Fretboard #1

How RHCP's Goodbye Angels is a literal meditation in mellowness and explosion.

I’m taking a slight diversion to write this piece.

Earlier, I had planned to write something on the lines of sports and tech, and that will still happen. However, in the middle of researching and thinking about that piece, I went to a shack bar in Goa called Cajy’s. It was described to me as a classic rock bar, so I expected a lot of 70s, 80s stuff. Of course, it ended up surprising me and played some modern classics, too, one among them a song by the Red Hot Chili Peppers that I hadn’t listened to yet. What follows is the fact that the day following that, I listened to that song for at least 20 times straight (and probably woke my friends a bit too much in the headbanging process). There’s also no question I’m listening to this as I type these words out. However, there’s a reason as to why I played this song so much, and it involves some scenery.

Anyway, we’ll come back to this panorama later.

The Getaway was the last album RHCP made (they have one more incoming), and the last album in which they had replacement guitarist Josh Klinghoffer (because John Frusciante was on one of his many breaks). What followed was a story of heartbreak: Frusciante returned to his band mates in 2019, in turn kicking out Josh, who had been with them three years after the release of Stadium Arcadium in 2006. It was termed as a “simple decision” for the band to get back John. While there are no hard feelings between Josh and RHCP now, it had hurt a lot, like any such breakup would.

I haven’t come around to listening to a lot of their Klinghoffer-era work yet, mostly only from The Getaway, if anything (to be honest, not a lot from Blood Sex Sugar Magik either). But my relationship with RHCP is interesting: Otherside is a top 5 song for me. The song broadly covers depression and suicide pretty graphically, yet only for the song to actually still attempt on a note where Kiedis (or the character he represents) wants to continue to live. Thankfully, I’ve never struggled with suicidal ideation, but the song invigorates me on a really bad day. I’m not sure I can describe the feeling that comes with Otherside without writing 1500 words more. But, the best way I think I can describe it is that it gives me a few more seconds underwater with every bass kick, even though I’m drowning for sure. There’s no lifeboat, but there is some breath underwater. And it’s weird, because I’m actually a good swimmer in real life. And, of course, Otherside had John Frusciante.

Today, I’m glad to tell you that I have finally found a RHCP song with a slow build-up that does the exact opposite for me. I don’t know why they love the A-minor scale so much (I think it allows them to skirt that morbid-but-optimistic line of music). But, it starts with a simple riff that feels like the sea breeze. Flea keys in with a soft bass line, and Kiedis talks about finding love in tough times, and losing that same love (it’s actually about Kiedis’ breakup with an Australian supermodel, Helena Vestergaard). It’s a little similar to Green Day’s “Time Of Your Life” that way - both Armstrong and Kiedis make breakups sound like extremely profound and spiritual experiences. I don’t deem it as such, but I prefer to view it all as being promising. Which is sort of the same as optimism.

Of course, that sea breeze feeling shifting into Chad Smith’s beautiful, nimble hands clicking into his set with a slow beat that cues them at 0:34 for the incoming chorus. It’s the sea breeze I felt hitting me as I checked out that panoramic view I took above at Chapora Fort. It’s not spiritual or anything, but what did happen was that I felt all of my important memories and deep insecurities mush into a force at that moment. A force only recurrent with when I would listen to Otherside, but more joyful and representative of being content. Goa had a monsoon forecast, so along with the waves, I saw grey clouds moving across a late sunset. If you’ve ever seen a YouTube video of RHCP performing live, you might agree that they’re an absolute rage, especially when you have John and Josh both on stage. A lot akin to seeing clouds moving furiously across a bright yellow sun. Imagine the guitarist in Mad Max: Fury Road, but he’s not always playing hard riffs. The lyrics might explain my rush of blood to the head:

Suicide a month before I met you
Deep regrets, I never could forget you
Somehow you made your way to my decade
Ayo ayo ayo ayo, my girl
In the sun, I see you with your guard down
Number one, you're moving to a hard town
Do not dismiss the promise that you made me
Ayo ayo ayo ayo, my time

