Review Summary: "The Red Hots Have Baby Appeal" - For The Better And The Worse
There are bands with normal careers and then there are the Red Hot Chili Peppers. Their line-up has been as inconsistent as the quality of their music, not to mention the personal struggles and tragedies that require way too much space than this review can give. However, given their sudden breakthrough with 1991's "Blood, Sugar, Sex, Magic" and pretty much everything they released afterwards, it is easy to forget that the quintessential L.A. Band made no less than 4 records in the 80's. Their reception on these releases was a mixture of confusion and negativity, more recent reviews falsely expected them to sound like their rather radio friendly stuff and were equally disappointed. They did little commercally too, which is not surprinsing in an era dominated by hair metal and synth pop. For most people, it's a rather forgotten era in their backcatalogue. Hell, I have seen too many surprised faces after I had told somebody that there used to be a guy in this band called Hillel Slovak, who is not only a forming member but who also died of a heroin overdose right before their first taste of success.
If you are one of those people I have good news for you: Some of their early stuff is absolutely fantastic and impressively ahead of its time. Sure, it's more of an acquired taste, you won't find any radio-ready melodies here (John Frusciante was 13 years old when this album was released) and as always, your enjoyment of the Peppers always comes down to the question "can you stand Anthony Kiedis' voice and sex-or-nonsense lyrics?". But if you are someone who generally likes them but thinks that this band has become a little too tame for their own good in the past years, the early years are absolutely worth checking out, as those albums are defined by a rougher punkrock sound than everything post 1991.
Unfortunately, the self-titled debut is the exception. I hate to get too much into the backstory, but in this case it's necessary to understand why this album sounds as awkward as it does. After their formation in 1983 the Chilis immediately became an underground cult phenomenon in L.A. because of their stage antics and the exciting blend of funk, punk and hip-hop, which led to their signing on major label EMI. But problems appeared soon.
Shortly before the recording sessions the Chili Peppers had to replace two important founding members, which were drummer Jack Irons as well as guitarist and musical force of the early days Hillel Slovak. This was a very devastating factor in a band that relies more than most on the chemistry of its members. New guitarist Jack Sherman fills Slovak's shoes competently but his playing completely lacks any energy or originality. On the other hand, Cliff Martinez with his excellent tricky grooves is a more than enough replacement for Irons, but his undeniable talent is wasted on an album with a drum sound that could be easily mistaken for programmed drum machines and we all know how well these have aged.
Case in point, RHCP chose Gang Of Four guitarist Andy Gill as their producer, which may sound good on paper, since Gill's former band also had strong funk/r'n'b influences, but it is incredibly obvious that he did absolutely not understand the Chili's eclectic punk spirit or their love for organic funk music. Instead, his sterile and stereotypical 80s production robs the songs of their spontaneous and freakish energy that made the follow ups so much fun to listen to.
Add an already heroin addicted Anthony Kiedis with shaky rapskills to the mix who hasn't found his vocal style yet, and we're in for a disaster of an album, right?
Well, it's not that easy. Pretty much every single song contains enjoyable or at least interesting parts and ideas, but only few are NOT plagued by the aforementioned problems of the recording sessions. The opener „True Men Don't Kill Coyotes“ is driven by a killer bassline by Flea (he's pretty much the record's saving grace), Anthony adds some freaky shouts and even Sherman's screaming guitarsolo actually packs a punch. „Get up and Jump“ also slaps in more than one way, while the goofy throwaway „Police Helicopter“ finally brings in some punk rock, if only for a minute. „Green Heaven“ is a different beast. Its dark and somewhat twisted atmosphere fits Anthonys consciousrap-verses surprisingly well (safe for the middle part about how lovely dolphins are) and since this group rarely returned to similar sinister moods, this is a welcome surprise. So much for the higlights.
On the negative side, the worst offender is ironically the Pepper's very first song they ever wrote, "Out in L.A.". Compare the lifeless track on the album to the fiery demo take included on the remastered edition or the live version from 1985 in Germany with Slovak on guitar and you will get what I mean. It should have been the highlight here, thanks to Gill and Sherman it's just as confused as the rest of the tracklist. To a lesser extent, it doesn't take too much imagination to hear that "Baby Appeal" and "Buckle Down" could have been the raging funk-rockers they should have been, but it's also hard not to be annoyed by the unnecessary sound effects and the thin production (again, thanks Andy Gill).
Elsewhere it's hard to believe that anyone included could have thought that turning "Why don't you love me?" by Hank Williams into an unholy marriage of country (!) and funk was an idea worth trying (but I admit, the godawful horns never fail to make me laugh). Anthony couldn't let things go undisturbed either, as his...questionable lyrics ruin the funkiest groove the album has to offer on "Mommy, Where's Daddy?" (Take a guess what that's about. It's even worse).
The out of place closing instrumental "Grand Pappy Du Plenty" might be the least Peppers-sounding song ever and it doesn't go anywhere, but the desert-like atmosphere makes it at least unique.
Overall, this is one of the most frustrating records I have ever listened to because the core of the band, Anthony and Flea, are not the ones blame here. Understandibly, those guys were not too thrilled about it either and you can constantly feel the „Whatever, let's get this done and move on“-vibe. With the original line-up, a better fitting producer, this could have been really good. Did you notice a lot of „could/should have beens“ in this review? There you have it. This is a „what could have been?“-album, if I have ever heard one.
If you want to explore the wild weirdness of the early Peppers, you better stick to the follow-ups "Freaky Styley" for their funkiest and "The Uplift Mofo Party Plan" for their heaviest album. The aforementioned mistakes were corrected there, with the exception of their drugs habits. This debut remains a shaky start and for diehard fans only. It's probably no one's favourite Chili Peppers album, but at least it's an interesting kind of failure.
