SLAM – The Rust EP

Although Slam is hardly an original name for a band, it kind of suits this South Carolina five-piece’s approach.  Combining the twin guitar attack of Paul Glover and Ryan Kellett, the growling voice of Anthony Trapani and a hard hitting rhythm section in Aaron Patterson and Bob Dunaway (bass and drums, respectively), this EP has a professional sound – and fantastic production values – for a self-released recording.

The title cut chugs along like a musical juggernaut under the weight and drive of Patterson’s down-tuned bass.  When combined with the dual guitars, Slam’s fairly unrelenting delivery can be heard in good form.  The vocals are of a standard hardcore metal variety, but Trapani favours a clean and fairly clear delivery, allowing the lyrics to be heard – something which stands very much in Slam’s favour.  While the sound is decent, though, the song itself doesn’t have the huge hook it really requires.  The stab at a chorus is not great especially, but still manages to be okay; in order to properly stand out, it really could’ve done with something extra.  ‘Misery Machine’ is faster and slightly heavier – the rumble and chug of the opener being taken to a new level.   A more memorable chorus also shows Slam in a more accomplished light than before.  The overriding sound highlights influences from early Machine Head (in the heaviness) and Prong (in the shouty vocal delivery) alongside other late eighties/early nineties hardcore metal bands.  While, once again, Slam haven’t done much to make that sound their own, their end performance is more than commendable – particularly Dunaway’s bass drum work and the couple of riffs giving the nod to classic eighties Bay Area thrash.

‘Seasoned’ combines more heavy riffs and shouting vocals, but on this track, Slam really hit their stride.  The fast parts of this number allow Bob Dunaway to show off his skills once again, his double bass drum work recalling lots of classic thrash/hardcore metal from the late 80s.  This is the track which shows Slam at their most well-rounded: the slow parts show are more melodic than previous tracks, while the fast parts show an almost faultless level of tightness on part of the rhythm section.   Slowing things down again, the closing number, ‘Knife’ employs a chugging riff which although powerful, doesn’t build much upon its initial promise.  Vocally, Trepani gets an opportunity to stretch out from his usual hardcore approach, but when slotted in as a countermelody with the slow riff midway, his more melodic “oohs” have the air of an afterthought.

On the basis of this EP, Slam’s sound is about as original as their choice of moniker, but even so, they’re tight enough – and more than heavy enough – to make this style work for them.  With regards to showing their influences so obviously, at least they’ve clearly learnt from some of the best.  ‘The Rust EP’ showcases the work of a good, solid metal band.  If they can throw a little more of their own style into the mix and bring more focus to their song writing, they have the potential to take things to the next level.

January 2011

LINDSEY BUCKINGHAM – Seeds We Sow

Following 1992’s ‘Out of The Cradle’, Lindsey Buckingham continued to write new material, but largely stayed out of the spotlight. In the early 00’s he had almost completed a solo album, provisionally entitled ‘Gift Of Screws’, when destiny called and he rejoined Fleetwood Mac. A few songs scheduled for ‘Gift of Screws’ were reworked with Fleetwood Mac and eventually surfaced on their 2003 release ‘Say You Will’.

After touring for that record, Buckingham resumed his solo career and released the intimate acoustic record ‘Under The Skin’ in 2006, followed by a finished, partially different ‘Gift of Screws’ in 2008. As 2011’s ‘Seeds We Sow’ is Buckingham’s third solo release in five years, it marks his most prolific period in some time. It’s a very home-spun recording, with a lot of programmed mechanical elements, but that’s certainly not to say it sounds hurried or remotely slapdash compared to works on which he spent three times longer.

Despite the drum loops, ‘Gone Too Far’ has a pop purity, which with a little tweak would be worthy of inclusion on a Fleetwood Mac disc, with pleading lead vocals and a plethora of backing voices. Musically, it’s much simpler than some of Buckingham’s works, but it stands up well. The vocals alone would carry most of the number, but a few plays in, the unobtrusive guitar solo stands out as being particularly noteworthy, capturing a very clean and distinctive sound. ‘In Our Time’ is a superb off-kilter pop number which Buckingham very much makes his own. Not just with a plethora of finger plucked moments, but the addition of staccato keyboard strings for emphasis hints at the anger of a couple of his ‘Tusk’ performances. Almost a complete opposite ‘When She Comes Down’ is rich with harmony vocals. The music is relatively simple, but Buckingham is acutely aware that a strong hook and stronger vocal will win out. It’s enough to make you wonder how this would have sounded with the embellishment of Stevie Nicks and Christine McVie… [‘Seeds We Sow’ may be rather mechanical on the whole, but even after a few plays, it’s so obvious that most of these songs are vastly superior to those which filled Mac’s ‘Say You Will’, which was let down in part by Christine McVie’s absence].

