“Someone has to come and teach me self-control,” sings Anthony Keidis towards the end of the ear-melting jazz-funk odyssey, “Aquatic Mouth Dance”. It’s the third of an exhausting 17 tracks on the Red Hot Chili Peppers’ 12th album, which promises Unlimited Love but instead delivers unlimited noodling. I’ve used the term “noodling” for years, but never has music reminded me so viscerally of soft, bland carbs being squirted relentlessly into looping strings and flopping lifelessly on to a kitchen counter. The effect is mostly caused by bass lines from Flea that feel less played than extruded. But Keidis’s free-associating lyrics, paired with returning guitarist John Frusciante’s headless-chicken riffing, add scant sauce to this droopy dish.
For the first time since 2014, the Los Angelean groovesters have reunited with producer Rick Rubin, who first dangled his beard over the mixing desk on their 1991 breakthrough album, Blood Sugar Sex Magik. The record featured era-defining punk-funk hits such as “Under the Bridge” and “Give it Away”; Rubin stuck with them for their following five albums. Interviewed on Chris Jericho’s podcast last year, he said the band’s strength lay in the sheer quantity of songs they write – but admitted that he didn’t necessarily know how to “fix” their mass of material. In this case, he seems to have just hit “record” and let them jam until their batteries ran out. They certainly haven’t recaptured that Nineties energy.
