Album Review: Stadium Arcadium by Red Hot Chili Peppers

Rubin may be able to create the right atmosphere for Flea and John Frusciante to run wild creatively -- an opportunity that they seize here, which is indeed a pleasure to hear -- but he does nothing to encourage them to brighten the finished recording up with some different textures, or even a greater variety of guitar tones. As such, the bare-bone production combined with the relentless march of songs gives Stadium Arcadium the undeniable feel of wading through the demos for a promising project instead of a sprawling statement of purpose; there's not enough purpose here for it to be a statement. That fault is down to the band not forming the raw material into something palatable for the listener, but there's also the problem that as a lyricist Anthony Kiedis just isn't that deep or clever enough to provide cohesive themes for an album of this length; he tackles no new themes here, nor does he provide new insight to familiar topics.

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Two years ago, when asked about current music, Nick Cave focused his ire on one band in particular. "I'm forever near a stereo saying, 'What the fuck is this GARBAGE?'" he fumed. "And the answer is always the Red Hot Chili Peppers." Cave's puzzlement is understandable. How did a band with such a motley past and so few undeniably classic songs become, in terms of stature and longevity, America's answer to U2? The true measure of their success is not the three sold-out Hyde Park dates in summer 2004 - the highest grossing single-venue rock event ever - nor the 25m sales of their last two records, but the fact that a two-hour album with a title that would embarrass a sci-fi novel has inspired not a single titter.

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