Enter Red Hot Chili Peppers, a band that's stayed popular for the majority of their near 40 year career; while their music isn't the gold standard for many, one can't deny the staying power of the Chili Peppers. With a long list of hits under their belts, it's a little bit incredible to feel the buzz surrounding their twelfth album, at least until you consider the primary selling point of Unlimited Love featuring the return of on again off again guitarist John Frusciante.
Of course, Frusciante famously left the band after the runaway success of Blood Sugar Sex Magik, the fifth Chili Peppers record and the one that transformed them from scrappy, funky punks into world conquering rock stars. Frusciante wouldn't be present for the follow-up, 1995's divisive and commercially underperforming One Hot Minute, but would return just in time for the massively successful Californication in 1999. After touring yet another multi-platinum smash, 2006's Stadium Arcadium, Frusciante left again and, as the years rolled on with relative youngster Josh Klinghoffer nobly attempting to fill the void on two underwhelming albums (2011's I'm With You and 2016's The Getaway), fans started to admit to themselves that it was a good run, but the band they knew and loved would probably never return.
We now know that's not true, though, and Unlimited Love wastes no time in rekindling the unmistakable chemistry that Red Hot Chili Peppers can only seem to achieve with Frusciante in the fold; lead single Black Summer feels like classic RHCP thanks to Frusciante's signature playing in pocket with yet another slinky Flea bass line and, although Anthony Kiedis' pirate inflections sound a little weird, the chorus washes over you like an old friend, those long-missed Frusciante vocal harmonies elevating the song to the stratosphere. It's about as striking a return to form as any fan could have hoped for.
That tried and true formula, the well of nostalgia, is revisited time and time again throughout Unlimited Love, as though the band are careful not to squander the attention that they knew they would get for this record. Chad Smith just turned 60, Flea and Kiedis aren't far behind and even Frusciante is well into his fifties now; barring some pretty extreme circumstances, it stands to reason that this could be the last chance RHCP get to truly make a mainstream splash. To wit, as the album goes on (and on, as Chili Peppers records go), there are precious few surprises. The horns that arrive partway through Aquatic Mouth Dance add a little extra flavour to a by-the-numbers RHCP would-be hit; Bastards of Light lets a pulsating synth line do much of the heavy lifting as it unfolds into a laid back acoustic chorus.
The album's most striking surprises lay in its more muscular moments; The Great Apes builds itself up over its opening verses before boiling over on its chorus, which sees Frusciante's leads punctuating Chad Smith's expert fill-laden rhythms; Frusciante is let off his leash for a scorching solo that hits on a whole other level. Current single These Are the Ways goes further, with its slow-paced melodic verses bursting into a bludgeoning, shapeshifting riff fest, resulting in probably the most thrilling and ambitious single they've released since, say, Warped. Veronica sees a pretty, flange-soaked melody from Frusciante accompanying an earnest delivery from Kiedis that suddenly swerves into a half-time chorus (which sneaks some Beatlesesque, warbly background vocals into its second runthrough, and throws off slight I Want You [She's So Heavy] vibes toward the end); even if the two phases don't exactly flow together, it's an interesting juxtaposition and a unique entry in the band's portfolio.
Then, there's The Heavy Wing, the album's penultimate track, which features a groove that's unmistakable before giving way to a tom-fueled, darkly melodic verse. John Frusciante is given control of the chorus, his vocals and slashing riffs lifting an otherwise good song to otherworldly heights. My only gripe is its awkward transition from that incredible chorus into the second verse, a sloppy edit that completely removes the euphoria of the moment. Otherwise, this song is far, far better than it has any right to be, and would be a true triumph for any band, let alone one that didn't need to go this hard or experimental.
Outside of the aforementioned songs, there is a lot of that previously addressed nostalgia, although I admit that's not quite as much of an issue as I feared it would be going in. The driving, percussive Here After Ever, the atmospheric ballad Not the One, the funky strut of Whatchu Thinkin' and the fleet-footed One Way Traffic (complete with a return to "ay-oh" on its chorus) might be the kind of songs we've heard from this band countless times before, but they're competently executed and don't feel like calculated efforts at recapturing past glories. Hell, even the album's clumsiest song, the word salad of Poster Child, has an earworm-inducing chorus and provides a fun game of "spot the name drop"; while we're on the subject, I tip my proverbial hat to Kiedis for peppering the track list with nods to bands and artists from rock and pop history and helping the album play out like a sort of love letter to music.
That's not to say this album doesn't have its share of issues. While there are more than enough formidable songs here, the ones that don't quite pull their weight are more (or, should I say, less) noticeable. Which leads me into the biggest problem I have with the album, one that's basically as old as time at this point; if you know the Chili Peppers' discography, you can probably guess what I'm about to say next, because these same problem has been here pretty much the entire time, no matter who's producing or playing guitar.
Red Hot Chili Peppers haven't managed to put out an album of normal album length since Mother's Milk in 1989, and they sure as hell don't start now; at 73 minutes, Unlimited Love is their longest effort since Stadium Arcadium and, as is the case with most of their albums, I feel it suffers from its bloat. I'm sure they're very proud of all of these songs (and, as the story goes, they recorded close to fifty and have the bones of another album already in the hopper), but seventeen songs is a lot to ask anyone to sit through at once, especially in an era when half-hour albums have become the rule rather than the exception.
In context of a normal-sized album, close to a half dozen songs failing to stick with me at all would be a damning offense, so I suppose if we're playing percentages Unlimited Love fares better because of its bloated track list. Just the same, the mid-tempo chiller It's Only Natural, quasi title track She's a Lover, the pretty but forgettable White Braids & Pillow Chair, the wah-wah washed slow jam Let 'Em Cry and acoustic album closer Tangelo simply failed to click with me in the context of such a blown-out album. These aren't offensively bad songs, but they don't really contribute in a meaningful way to what could have been an incredible comeback experience that ultimately falls just a bit short due to its insistence on running far too long.
April 1, 2022 • Warner Bros.
Highlights Black Summer • These Are the Ways • The Heavy Wing
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