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Red Hot Chili Peppers: The Dark Side of California's Glamor Lifestyle
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WarnerMusic
Album of the week:
Red Hot Chili Peppers - "Return of the Dream Canteen"
Those again?
The Red Hot Chili Peppers are perhaps the longest running gag in rock history.
Founded in Los Angeles in 1983 and miraculously still around, they are the funk, not blues-inspired, Generation X Rolling Stones, the »dystopian Beach Boys«, as the »Washington Post« once put it.
Around the turn of the millennium, when their album »Californication« was released, they could have been called »the best band in the world« without being laughed at.
It's still a bit like that today.
The »Chili Peppers«, as they are affectionately known, have become pop mascots.
They survived the #Metoo movement (so far) and now, nearing retirement age, they still represent the dark side of California's glamor lifestyle, the death wish, the excesses, the testosterone and the vulgarity of the rock 'n' past 'roll era.
Other bands of this stature would perhaps limit themselves to celebrating their own legend and greatest hits on extensive tours without even bothering to release new music.
The Red Hot Chili Peppers, however, pull off the feat of releasing two double albums in the midst of a global stadium tour.
"Unlimited Love" (17 songs) released in April is now followed by "Return of the Dream Canteen" with 17 more songs.
All tracks are from the same apparently prolific session, again overseen by rock 'n' roller guru Rick Rubin.
However, the surfer shorts were no longer as crisp and tight as they should be on »Unlimited Love«;
The licks, riffs and solos by guitarist John Frusciante, who recently returned to the band, which were explosively mixed into the foreground, often provided fascination and tension.
And now the whole thing again after only six months of recovery?
And there's bad news for fans of the rock band Red Hot Chili Peppers: Frusciante's fury on the guitar isn't that much of a focus in »Dream Canteen«.
Which in turn is good news for early fans of the band, because the new album is largely a funk album, on which bassist Flea in particular was allowed to let off steam.
It's a very domesticated funk album though.
In the end, the question was raised as to how one should actually imagine a late work by this always jittery group of young professionals.
Maybe like this.
At first, singer Anthony Kiedis acts as if he were the virile sex animal of the past, who once only stood on stage with a sock pulled over his penis.
"Well, I'm an animal/ Something like a cannibal/ I'm very flammable/ And partially programmable," the 59-year-old rhymes in "Tippa My Tongue," but at the same time acknowledges that the excesses are a thing of the past : »Centuries of overuse/ Now I wear it nice and loose«.
What is meant here is probably the small blotting paper with LSD, which he puts on the tip of his tongue for the next microdosing trip to the dream canteen.
Towards the end, in a song that couldn't be more aptly titled for the prototypical LA band ("La La La La La La La La"), remorseful of old sins, he dreams of a romantic date on the beach with fast food and of his loved ones, who should ideally stay with him forever: "I wanna spin my wheels with you/ Win and lose some beers with you/ Tell me how it feels for you/ To order Happy Meals for two," croonts Superdude Kiedis in probably the first power ballad by the Chili Peppers.
Cute!
Finally, in the blues »Carry Me Home«, he admits his loneliness and is universally forgiving with all those who think differently in the face of the environmental apocalypse: »You've got your way and I guess I have mine/ Both gonna die at the very same time.« Surfing philosophy doesn't get any deeper than that in this lifetime.
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Red Hot Chili Peppers
Return of the Dream Canteen
Label: Warner Bros. Records
Label: Warner Bros. Records
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In between there are - unfortunately unavoidable - rock slob atrocities like "Bag of Grins", "Copperbelly" or the unfortunately too crude fake news condemnation "Fake as Fuck", which begins musically as a James Brown bromance with funky horns and then ends in a chunky Hendrix homage: The wind cries mercy… or something.
There is of course also room for entertaining nonsense and finger exercises such as »My Cigarette« (the saxophone!) or »The Drummer« (the eighties!).
And for a bass solo (!) at the end of »Roulette« too.