‘That’s The Way That Love Goes’ is credited as featuring other musicians (everything else is arranged and recorded by Buckingham alone), but even so, it doesn’t sound much more natural than the other cuts. The drums come with a clipped march, the bass only slightly warmer than on other numbers and the keyboards add little interest overall. As expected with a Lindsey Buckingham recording, however, this track is still very much “The Lindsey Buckingham Show” – and frankly, his contributions are almost beyond criticism. His vocal retains exactly the same presence as it has always had -as if barely any time has passed since those drug-fuelled ‘Tusk’ sessions and days of excess – while the music contains a few slightly more angular moments. ‘One Take’ is the album’s most urgent cut, both musically and lyrically. The bass notes rumble as Buckingham settles for a far less showy guitar style. Clanging rhythm chords provide most of the focus, but the two instrumental breaks are where it’s at; each one brimming with fury – a sharp reminder of the man who played the screaming solo at the end of ‘The Chain’. Combined with Lindsey spitting lyrics like “I have no reputation and I’m not on any list / That’s because I got a publicist who covers up the avarice and where I put my fist”, it’s certainly the closest ‘Seeds We Sow’ comes to presenting anything resembling an angry rocker. Placed alongside some of the more refined numbers – particularly those with a strong bias towards finger-picked guitar – stylistically, this feels a little shoe-horned in. On the other hand, it comes loaded with a chorus that’ll stay with you after three or four plays, so it’s still a really great track.

It’s with the solo number ‘Rock Away Blind’ ‘Seeds We Sow’ unleashes what is unquestionably it’s most amazing piece. Buckingham’s voice has a pop musician’s purity, and as such is extremely admirable, but looking beyond that, his guitar work is just astounding. His voice compliments a furiously plucked acoustic guitar which is subjected to an appropriate studio shine (and possibly some kind of delay). The blanket of notes is mesmerizing – this is every reason Buckingham is revered as a musician as well as song writer. With this track, he captures the essence and brilliance of that performance of Fleetwood’s ‘Big Love’ (the one featured on ‘The Dance’) on a studio recording. It’s a track which can be played on a loop and never lose any of its sparkle. Similarly, the cover of The Rolling Stones’ ‘She Smiled Sweetly’ – which wraps things up – proves a fantastic showcase for Buckingham’s sounds of wood and strings pitched against breathy vocals. A track so subtle, yet brimming with professional brilliance, this provides a most appropriate ending.

Although this album stretches Buckingham’s work into a couple of new places stylistically and isn’t always as polished as some of his previous outings, his voice retains a heart-warming familiarity which will keep most listeners coming back time and again. And while some musicians would sound cheap surrounded by drum machines and programmed elements, throughout ‘Seeds We Sow’, Buckingham’s song writing runs rings around most and that – combined with his superb voice – is enough to make ‘Seeds We Sow’ a fantastic listening experience.

September 2011

PUDDLE OF MUDD – re(disc)overed

Since Puddle of Mudd began life as a bunch of post-grunge Nirvana wannabes with a strong connection to Fred Durst, the idea of them recording a covers album made up of (mostly) seventies rock classics is a little baffling.  However, that’s precisely the path they’ve chosen for their 2011 release ‘re(disc)overed’.

The idea that Puddle of Mudd could even attempt to record a creditable version of Free’s ‘All Right Now’ is a very odd one indeed, given that the original is something of a classic rock sacred cow.  Yet somehow, they manage to record version of this timeless classic which is surprisingly enjoyable in its own way.  This is largely down to Paul Phillips’s abilities as a guitarist, and his tones on ‘All Right Now’ mimick Paul Kossoff as best as he is able.  Even Doug Ardito’s bass playing maintains the presence of Andy Fraser’s take on the original cut, so that too, really should be applauded.  Naturally, Wes Scantlin is no Paul Rodgers so it falls down a little (ie: a lot) in the vocal department.  However, it works well enough all things considered.  Likewise, a sturdy run through of The James Gang’s ‘Funk #49’ has moments of great playing from Phillips, who really seems to get the most out of its bluesy tones.  Steve Miller’s ‘The Joker’ comes with a well crafted arrangement – as close to the original as POM can muster – where Phillips has some great fun on the slide guitar, and Scantlin’s nasal vocals occasionally give this well known number a slightly country vibe, particularly on the chorus.  It’s never going to match the original for most people, but it’s respectful enough.

