Drummers often go unnoticed until they’re gone. In recent months, two high-profile departures: Josh Freese from Foo Fighters and Zak Starkey from The Who, have put the spotlight on what happens behind the scenes in bands for a drummer, and how much has changed in how groups treat their members. These weren’t anonymous session players. Both were veterans. Both were integral to the live sound. And both, despite very different situations, exited in ways that said more about the inner workings of modern bands than any press release ever could.
Josh Freese had joined Foo Fighters in 2023 as a drummer under sensitive and public circumstances. Taylor Hawkins had passed away, and the band needed someone who could not only play with power and precision but carry the emotional weight of stepping into a role shaped by grief. Freese, a seasoned professional with a reputation for reliability and skill, fit the bill. He toured with the band, recorded with them, and appeared to be firmly in place. Then, in May 2025, he announced his departure, or rather, that the band had decided to “go in a different direction.” There was no explanation from Foo Fighters. Freese, to his credit, responded with a mixture of honesty and humour, posting a mock top ten list of reasons he might have been let go. The jokes were light, but the message was clear: he was surprised, perhaps disappointed, but not bitter. Fans appreciated the tone, even if they didn’t understand the decision. For a band so public about its grief and healing, the abruptness of the change left questions unanswered.
Zak Starkey’s exit from The Who, by contrast, played out with more tension. Starkey had been with the band for close to three decades. He was more than a hired gun, he was part of their identity on stage. In early 2024, reports emerged that Roger Daltrey was unhappy with Starkey’s playing at a Royal Albert Hall show. Soon after, Starkey was absent from the band’s orchestral tour. At first, it looked like he’d been fired. Then came a statement saying he hadn’t, that things were resolved. Weeks later, it was announced again that he was out, this time replaced by Scott Devours. Zak Starkey later claimed he had been asked to say he left voluntarily. He refused. In his version of events, he was fired, plain and simple. The back-and-forth didn’t help anyone. What could have been a straightforward announcement turned into a string of mixed messages, leaving fans confused and Starkey understandably frustrated.
These two departures show how bands are increasingly operating less like the democratic units they once appeared to be and more like businesses with rotating parts. In some ways, that’s understandable. Creative differences happen. Schedules shift. Sound evolves. Not every lineup can last forever. But there’s a way to handle change that acknowledges history and contribution. When a player has given years of their life to a band, has toured the world, recorded albums, and been part of key moments, they deserve clarity, not corporate ambiguity.
What stands out most is the contrast in tone between each Drummer. Josh Freese chose humour and dignity. Zak Starkey pushed back, refusing to accept a narrative he believed was false. Neither made a scene, but both made it clear that how a band handles exits matters. It matters to the person leaving, it matters to the fans, and it says something about the culture of the band itself.
There’s also the question of visibility. A Drummer, despite being at the heart of every live show, is often not front and centre in the public eye. They don’t always write the songs. They’re not always on the cover. But they hold the sound together. And when they leave, or are asked to leave, that shift affects more than just rhythm; it affects identity.
Bands have always changed lineups. That’s nothing new. But there’s a difference between evolving and replacing. A difference between moving forward and pushing aside. If a band wants to be seen as a family, it has to act like one. That means honesty, respect, and acknowledging when someone’s time is up without rewriting their role or erasing their presence.
In both these cases, the music will go on. Both exits highlight a shift in how established bands handle personnel changes. Long-time members are being replaced with little explanation, and in some cases, without acknowledgment. The recent changes suggest a growing trend where lineup decisions are made quietly, often with minimal transparency, regardless of the musician’s tenure or public recognition.