At 1:21, the song breaks into a pattern of pre-chorus and hook established before, but with a classic Chad Smith beat. This is also where the song spreads out like a buffet, and I began fully absorbing that view. Then, at 1:50, here’s a little waterdrop-like guitar playing happening in the background, and it reminds me of how much I’ve loved both the bass and the electric aspects of RHCP’s repertoire. However, here is a person who was on the wrong end of his band’s loyalty stick, and this was his last single. Knowing the backstory of the song (because I can’t help but Wiki my music), I felt like I wanted to prove something to the world right there, much like a certain replacement guitarist. And the view only bolstered my ambitions, because before that panorama, I had no idea that things like that view were possible in real life. It was too good to be true. I would have given up at all those moments, only for me to not experience….whatever this is?

I am possibly being melodramatic about a view that Bollywood already glorified on TV, but please allow me to wax lyrical.

After the second hook, at 2:49, the song enters a soft bridge, marking that it wants to close the song. This is where the lyrics turn a little introspective and possibly penitent:

Babe, I know love is a funny thing
Born to die in the eternal spring

I have been wondering for very long what it is with Kiedis and connecting literally everything with death in some shape or form. The foursome have had some wild experiences from what I know, and the infinite rehabs are infamous. I don’t think he’s talking about toxic relationships at all (for that, you’d have to look at the time they were sexualizing an 18 year old; why would you do this, guys?). And I’d be lying if I said I knew what he means by these lines.

And that’s when, in his pre-chorus repeat at 3:10, it probably makes a little more sense because of these lyrics:

Your flickering is more than just a small flame
Welcome to the party, it's a ball game
Pick up the stick it's time to get hit with
Ayo ayo ayo ayo, my bat
Suicide is never gonna save you
When I cried, it was because I came to
You are the one I want to know right now
Ayo ayo ayo ayo, kiss this

It’s been a while since I’ve seen a view so beautiful. It’s been a while since I realised that there were possibilities beyond the realm of my understanding, where the sun looked like caramel custard. If there’s anything I learned in school, it’s the magic of land and sea breezes (imagine remembering anything from school). My head went back to those charts they used to showcase how the breezes functioned. It’s been a while since I cried to someone I loved: be it friend, family, or significant other. It’s been a while since I felt this content, despite every insecurity I’ve ever had and continue to have, and it wasn’t a fleeting moment of happiness either. I doubt Klinghoffer knew that “Goodbye Angels” was the last single he’d ever compose with RHCP, but he still played it like he would never again play with them. For some reason, the view represented a similar idea. I’m talking about a view that might possibly convince you of the idea that there is yet hope with this world.

At the end of the song, beginning 3:32, after Kiedis says “kiss this”, Flea breaks out into some hardcore bass slapping. After 8 bars, Josh Klinghoffer plays a jacked-up, hellish, high-pitched riff in the A-minor scale. I’m no guitarist, but I can imagine how he’d have to shift his fingers to either end of his fretboard to play that riff. There’s a moment where Flea stops playing, so you can hear the magnanimity of Klinghoffer’s notes against Smith’s drums. And then comes a thumping beehive drone; like a throbbing fumigator (yes, like the one you hear in Parasite), but tuned to perfection. You know when you’re listening to a piece of music that you’re sure you’ll repeat so many more times in your life? If the song was great so far, this section solidified it for me as a favorite. Maybe, just maybe, I have an RHCP bias.

The reason I call this #1 is because I have plans to write more of these snippets where I talk about a song that I really like, and what parts of my life I associate with certain sections of the song. I wrote it in the midst of my trip in a 2-hour binge, because I was still reeling from the view. I’m not sure I’ve had that feeling a lot, let alone from a view.

I’m going to leave you with the song, would highly recommend the live version also.

I’d love to write about Otherside in a different post, but it’s a song that I like sharing with other people a lot. And it has one of the most haunting music videos to exist:

There was also a time John and Josh played together, that I think is absolutely bonkers. Dani California starts at 8:06, and the headbanging is taken to another level.

And just this one photo. Maybe there is hope yet for my photography.

Until next post, which is most definitely about all that $$ in live sports.