All the nicer are the pop excursions, in which the band's talent for sucking a few hooks out of the big band bong for eternity is comfortingly evident: "Afterlife" swings easily in the hips until Frusciante at the end of the songs is allowed to play a long, disciplining solo.
The touching Eddie Van Halen nod "Eddie" is also a playground for the guitarist to romp around on.
But »Handful« is the secret hit of the album, a hint of reggae with mariachi horns, the vocal phrasing of which is reminiscent of Bob Dylan's unctuous seventies epic »One More Cup of Coffee«.
Here, too, Kiedis modestly longs for a loving hug in old age (or simply for the next blunt role): »Someone roll me right over/ Handful of love when It's time to get older«.
Yes yes, that's fine, come cuddle!
(7.7)
Listened briefly:
Dillon - »6abotage«
Sometimes things have to fall apart before they can be put back together again.
Perhaps the Berlin-based musician Dominique Dillon de Byington had reached a creative impasse with her increasingly solid chamber pop.
As Dillon, she had become a celebrated indie scene figure in her late twenties, but now what?
Five years after her last release, the now 34-year-old returns with her sad but defiant album »6abotage«.
It opens up new dimensions to their music and may even contain their first pop hit.
Responsible for their now resolutely urban and electronic sound is above all the hip-hop producer Alexis Troy, who previously provided hard rappers like Kollegah with beats, but also the soft trap R&
B of the Bietigheim pop star Rin equipped.
Working with Troy was an awakening experience for Dillon: "I found so much comfort in his work that I could completely let go," she said in a recent interview.
The Brazilian's music is still carried by the singing voice, with which she explores the deepest grief and injuries.
In her lyrics, Dillon works through an apparently toxic relationship that almost broke her.
»<3core« is what she calls it in the song operetta of the same name: hardcore love.
with which she plumbs deepest sorrow and hurt.
In her lyrics, Dillon works through an apparently toxic relationship that almost broke her.
»<3core« is what she calls it in the song operetta of the same name: hardcore love.
with which she plumbs deepest sorrow and hurt.
In her lyrics, Dillon works through an apparently toxic relationship that almost broke her.
»<3core« is what she calls it in the song operetta of the same name: hardcore love.
(7.8)
Bill Callahan - "Reality"
When, of all people, what is probably the biggest bad-mood smurf in the Americana scene claims in a statement that he wants to tear people out of the pandemic lethargy with encouraging music, the irony alarm should go off.
On the one hand, Callahan, inspired by private family happiness, had already shown a forgiving side on his last two albums, so here too it gets nice and sentimental when he looks at his children's crossed hands in solidarity or ponders the spirit of his deceased mother.
On the other hand, his basically sour nature quickly shows through again, despite a lot of musical acoustic sweetness and colorful little birds on the cover.
The sarcasm is back in the second song of his 19th album, one of the best since 2011's »Apocalypse«:
"I feel something coming on," he sings, as always in a musing baritone, "a disease or a song."
»Everyway« then tells the story of shipwrecked sailors who warm their clammy hands in the innards of a horse's carcass - »at least we're all in this horse together«, is the dry punchline.
Callahan is seen by many as Leonard Cohen's heir connected more to the forces of nature than to God, an impertinence that he laconically comments on at the beginning of the hillbilly blues »Bowevil« when he mumbles a deep »Everybody knows« into the ether.
Ha!
In the further course of the album, the band gets serious about the general wake-up call with thunder drums and fog horns and rampant krautrock psychedelic.
It doesn't get any happier in Callahan Country.
»Everyway« then tells the story of shipwrecked sailors who warm their clammy hands in the innards of a horse's carcass - »at least we're all in this horse together«, is the dry punchline.
Callahan is seen by many as Leonard Cohen's heir connected more to the forces of nature than to God, an impertinence that he laconically comments on at the beginning of the hillbilly blues »Bowevil« when he mumbles a deep »Everybody knows« into the ether.
Ha!
In the further course of the album, the band gets serious about the general wake-up call with thunder drums and fog horns and rampant krautrock psychedelic.