Scantlin’s nasal approach is a little unsubtle with regard to Bad Company’s ‘Shooting Star’, but he does the best he can, especially since it doesn’t completely suit him.  As before, though, it’s the rest of the band which really hits the mark.  Shannon Boone’s drumming is incredibly solid throughout, and Phillips’s electric guitars have plenty of presence, but it’s the mandolins and acoustics which prove the most effective ingredient.  The featured solos have plenty of gusto (perhaps even a little too much) and the addition of female backing vocals and an old organ give the end of the song a fairly rousing send off.  One of the disc’s lesser known tunes, ‘Everybody Wants You’ (originally by Billy Squier) is a decent-ish rock tune, and although POM play it a little harder all round, it doesn’t really lose much in translation.  Squier’s limited vocal range also means that this is also one of Scantlin’s better efforts.

Perhaps best of all is a spot on take of Tom Petty’s ‘Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around’.  The arrangement is almost identical to the original, perhaps a little tougher, thus suiting the slightly rootsy end of Paul Phillips’s playing.  Obviously it doesn’t really challenge Scantlin in the vocal stakes either.  His range handles Petty’s words admirably, but once BC Jean challenges him with her take on Stevie Nicks’s counter vocal, he appears a little out of his depth.  BC absolutely nails the Nicks part, and although she doesn’t possess the same degree of wobble in her voice, she definitely has the presence to make the track work very well indeed.

Led Zeppelin’s ‘D’Yer’Mak’er’ doesn’t come off anywhere near as well.  The drums lack John Bonham’s power and the cod-reggae which the mighty Zep just about made enjoyable comes across here as weak.  The guitar parts are okay, though nothing special, but Wes Scantlin’s voice really struggles throughout.  Robert Plant was able to lend the original a bit of style, but Scantlin rasps and drawls his way through a very painful four minutes.  For all of its awfulness, though, that doesn’t grate as much as the version of Elton John’s ‘Rocket Man’.  Piano – check.  Swirling strings – check.  Choir of backing vocals – check.  Wes Scantlin’s vocal no better than a grungy dirge – check.   There aren’t enough words to describe how misguided this cover version is.  Trust me when I say that once you’ve heard it, it can never be unheard.  And I think it’s gonna be a long, long time before you ever choose to listen to it again.

Elsewhere, POM tackle the Stones ‘Gimme Shelter’ like any number of pub bands, AC/DC’s ‘TNT’ with a reasonable amount of gusto but none of Bon Scott’s cheeky charm, and absolutely drag Neil Young’s ‘Old Man’ through the pain barrier.  You never want to hear their version of that ‘Harvest’ classic…you really don’t. As with ‘All Right Now’, Phillips’s guitar work is commendable, but once Neil Young’s distinctive, fragile whine has been replaced by a Kurt Cobain-esque drawl, the magic is lost. A selection of female backing vocals help the chorus, but it’s just not enough.

It has a couple of high spots, but overall, ‘re(disc)overed’ is a very average disc, only of interest to hardcore Puddle of Mudd fans.  Still, if this makes a few of those fans check out a Free, Bad Company or Steve Miller album, at least it’s not been an entirely pointless exercise.

August 2011

VARIOUS ARTISTS – Listen To Me (Buddy Holly Tribute)

Had he lived, in September 2011, Charles Hardin Holley would have been celebrating his seventy-fifth birthday. To mark the occasion, in June, Buddy gained a tribute album celebrating his life and music. ‘Rave On Buddy Holly’ featured a whole host of rock and pop artists, each reimagining Holly’s songs in their own image. For Buddy’s more “traditional” fans, this album gained a mixed response, due to its favouring exposure to musicians from an alternative rock background. Comments like “travesty” and “spinning in his grave” were bandied about among the more narrow-minded listener. However, what they failed to appreciate is that the biggest travesty on the album did not come from the likes of The Strokes, Detroit Cobras or Black Keys, but from a well established artiste: Lou Reed’s ceremonial trashing of ‘Peggy Sue’ has to be one of the worst things ever committed to record in the name of tribute. However, regardless of what Buddy’s fans thought of that tribute album, it’s possible that Holly himself would have been overjoyed that his music was still important to people over half a century after his passing. While he may not have enjoyed the interpretations of his songs, he too, possibly would have been happy that his music had meant so much to such a broad audience.

