Me and My Friends #2 - live in Sydney
Hey gang,
I'm writing this next entry a little earlier than I intended, but I guess if there's any reason for me breaking my once-a-month-rule it would be because I was in the same room as Anthony, Flea, Josh and Chad twice this week. Oh, and Blackbyrd McKnight too.
It's very strange, I spend so much of my day to day life thinking about these guys, and then there I was, in the stands, staring right at them. Hard to get over the weirdness of that sometimes.
I saw the Chili Peppers on Tuesday and Wednesday night and I had a really wonderful time. It was my fourth and fifth time seeing them. (Here were times 1, 2 and 3 - number 2 was my 16th birthday!)
Originally I was going to go with some friends, but the ticket purchasing system was so messed up that, long story short, I went alone both nights, sitting in pretty terrible, far away seats. It didn't really matter. I'm not one for dancing, or singing along. I'm happy to just sit there and really watch the show, as if it was a movie.
While I was doing so, I noticed a few things:
1) They are god damned telepathic.
Anthony needs regular breaks to catch his breath when they perform. That's completely understandable; have you ever tried to sing Can't Stop while jumping around as much as he does? No wonder he forgets lyrics! I knew that most of the little jams between songs were purely so Anthony could take a break, but I didn't realise how much they arrive from pretty much nowhere, and with seemingly no prior agreement. It's all done on the slightest glance or feel. I'd be curious to see how much music is created because it felt right in the moment, and how much is done purely to kill time, but it's a testament to how well rehearsed they are and how amazing their musical connection is that you can't really tell the difference.
2) Flea completely runs the show.
Flea is inhuman. Not only does he work his fingers raw every night, but he's the one doing all the speeches, crowd interaction, even just the odd scream into the mic to break the silences. As I watched, he ran to the wings at the side of the stage at least five or six times and played for a specific set of the audience, and each time it made the crowd go wild. What chatty qualities Anthony lacks as a front man (probably because he needs to focus on not losing his voice), Flea makes up for entirely. It's impossible not to feel the love and devotion. He keeps a very tight ship and they'd be lost without him.
3) It was the perfect length.
Maybe this is just me, but the length of the set was utterly perfect. I appreciate that some artists put on a 3-hour show, with 35 different songs, and a costume change. But even on the best nights my mind starts wandering, and all I can think about is having to get home after midnight on a weeknight. I saw Paul McCartney a few months back, and he put on an incredible show, but it was an incredible show that I left early. I was witnessing a Beatle, and I left early.
The sets were close to perfect each night. Not too short, not too long. A great amount of variety, too; I totally didn't expect to hear Hey, Strip My Mind, or Don't Forget Me. And just as I was thinking about checking the time, Give It Away rolled around, and I was sent home in a sea of bliss.
4) More musicians? Maybe?
As much as I appreciate their current setup, I think it would be a nice idea to implement more permanent supplementary members into the mix each night, purely to strengthen the sound. Of course, we already have Nate Wolcott and Chris Warren, and they do wonderfully, but could even more be done while they were at it? Samuel Banuelos does a great job playing that second bass on Go Robot, but do they really need to fly him around the world so he can play on one song a night? Why not introduce another member who can do all that and more?
I'm in two minds about this, because I'd hate to completely neuter the band, a less is more type thing, but there have been times in the past when more people on stage has worked really well: Keith Barry did wonderfully on Yertle The Turtle; that horn part was always missing from later versions of the song. The One Hot Minute tour had full time backup singers, and they stuck out occasionally, but they'd fit a lot better today.
There's also the career-making role that Josh Klinghoffer played when he was a touring member back in 2007. In more recent years we've seen some songs only appear in sets because Zack Irons has been onstage to add a guitar part to it.
That last point is important: the Chili Peppers' music is often so layered that the guitarist couldn't possibly play all the parts required of him. I'm curious what a permanent second guitarist (much like Josh's role in 2007) and maybe some backing vocalists could do to help the band's sound, even on simple staples like Otherside. Would it beefen it up, or cheapen the sound? I'm not sure. What do you think?
Watching Josh leap around and then have to sing a complex chorus line, all I could think was that maybe there should be a fix for that. They wouldn't be full members of the band, just a stage presence, and maybe it wouldn't be for every tour - only a one off run of shows. I'm thinking something similar to what Nine Inch Nails did in 2013, when a set of back-up singers joined the rest of the band on stage. (This would also give Anthony's voice a break!) Plus, some deeper cuts could be played with all those extra musicians handy.
Then again, just the four of them has worked very well for over twenty years. No need to fix what isn't broken. I'm just spitballing here.
I did have some small complaints: very often I couldn't hear Josh's guitar at all, and it only became clear in the mix once he applied a pedal of some sort. It constantly sat in that frustratingly quiet zone, like they just needed to turn the damn thing up. It became especially concerning during songs that Chris Warren played on; his keyboard part was crystal clear, and Josh was nowhere to be heard. Maybe it was just my seats, but I know this has been a frequent comment.
Another complaint was more personal, and maybe not even a complaint. The first night, I was sandwiched in between an extremely drunk guy who wouldn't stop turning to the crowd around him, searching - pleading - for another face to be screaming lyrics back at him. It was as if he could only externalize his experience; be assured that what he was seeing was happening to other people, be assured that his behaviour was normal. Which it wasn't. Eventually he just stood up and left, halfway through the show, too drunk to work his phone, stumbling down the aisle.
On the other side was a very friendly but also fairly drunk woman who seemed to take pity on me. I just wanted to sit there and watch the show, but I must have seemed friendless, or sad, or like I wasn't enjoying myself (I was!)
She kept talking to me (and only me - she was with someone, but she didn't say a word to him!) as if she was babysitting me, asking questions, pointing out things about the venue, asking how old Anthony was ("56, I think?" I said, like I had to guess, like I didn't know for sure that he was born on November 1, 1962).
I almost wanted to tell her that I wasn't bored or sad, that I actually ran a website about the band, and had been a fan of them for more than half my life, that I knew a strange amount about them, that I'm... you know, kind of an expert. That it was okay to just leave me alone.
There's nothing wrong with casual fans - I'm a casual fan of a thousand things. There were people like me, and there were sixteen year olds, crying to Snow. And there were people there those nights who had followed the band across the world.
There are all types. I think, in the course of writing this, I've realised that it simply felt weird to sit in a sea of Chili Peppers, when most of my life is spent thinking about them and experiencing them internally. It felt weird to finally speak about them out loud.
Maybe that's it. Maybe it's just me.
What do you think? Should the band change things up, or stay the same? When was the last time you saw them? What did you think? It's okay to be critical! To love something is to question it.
Anyway - thanks for sticking with me for another overly long letter. Next month's one will be about the band in 1998 - it should be interesting, and not about me at all!
See you then.