It doesn't get any happier in Callahan Country.
»Everyway« then tells the story of shipwrecked sailors who warm their clammy hands in the innards of a horse's carcass - »at least we're all in this horse together«, is the dry punchline.
Callahan is seen by many as Leonard Cohen's heir connected more to the forces of nature than to God, an impertinence that he laconically comments on at the beginning of the hillbilly blues »Bowevil« when he mumbles a deep »Everybody knows« into the ether.
Ha!
In the further course of the album, the band gets serious about the general wake-up call with thunder drums and fog horns and rampant krautrock psychedelic.
It doesn't get any happier in Callahan Country.
Callahan is seen by many as Leonard Cohen's heir connected more to the forces of nature than to God, an impertinence that he laconically comments on at the beginning of the hillbilly blues »Bowevil« when he mumbles a deep »Everybody knows« into the ether.
Ha!
In the further course of the album, the band gets serious about the general wake-up call with thunder drums and fog horns and rampant krautrock psychedelic.
It doesn't get any happier in Callahan Country.
Callahan is seen by many as Leonard Cohen's heir connected more to the forces of nature than to God, an impertinence that he laconically comments on at the beginning of the hillbilly blues »Bowevil« when he mumbles a deep »Everybody knows« into the ether.
Ha!
In the further course of the album, the band gets serious about the general wake-up call with thunder drums and fog horns and rampant krautrock psychedelic.
It doesn't get any happier in Callahan Country.
(8.0)
Daphni - "Cherry"
Alright, now for the album that really has the potential to shake a Covid hangover short and hard (before heading into what's likely to be another crippling winter): Daphni is the experimental project of Canadian musician, DJ and producer Dan Snaith , who releases beautiful, elaborate electronic pop full-time under the name Caribou, which is very popular.
Daphni is his playground for casually thrown in, sometimes seemingly unfinished sketches, with which he has already filled several extremely entertaining albums.
»Cherry« is the icing on the caribou cake, so to speak.
The tracks are short, effective sugar shocks, mostly built around a loop or sample without much frills - or a ping-pong sequencer sound,
thrown into a reliably rattling house rhythm (and wreaking havoc there).
Whether it's Eastern European folklore ("Always There"), disco finds ("Take Two"), Moog gimmicks ("Clavicle") or minimal techno - the tempo of the tracks is - pardon me - breathtaking and challenges the listener, the maniacally fidgeting for the full 48 minutes.
Also works in the living room club, of course.
(7.5)
Tove Lo - »Dirt Femme«
The woman who was still called »the saddest girl in Sweden« in the middle of the last decade has to be pictured as a happy person today: »Dirt Femme« is the sixth album by 34-year-old pop singer Ebba Tove Elsa Nilsson, known as Tove Lo occurs - and it is her first that no longer appears at an industry giant.
The empowerment activities of the demonstratively non-conformist artist probably gradually went too far for the major label.
Because Tove Lo not only wrote hits for Ellie Goulding or Kylie Minogue, but often stands out in her own performance by constantly showing her breasts, scandalous up to the YouTube ban in 2016 with her short film »Fairy Dust«, in which she masturbates.
"I want women to be able to be naked in the same way men can be - funny naked or naked just to be naked",
she said at the time.
So now she has not only freed her body, but also her music.
"Dirt Femme" is still not an "indie" album, but a sparkling disco sound, trained on Giorgio Moroder - with perhaps a little more edge than comparable colleagues.
For example in Hi-NRG dance numbers like "Pineapple Slice" (with SG Lewis, about oral satisfaction), in the thoroughly self-critical disco groove of "Attention Whore", in the problem zone analysis of "Grapefruit" or in the deep funk of "Kick in the Head," an invitation to kick the song's protagonist, who is grumpy in the morning, out of bed.
After that, however, she promises to go off like popcorn - at least that's what the use of the early electronic classic "Popcorn" in "2 Die 4" suggests: "Look alive and come with me," she sings over the excited beat.
(7.3)