Californication

Alors, on se retrouve encore... Les Red Hot. Après la baffe bien sentie, gorgée de sueur et de sperme, de "Blood Sugar Sex Magik", j'avoue que la perspective de replonger dans leur discographie ne m'emballait qu'à moitié. L'histoire est connue : après ce sommet, le génial John Frusciante, dégoûté par le succès et bouffé par ses démons, s'était tiré pour aller tutoyer les anges et les seringues. Il fut remplacé par Dave Navarro, transfuge de Jane's Addiction, pour un album, "One Hot Minute", que tout le monde, moi le premier, s'est empressé d'oublier. Un disque bancal, un peu trop metal, un peu trop sombre, qui sonnait comme un mariage forcé entre deux univers qui n'avaient rien à se dire. Un échec.

Et puis, le miracle ou ce qui y ressemble. Fin des années 90, Frusciante, revenu d'entre les morts, réintègre le groupe. La hype est immédiate car le fils prodigue est de retour, propre, sevré, prêt à en découdre. Le monde de la musique retient son souffle : les Red Hot allaient-ils nous refaire le coup ? Allaient-ils, une fois de plus, définir le son d'une époque ?

"Californication" débarque en 1999 et la réponse est un "oui" massif, incontestable, et assourdissant. L'album se vend par porte-conteneurs entiers. Les singles squattent les ondes comme une armée d'occupation. Qui n'a pas entendu "Scar Tissue", "Otherside" ou le morceau-titre en boucle pendant des mois a probablement passé la fin du millénaire dans un bunker.

Et c'est là que le bât blesse, mes amis. Car soyons francs, une fois passées ces trois locomotives radiophoniques, que reste-t-il de "Californication" ? Pour le vieux con né en 1970 que je suis, qui a passé les années 90 à défendre des musiques à guitares autrement plus rêches et aventureuses, la réponse est simple : pas grand-chose, un désert, un océan de platitude sonore.

C'est simple, cet album est l'incarnation même de ce que je détestais dans le son rock FM de cette décennie. C'est le triomphe de la "Loudness War", cette course à l'armement sonore où tout est compressé à en crever, où chaque instrument hurle plus fort que son voisin, où la dynamique est un concept aussi étranger que la subtilité. Tout est au même niveau, tout le temps. La batterie claque comme des pétards, la basse de Flea, autrefois si inventive et bondissante, semble ici curieusement bridée, et la voix de Kiedis est mixée tellement en avant qu'on a l'impression qu'il nous postillonne dans les tympans. Ça gueule, mais ça ne respire pas. C'est un son terriblement, effroyablement daté, un son qui sent la fin de siècle, le son des chaînes de radio formatées et des festivals sponsorisés par des marques de bière.

Et le funk dans tout ça ? Le fameux "pseudo funk" que je mentionnais déjà pour leur précédent effort. Ici, il a quasiment disparu, ou plutôt, il a été pasteurisé, lissé, aseptisé. Fini le groove poisseux et sexuel de BSSM. On est passé à un rock californien propret, mélodique certes, mais sans âme, sans danger. On est dans la ballade mid-tempo, dans le couplet-refrain calibré pour faire chanter les stades. C'est du rock de centre commercial, du funk pour ceux qui n'aiment pas transpirer.

Alors, pourquoi une note de 2 sur 5 et pas un zéro pointé ? Pourquoi est-ce que, malgré tout, je trouve cet album "au-delà de mes attentes" ?

Pour une seule et unique raison : John Frusciante.

Putain, ce mec. Il revient de l'enfer, il a failli y laisser sa peau, ses bras sont des champs de ruines, et il branche sa Stratocaster pour livrer des mélodies d'une beauté et d'une évidence confondantes. Il est LA colonne vertébrale de ce disque. Chaque intervention de sa guitare est une bouffée d'air frais dans ce mur du son étouffant. Ses arpèges cristallins sur "Scar Tissue", son solo minimaliste et déchirant sur "Otherside", ses cocottes discrètes qui tentent de ranimer la flamme funk... C'est lui, et lui seul, qui sauve l'album du naufrage total. Il apporte une âme, une fragilité, une musicalité qui manquent cruellement au reste. Il est le peintre délicat au milieu d'une équipe de déménageurs.

