybe two of these tracks before), and that’s even besides the two unreleased track, and an acoustic version of “Everlong“. “Wheels” may have been appropriately unreleased, flirting a little too closely with pop country in the verses (one reviewer called it “Weezer meets the Fray”).

The first disc, however, is well worth the price of the double LP. It showcases exactly why Foo Fighters are as well loved as they are. I grew up seeing every single one of these music videos on Fuse and MTV2, from the manic “All My Life” to the passionate “My Hero” to the paranoid “The Pretender.” Not to mention “Monkey Wrench” and the incomparable “Everlong.” Eight perfect tracks out of sixteen (mostly pretty good) isn’t a very bad deal—especially when those eight tracks are as strong as these ones.