Three months later, ‘Listen To Me’, a second tribute album appeared, this time with Holly’s widow’s blessing. If ‘Rave On Buddy Holly’ was geared towards the NME reader, this second tribute is aimed at a different audience, an older crowd – possibly the discerning Mojo enthusiast. For those who baulked at the idea of ‘Rave On Buddy Holly’, ‘Listen To Me’ is a disc which some will find more sympathetic to Holly’s songs. It features an impressive array of artistes, though it must be said, the end result is largely restrained.

One of this tribute’s edgiest performances comes from New York pop-rockers Cobra Starship and their rendition of ‘Peggy Sue’. They retain most of the original tune, but add a little of their own flair. This comes by way of a selection of new wave keyboards, a dual vocal and a heavily processed guitar solo. It’s radio friendly enough and manages to bring the tune into the twenty-first century without losing all of its spirit [fellow New Yorker, Mr Reed, please take note]. Patrick Stump may have an alternative background through his connections with Fall Out Boy, but his solo recording of ‘Everyday’ is syrupy and quite ordinary. The use of xylophones and backing vocals is pleasing – and the track is worth hearing for those – but Stump’s lead vocal lacks the power of some of his previous work. You’re never likely to skip it, but it lacks that certain something it should have had.

As said, for the most part, the other artists featured on ‘Listen To Me’ are of a more mature persuasion (for that read “suitable for more undemanding audiences”). Natalie Merchant offers a simply lovely rendition of ‘Learning The Game’ which blends solo voice and piano with an occasional violin accompaniment. The music is soft and respectful, but it’s Merchant’s voice here which is the big draw. Her slightly weary, slightly warbly vocal line pulls every ounce of heartbreak from the song’s lyric. Singer/actress Zooey Deschanel also scores one of the album’s best results with a version of ‘It’s So Easy’ which is very rich in the vocal department. Her lead voice is strong and as natural as ever, but she’s also joined by a choir of backing voices which more than compliment her. With her recordings as one half of She & Him (featured on the “other” Buddy tribute), things are often quite sparse, rarely allowing for such swirling gorgeousness. ‘It’s So Easy’ has rarely sounded so appealing.

Beatle enthusiast and full time beard wearer Jeff Lynne takes hold of the reins on a version of ‘Words of Love’. It’s pleasant enough, but those familiar with the ELO man’s work beyond the 70s know exactly what they’re in for here: the guitars ring out crisply over the top of a horribly compressed drum sound, making the track sound like a Traveling Wilburys out-take (albeit one with a flat vocal). Interestingly enough, though, it doesn’t sound as much like a Wilburys cast off as Lyle Lovett’s version of ‘Well All Right’! Lovett’s country tinged vocals are very well suited to this number, and it’s possible to imagine Roy Orbison giving it a similar turn during the twilight of his career. It’s the arrangement here which really works though, and a superb blend of acoustic guitars and mandolins sounds tailor made for the song.

The hopelessly overrated Imelda May lends her retro schtick to a ‘I’m Lookin’ For Someone To Love’, where the high points include a muted trumpet solo and rock ‘n’ roll guitar solo. None of the kudos here should in any way be given to May herself, who severely lacks the chops her chosen genre of music requires. Seriously, why does this woman’s bland take on rock ‘n’ roll lead to praise being heaped upon her, when there are other retro artists out there who’ve either been denied just as deserving a credit or, rather more unfortunately, fallen by the wayside? The god-like Jackson Browne’s velvety vocals are a joy to hear on a softly orchestrated ‘True Love Ways’, however. Granted, he’s not pushing the envelope musically or vocally in any way, but the song suits him very much indeed. Jackson Browne’s many fans will find this cover a delight for sure.

