Yayo Sanchez, known as KISS Guy, teams up with Foo Fighters for an epic “Monkeywrench” performance

On April 18, 2018, at a Foo Fighters concert in Austin, Texas, something extraordinary happened that would instantly go down in rock history. Amid the roaring crowd, a fan in full KISS makeup—later revealed to be Yayo Sanchez—held up a sign asking to join the band on stage to perform “Monkey Wrench.” Dave Grohl, never one to back down from a little chaos, called him up without hesitation, curious about the confidence behind the war paint.

Sanchez, a local musician with serious chops, wasn’t just another fan with a dream—he came prepared. Sporting Paul Stanley-style face paint and carrying his own guitar pick, he hopped on stage with swagger. The moment he strapped on a guitar and locked eyes with Grohl, the audience sensed this wasn’t going to be your average guest appearance.

From the very first note of “Monkey Wrench,” Sanchez played like he belonged in the band. His precision and enthusiasm electrified the entire arena. He didn’t just follow along—he tore into the riffs with energy that matched the band’s pace, pulling off one of the most technically demanding solos in Foo Fighters’ catalog like it was second nature.

The chemistry between Sanchez and Grohl was undeniable. During the performance, Grohl even missed a lyric because he was so caught up watching “KISS Guy” go full throttle. The two exchanged grins, and the crowd erupted, sensing the spontaneous magic of the moment. It was one of those rare times when a fan became part of the show—not as a gimmick, but as a peer.

The crowd was stunned and thrilled. Social media exploded with clips of the performance, turning Sanchez into a viral sensation almost overnight. Fans dubbed him “KISS Guy,” and within hours, his name was spreading across rock forums, meme pages, and music blogs. What started as a brave sign in a crowd became a career-defining moment.

Shelton’s “Suspicious Minds” performance comes to mind when thinking about how musicians embrace the past and pull it into the now, but what Sanchez did was different. He wasn’t paying homage from afar—he jumped into the fire and held his own with one of the world’s biggest rock bands. It wasn’t a cover, and it wasn’t fan service—it was a revelation.

The buzz surrounding the performance didn’t stop with the end of the concert. The next morning, Sanchez’s performance was being replayed across platforms and even made the rounds on local news stations. Fans praised his talent, his confidence, and most of all, his ability to stay cool under pressure in front of thousands of people—and Dave freaking Grohl.

For the Foo Fighters, this spontaneous moment was another notch in their already legendary belt of fan interaction. Known for pulling people onstage, they’d never quite had a moment where the guest actually matched them in energy and execution. Sanchez raised the bar for what a guest performance could look like.

Sanchez, already active in Austin’s local music scene, suddenly found himself in the global spotlight. Interviews followed, as did invitations to perform and collaborate. It became clear that his viral moment wasn’t a fluke—it was the spark of a well-earned spotlight on years of hard work and musical dedication.

The performance also reminded fans and critics of the power of live music. In an age of polished productions and lip-synced award shows, here was a raw, electric, completely unscripted moment that reminded everyone of why rock ’n’ roll matters. It was chaos, talent, timing, and trust—all rolled into one flawless execution.

Grohl’s trust in the fan and the resulting performance said a lot about Foo Fighters’ ethos. They’ve always believed in breaking down the walls between performer and audience, and this moment proved that philosophy still works. It wasn’t about separating rock stars from their fans—it was about making them equals.

Even months after the event, “KISS Guy” remained a talking point at Foo Fighters shows. Fans brought signs referencing the moment, and memes of Grohl laughing mid-performance circulated online. The band had unknowingly created a new legend—one that would sit alongside the best of their concert memories.

Sanchez took the opportunity seriously. Rather than fading into the background after his 15 minutes, he continued to play gigs and grow his following. He didn’t ride the wave—he built a new one from it, proving that the line between fan and artist can be a springboard if you’re ready when it’s your time.

The moment also showed just how much audiences crave authenticity. In a world of filtered content, Sanchez’s moment was raw, real, and unforgettable. It was the kind of performance that can’t be choreographed or rehearsed—it has to be lived.

In the end, Yayo Sanchez didn’t just play “Monkey Wrench.” He rewrote what a fan collaboration could look like. With one epic solo, a full face of KISS makeup, and a whole lot of guts, he stepped into rock history and left a mark that fans—and the Foo Fighters themselves—will never forget.