Skip to main content

An Open Love Letter to the Red Hot Chili Peppers

I like to think I'm an objective kind of guy. The sort of person who's willing to change his mind, when presented with sufficient evidence. The kind of person who doesn't have pre-conceived notions about anything. But, when I cast my objectiveness over my own self, there are some things that, no matter how I try, I just can't help but be overflowing with one-eyed enthusiasm for. Things that I just absolutely love no matter what.

For example, I love every product Nintendo releases. I can't explain why, I just do. But even more than I adore video games about fat Italian plumbers, the one thing that I hold more precious, and more sacred above all my pre-conceived notions, are the Red Hot Chili Peppers.




You know how angsty eyeliner-wearing teenagers get all upset when their underground band makes it to number one on the charts? Well, that's because they feel that the whole world is invading their band. (It's not by any means their band, but I guess teenagers have lots of dumb ideas beyond wearing eyeliner.) That's what I'm like with the Red Hot Chili Peppers.
They're my band.

The reason that I continue to entertain such a stupid and self indulgent notion is because they make such transcendently beautiful music that rings in my heart and has guided me through my life like a carefully scripted soundtrack. They've grown with me, consoled me and been an ever-present force for good in my life. When I was a teenager doing lots of dumb things, it was Blood Sugar Sex Magik that was playing in the background. When I was preparing to be married, it was with One Hot Minute blaring from the PA. The day that John rejoined the band, I heard it on the JJJ news and leapt out of bed, cheering, casting my one year old daughter into a confusing sea of bedclothes...

I was lucky enough, through a series of friends, to see the guys play in Melbourne on their By The Way tour, from the side of the stage - (As I recall it was me and my brothers, Flea's Nana, and Chopper.) The amazing force and devotion that these guys bring to their music is a kind of super-power. Up close, it's like nothing you can imagine.



I've only spent a few days with Stadium Arcadium, the first album in four years. And strangely enough, I already adore it.

John Frusicante plays guitar with such intensity and intimacy, that it can bring tears to your eyes. I've never heard him sound this good, ever. Flea's musical prowess and awesome ability to surprise with song structure will inspire and delight. Anthony's lyrics can be a little goofy at times, but that just makes it less perfect and more real- this album finds his talents as a vocalist and a wordsmith both richer than ever. And Chad's ability to establish a kind of musical playground around any tune with powerful drums and percussion just sews the whole thing up.

I'm loathe to name any highlights, because I know I'll grow to appreciate every tune in time, but the vocal harmonies in charlie, the trumpet solo in hump de bump and the inspired Sabbath-Style readymade are ringing loud in my head at the moment.

So, to the band - thank you so much for being such a touchstone musical part of my life. I can't wait to live with your new record for the next few years.

And to those who don't share my one-eyed fanboy perspective, well, you're just clearly wrong.

Bonus Link:
Flea's LA Lakers Blog.
Bonus Bonus Link: (for Simon)
Flea being sad because someone said that Nick Cave didn't like his band.

EDIT: The awesome photos in this post were shot by my brother, at the RHCP Melbourne gig, 2004. He had to do some fast talking to get into the press gallery without a press pass, but that's always been one of Grae's strong points. Go visit his blog.

Comments

  1. Anonymous4:14 pm

    All Photos © Graeme Taylor 2004

    ReplyDelete
  2. Hehe, I certainly appreciate your enthusiasm. I'm not a RHCP fan, but I feel the same way about Steve Vai - the damn best guitarist there is and ever was (sorry, about John Frusicante :)

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Going West vs Going to Sleep

Phew! That was one busy adventure to the other side of this wide brown land (It is wide, and brown, but mainly wide) TUF 2005 in Perth was the launching ground for our new product, ice. Stilly and I were presenting the keynote, which was based around showing off ice, and talking about collaboration and other reasons why a bunch of customers might want to buy it. In a stroke of genius\insanity, we decided to let the audience pick the demonstration platform based on random outcomes - we built a giant cardboard die with various operating systems and platforms written on each side - then we'd let a volunteer from the audience roll the dice(die?) to determine which platform we should do our demo on. ice (the italics belong to the marketing department) works on any platform, so we were pretty confident that we would be okay. But, what I hadn't counted on (those italics are mine), was my crummy laptop (which was acting as the server) deciding that it would be a good idea to hibernat...

Still Crazy

When I started with TOWER Software four years ago, I was keen to get on with the job. You know, new project manager guy and all, trying to figure out what was what, and who was who. As part of this breaking-in process, I went around and asked each developer what they were working on, and how long they estimated that their current project would take. I'll admit that I had a secret agenda - it's important to find out who are the overly optimistic guys, and who are the more seasoned realists, because you're supposed to adjust your project schedules accordingly.. Anyway, I collected all this data and feed it into a secret Gantt chart I had somewhere. Most of the team were working on features that were being shipped in the next few months, and I got the broad range of overly positive responses, which is pretty common. I know I'm a terribly optimistic estimator. (Incidentally, if you're like me, my advice is to always multiply your estimate by the value of pi in order to ...

The height of Retro cool?

Like Rory , I grew up with a lame arse PC. I too was bitterly jealous of those amiga owners. With their fancy fandanlged-hand-holding-a-floppy-disk bios, and versions of Marble Madness that looked just like the arcade, they had no idea how lucky they were. But, I'm not so sure that the grey box which evaporated my childhood, (while I'm very fond of it) was actually the height of eighties cool. In fact, the computer I owned was far, far worse than the virtual boy of PCs - something that made those poor betamax owners laugh themselves into hysterical coniptions as to what a loser of a product this thing actually was, and they paid 450 dollars for a flashing digital clock. My dad bought us a genuine, IBM PC-JX. The IBM PC-Jr is widely regarded as one of IBM's dumbest decisions. What very few know, is that after the IBM PC-Jr flopped dismally in the US, IBM was left with a bunch of leftover hardware that nobody wanted. I can hear the meetings now: shimmery dissolve in "Jo...