It was an early evening in June 2006, at the Hollywood studio of music photographer Neil Zlozower. Decades of rock photos covered the walls of a dark alcove that opened into a large, well-lit room, where a busy assistant on a ladder adjusted a huge backdrop.
“Is Charlie here yet?” The impending arrival of the veteran jazz bassist was clearly causing anxious excitement despite the bona-fide rock star already present. Flea responded by strapping on his '61 Fender Jazz Bass and stabbing energetically at its flatwound strings, escaping into his own musical world.