Les textes de Kiedis, eux, ont un peu mûri. Moins de bites, moins de chaussettes, un peu plus d'introspection sur la célébrité, la Californie et ses faux-semblants. C'est louable, mais ça ne casse pas trois pattes à un canard non plus. On sent le type qui a lu deux-trois bouquins mais qui reste fondamentalement un surfeur un peu trop conscient de ses abdominaux.

Au final, "Californication" est un disque paradoxal. C'est à la fois le symbole d'un come-back commercial ahurissant et la preuve d'une certaine standardisation artistique. Un colosse aux pieds d'argile sonore, porté à bout de bras par le talent miraculeux d'un seul homme. Les singles sont efficaces, indéniablement. Le reste ? Un remplissage compétent mais sans génie, prisonnier de sa production boursouflée.

Je lui accorde un 2/5, ce qui, croyez-moi, est presque un compliment. C'est la note de la rédemption pour Frusciante, et la reconnaissance polie pour trois tubes qui ont marqué leur époque. Pour le reste, comme le dit si bien le titre, c'est de la fornication californienne : beaucoup de bruit, beaucoup de soleil, mais au fond, pas grand-chose de vraiment sincère à se mettre sous la dent. C'est mieux que le souvenir que j'en avais, ce qui prouve surtout que je m'attendais au pire. Et le pire, chez les Red Hot, est encore à venir... J'en frémis d'avance.

I had only heard the singles before this. But I found the other songs pretty enjoyable also.

I think of RHCP as a sort of "crowd pleaser" band for people born in the 80s and 90s. Put them on at a party and most people won't complain, but most likely they'll just fade into the background. That's at least true for their greatest hits, but doesn't really apply to this album. The hits on here are indeed great, but the rest of the songs are mostly terrible. Stupid lyrics, recorded way too loud, and too long as well. It's a shame really, because Flea and Frusciante have huge talent that are kind of wasted. Scar Tissue, Otherside, and Road Trippin are great songs though.

Trimming like 4 songs off this would have resulted in a four-star rating. Some really great tracks up front, good production, variety, and instrumentation. Does not sound dated at all.

Honestly the only thing that brings this down at times is the vocals,not to say that i dont like them cause i do.and god the lyrics,i like dirt i like dirt i like dirt

8.5

Full of hits, but as a whole it's pretty mid quality-wise. Love Road Trippin', though, and it's been a staple of my road trip playlists for a long time now.

Worse than the Red Hot Chili Peppers goofing off aimlessly and sexually is RHCP not goofing off: tame, sincere, and melodic. Kiedis still can't rap but it turns out he can't sing or write pop songs either - neither the heartfelt variety nor the kind that deals ironically w/ the cultural zeitgeist. The crew merely wanted to have fun before, which they never could do particularly well, but now they're intent on being for real and in touch w/ their feelings, which is foul, especially on the title track w/ the dumb '-tion' rhymes. My least favorite: 'Born and raised by those who / Praise control of population / Well, everybody's been there / And I don't mean on vacation.' When the dust settles, RHCP will be remembered as e'en more than wasted talent.

Feeling slightly attacked by the top comment for this album lmao. I did actually listen to this in my VW Golf while drinking a caramel machiatto... but I was not wearing lycra and I didn't have bikes on a roof rack

I do agree it was catchy in parts, but on the whole this was the equivalent to a plate of unseasoned chicken and rice

Also the singer gives me major creeps and I've never liked them. Wanted to give this album a chance but the lyrics about putting fingers in and monthly blood was the final straw

2 ⭐️

I just can't do RHCP anymore, sure it's a good album, not for me

Better than Coldplay

I’m a RHCP fan, so I’m biased!

