You Can Be My Wave

Everyone had a Red Hot Chili Peppers phase right? In my teens, I was certainly going through it. Back when I thought slap bass was the coolest thing ever, and didn't fully understand the troubling nature of Anthony Kiedis' relationships with underage girls, I rather enjoyed the band's blend of funk, punk, and energetic alternative rock. While I would have considered myself a fan then, I never really got into their albums as a whole. In my opinion, RHCP albums always contained undeniable bangers and forgettable jams in equal measure. Therefore, I always stuck to the hits, and perhaps a couple stellar deep cuts. The only album of theirs I ever owned was 2006's Stadium Arcadium, not because it bucked the trend, but because it was released when my interest in the band was at its highest. I didn't listen to it much back then, and revisiting it recently reminded me why that was the case.

The frustrating thing is that somewhere in the twenty-eight-track, two-hour double album is a solid LP. The band still impresses when they're in their quirky, funky bag; tracks like Charlie, Hump De Bump, and Tell Me Baby for example. Flea's performances yield a tremendous power, especially with an aggressive tone that really makes his performances pop. His basslines often feature a syncopated bounce or astounding agility; qualities that make his playing so exciting. John Frusciante is an even match with his incredibly sharp guitar work. Whether he's simply going between two notes, or emulating Nile Rodgers' signature, high chord strums, Frusciante performs with an expert precision that is quite mesmerizing and wholly unique. This explains the funk, but the quirk comes in the form of stuttering trumpet leads (Hump De Bump), guitar tones that transition between watery modulation and twinkling hyper cleans (Tell Me Baby), and eccentric ad-libs behind Kiedis' freestyled spoken-word (Charlie).

There's also a couple moments where the band is truly on fire. Torture Me is the first instance of this thanks to an uptempo, dotted groove that Chad Smith fiercely attacks. It's easily the most energetic track coming right out of the gate, flipping the typical soft verse/loud chorus dynamic on its head. Some other aspects of this song that are great include the majestic trumpets coming out of the first chorus, Kiedis' passionate delivery, and the unexpectedly calm bridge that features some softly tremolo-picked guitar that is kind of romantic in nature. Its second disc counterpart has to be Readymade where Flea and Frusciante play a Rage Against the Machine-styled riff in tandem while Smith plays around with the snare positioning. Despite it being relatively low on melodic ideas, the band finds ways to keep elevating the song to new heights via low guitar harmonies, high guitar harmonies, flashy trills, a blazing solo with cascading phrases, and a drum breakdown.

The album's biggest surprises are the more serene, ambient experiments. If is the gentlest track by far as the band smooths over every instrumental element and has Smith sit on the sidelines. The track opens with a softly droning organ before being joined by Flea and Frusciante. Flea's bassline is still fairly active, but it's played in the instrument's upper register. The tone is rolled off resulting in a far less aggressive and rounded sound. Frusciante's contribution utilizes a slide, allowing him to glide through descending and ascending melodic lines. Animal Bar leans slightly more in a rock direction, but the verses are still very celestial. We have this beautiful bass motif that spills like a waterfall, watery supporting vocals to match, and sunburnt guitars that swell in and out. The chorus definitely kicks up the tension with a noticeably amped up vocal performance from Kiedis, crashing percussion strikes from Smith, and Frusciante's typically sharp guitar chords. However, all the tension fades away the moment the band returns to the soothing nature of the verse. This track also rides out with a beautiful weeping guitar solo that is quite emotional, at times fraught.

If the songs don't fall into one of the previous three categories, then it unfortunately falls into the category of snoozefest, which is the case for at least half of the material on Stadium Arcadium. The playing, production and performances are all sound, so listening to these tracks aren't offensive by any means. However, I'm not a fan of the long-winded, stagnant jams that don't have the energy, flair, or adventurous spirit of their best material. Deep down, I've always felt this way, and yet this album remained in my collection for twenty years. Now that I've logged my thoughts in a more concrete fashion, I think it's finally time to part with this one.