Linda Ronstadt lends her distinctive and much loved voice to an otherwise uninspired run through of ‘That’ll Be The Day’, while Brian Wilson stamps his trademark style on ‘Listen To Me’ with similarly unsurprising results. Elsewhere, Ringo Starr and his band sound like they’re having fun with a slightly calypso tinged take of ‘Think It Over’. It’s been said many times, but Starr isn’t the world’s most gifted vocalist, but what he lacks vocally, he makes up for with enthusiasm – and this is no exception. For those looking for someone else to reinterpret more of Holly’s sadder tones, Chris Isaak does not disappoint, as his crying vocals lend an expected amount of class to a version of ‘Crying Waiting Hoping’. With a sparse arrangement which centres around Isaak’s overly emotive voice and his retro guitar sounds, this certainly rivals Natalie Merchant in the heartbreak stakes.

The disc closes with an unnecessary and altogether pointless novelty entry. Legendary comedian Eric Idle hams his way through a rendition of ‘Raining In My Heart’ which, at first, combines a spoken vocal and soft string accompaniment with a few sound effects. As the thunder claps, Idle pretends to cry. And with that, things move into the mid section which replaces the soft strings with jazzy electric piano, before Idle turns everything into a grotesquely annoying knees-up. Just horrible.

While the magic of Holly’s songs shines through, most of these covers come across rather safe (Idle is not included in this overview, since his effort seems rather contrived and tacked on the end as an afterthought). Most of the performances are respectful – stately, even – but compared to ‘Rave On Buddy Holly’ it’s a rather predictable collection of songs. That doesn’t necessarily make it worse – for some listeners, it represents a better vision of what they’d expect from such a tribute, and is certainly a top collection filler if picked up at the right price.

September 2011

RED HOT CHILI PEPPERS – I’m With You

Red Hot Chili Peppers’ 2001 album ‘By The Way’ can be seen as a pivotal album for the band.  While their early 90s releases ‘Mother’s Milk’ and ‘Blood Sugar Sex Magik’ very much acted as a worldwide breakthrough with a strong mix of rock and funk, ‘By The Way’ bought a new maturity to the Chili Peppers sound.  That album’s songs had many more soulful elements and fewer rap style elements than previously, and the song writing became even more radio friendly.   The band attempted a similar vibe on their 2006 follow up, ‘Stadium Arcadium’ – a sprawling double set which almost did away with all things overtly funk driven.  Quite frankly, although ‘By The Way’ achieved some enjoyable results, by comparison, ‘Arcadium’ was bloated, far too safe and ultimately incredibly boring.

Half a decade later, the band has seen an important change in personnel, with long serving guitarist John Frusciante having departed (for the second time).  With new blood comes new ideas, but although the arrival of Josh Kinghoffer (a man who once had a band with Frusciante) has given the band’s sound a noticeable lift, he doesn’t seem to have changed the Chili Peppers as dramatically as the arrival of Dave Navarro back in 1996.

Those who approach ‘I’m With You’ – the Chili Peppers’ tenth studio release – expecting a return to the arrogance and bluster which fuelled ‘Blood Sugar Sex Magik’ are likely to find the album a little too commercial in places, but thankfully, it has more spark than the band has shown during the preceding decade.  And while there’s an instant familiarity with some of the material, there’s never any obvious point where the band appear to be rewriting old songs or attempting to live off past glories.

This is evident right from the moment the opening number ‘Monarchy of Roses’ hits its stride.  Following a somewhat messy intro of feedback squalls and rolling drums, the rhythms are incredibly tight.  Chad Smith sounds more inspired behind his kit than he has in some years, while Klinghoffer’s guitar rhythms are sharp and heavily driven by funk.  As you’d hope, Anthony Kiedis’s vocals are incredibly tuneful and Flea’s accompanying bassline is busy, though not as out there as his formative years.  It’s a fantastic opening statement, one which you’d fear the band are no longer capable of following with a similar intensity, however, during following track, ‘Factory of Faith’, the band sound just as enthused – perhaps even more so.  The number is dominated by Flea’s bass, constantly looping and bending, over which Kiedis delivers a vocal which has a hard, almost staccato style (much less flowing than most his ‘Stadium Arcadium’ performances). These elements combined celebrate the band’s older funk elements while pitching them against a strong chorus, thus tipping the hat to their more radio friendly sounds of the naughties.