This album is sort of an interesting guilty pleasure for me, which isn't to say I think it's bad or anything, there's just a lot here that could annoy me, and some of it does, but I manage to enjoy this album nonetheless. Honestly, a lot of my complaints center on Anthony Kiedis, which is an extremely common opinion in music spaces. Although, I will say I can't imagine anyone else singing for The Peppers. I actually kind of like his singing, it's a touch melodramatic, but it *is* compelling, and I do like a lot of the melodies here. Although I do *not* love his kind of rap delivery that he gets into, it just sounds goofy as hell. Also, he has a lot of terrible lyrics across this album. There are a few good lines, but wow, when he gets it wrong, he gets it *wrong*. He has all sorts of goofy little -isms in his writing that bug me, but I think the worst example across this album is
"Do you smell like a girl when you smile" off of Porcelain, which is otherwise such a tender, sweet song, and this just feels creepy, whether it was supposed to or not. It is also worth noting that even though I am sort of reluctantly willing to put up with Kiedis here, I still do think there's kind of a talent gap between him and the rest of the band. Chad Smith is an incredibly solid drummer here. Flea's slap-bass is iconic and super animated, he is a big reason this album is a space that makes sense for Kiedis, it just kind of works. And, last but not least, the guitarist here is John Frusciante, and I honestly think he's kind of the secret weapon here. He left The Chili Peppers after Blood Sugar Sex Magik, and became increasingly lost to a truly frightening heroin addiction. This was the first album he recorded after getting clean, and he basically had to teach himself how to play guitar again (Note: He also recorded a couple of fascinating solo albums before getting clean, they were lo-fi, intense, and *extremely* sad: I bring them up just because I happen to enjoy them for what they are and I feel that they are chronically overlooked, but explore at your own risk). The result is minimalistic, expressive, almost stylized, and often very sad-sounding playing. He is the sole counter balance to Kiedis' "Hip Bippity Bop California" flows and Flea's kinetic slapping. Without someone like him, I honestly think this would be like drinking a cup of simple syrup, but he adds so much emotional depth and complexity to the themes here through his playing that the album slots together *just right*. The songs here also just work, this was way more consistent than I remember. The first half is pretty much a laundry list of hits. Around The World, Parallel Universe, Scar Tissue, Otherside, and the mighty Californication kind of feel like they should sound overdone and cliched, but when I here these songs, I just like them. They're honestly sort of undeniable. Then the deep cuts in the second half bring everything together. The great songwriting and emotional range on songs like Easily, Porcelain, Emit Rennus, This Velvet Glove, Savior, and Road trippin' just work for me. Even if I'd like to think I'm too cool for The Chili Peppers, the fact of the matter is that this album just rocks. And while I have complaints, I *am* having a great time, so I won't complain.

another album that i've listend to a milion times. so many great songs on it

2.87

Jedinica iz principa. // Bila bi četvorka jer ovo nije jedan od njihovih najboljih albuma i ima baš baš dosta fillera.

I thought I liked the RHCP but it seems I was wrong. The whole album sounded like it was the same stuff regurgitated. The same sound. The same lyrics. Repetitive 'California' everywhere. I think it may improve giving it another listen with headphones but I just can't feel the urge to even be bothered. It's not you it's me. I'm not angry just disappointed. We move on. 2

Edit: So the weather has got a bit cooler and I'm not so tetchy. I did listen again and it's growing on me. But not that quickly. Now a 3

Yellow Chilled Bell Peppers

This album is a classic, and even though I don't like RHCP that much, I appreciate this record, and it can be fun to listen to at times.

Red Hot Chili Peppers has become an artist that I used to look at with hope and intrigue, mostly because my dad liked them, and I liked the songs I did know by them. Even when discussing specifically this album, Scar Tissue was a big hit for me in my formative years, although I can't really tell you why. Basically, what I'm saying is that I used to look at people who wore RHCP shirts and wouldn't very lightly cringe at the sight. I don't really, now, either, but maybe I will after hearing this album. The hits are most definitely still strong, and I can at least see why Scar Tissue appealed to my younger self's music taste, but any deep cut on this album is pure filler. I tried latching on to any instrumentation present on the album in my hour with it, but often my brain just went, "These drums are alright... doesn't that guy kind of look like Will Ferrell? That's so silly..." then I'd tune out anything else the song did for its often bloated runtime. It isn't technically bad, but despite Anthony Kiedis' popping vocal style, the whole thing just felt very sleepy, and ironically only woke me up a bit at the very end when they took things in a softer, slower direction. Perhaps a shorter album wouldn't of suffered from this fluff issue, but considering it is an album of the 90s, alas, it must. Just something I don't consider essential listening, and even makes me consider if RHCP was a singles band this whole time.

Super Album mit genialen Songs. „Californication“, „Otherside” und vieles mehr. Sauberer Rock !