Even more surprising, parts of ‘Look Around’ resemble the band which recorded ‘Mother’s Milk’ almost two decades previously.  Yes, it’s a little slower and, of course, a little more mature, but the thickness of Klinghoffer’s guitar tone brings a strong tribute to the Chili Peppers of yesteryear.  His leads even mimick Frusciante’s tuneless wails on occasion.  As for the song writing itself, the funky verses are enjoyable, but the chorus is stupidly infectious – one of the best things the band has written in a long, long time.  Strong vocals, strong melodies, strong musicianship; you really couldn’t ask for more.  The semi-acoustic ‘Brendan’s Death Song’ shows the band’s softest side at first, with a gentle arrangement underpinned by Smith’s rolling drums – almost tribal on occasion – but before long things sound a little predictable.  There’s no obvious hook here and things never pick up beyond a mid pace. A sharp rise in aggressiveness towards the end allows Smith to bash at his kit in a tried and tested rock style, and that change of mood is much needed.  However, despite best efforts from all concerned, a combination of relatively ordinary arrangement and slightly too long a duration makes this number ‘I’m With You’s weakest link.

‘Goodbye Hooray’ has a sharp edge in a style the Chilis have never really had before.  This is likely down to Klinghoffer’s guitar tones which are more insistant than most of Frusciante’s noodlings, though certainly not as aggressive as Navarro’s leads on tracks like ‘Warped’.  Throughout this number, they combine a typical musical sharpness with another very tuneful chorus.  Those who came to check out Flea’s basslines with probably find this is a number they’ll return to most frequently; not only does he turn in some upfront bass which busies almost relentlessly beneath what is otherwise another commercial chorus, but there’s also an incredibly impressive bass solo midway.  Not to be outdone, Kinghoffer’s featured solo at the end of this number is angry and metallic – perhaps the most threatening piece of guitar work to appear on a Chili Peppers record since Dave Navarro’s departure.

‘Annie Wants a Baby’ brings a greater leaning toward pop harmonies, but even these are generally more inspiring than anything ‘Stadium Arcadium’ even attempted to offer its audience, similar or otherwise.  ‘Annie’ captures the band in fine vocal form, but perhaps most importantly, gives each of the players equal space in its arrangement.  Chad Smith provides a solid backbone and Flea’s basslines are unwavering – never missing the opportunity for a few interesting fills on occasion. Perhaps, though, it is Klinghoffer’s ringing guitar tones which bring the greatest element to this number, proving that he is gifted with a little more finesse than his immediate predecessor.

The lead single ‘The Adventures of Raindance Maggie’ is equipped with a great pulsing bassline and singalong chorus.  It isn’t the most adventurous cut here, but even so, it’s hard to knock the arrangement – casting a funky, yet poppy groove throughout; even with the addition of a slightly intrusive cowbell, it’s all great stuff.   ‘Even You Brutus’ brings something a little different to the Chili Peppers’ repertoire – a tune which has a strongly rooted piano line.  After a slow intro, the tune moves into a slightly r ‘n’ b influenced groove where that piano lays down some hard chords throughout.  Even though this tune doesn’t have the sharp qualities of a few others on ‘I’m With You’, Flea can still be heard beavering away underneath the chorus, weaving intricate basslines, making them fit where others wouldn’t dare think they would be suitable.  While certainly not gold standard RHCP, you have to give the band a little credit for trying something new.

Combining a few pounding drums with a calypso inspired (dare we say disco, even?) arrangement, ‘Dance Dance Dance’ closes the selection of tunes with something very upbeat.  As with most of ‘I’m With You’, it’s well crafted, but it’s with a brief instrumental break where the greatest moment can be heard.  Klinghoffer cranks his guitar a little and Smith also ups the ante and the pair drive home a great, choppy riff; if only it had gone on longer than a few bars, the band could have really started cookin’!  But a few bars is all we’re given before returning to the funky calypso-ish sounds.  It could be said ‘Dance Dance Dance’ a little throwaway, but it makes for a pleasing end to the album.

Despite all the pre-release hype, it was likely that ‘I’m With You’ could have wound up being a crowd pleasing, relatively safe affair that only served to make middle aged people feel hip.  It’s so thrilling to be able to say that the Chili Peppers were as good as their claims prior to the album’s release: they really sound like they’re getting off on this material and not just going through the motions.   Since Flea has said these fourteen cuts were selected from a stockpile of seventy songs, there’s a strong sense of quality control – and it shows.  Welcome back, guys, welcome back.

August 2011