The best Red Hot Chili Peppers songs
- Oops!Something went wrong.Please try again later.
- Oops!Something went wrong.Please try again later.
- Oops!Something went wrong.Please try again later.
- Oops!Something went wrong.Please try again later.
Born into the smoggy creative vortex that was 1980s Los Angeles, the Red Hot Chili Peppers were latchkey kids on a mission. Anthony Kiedis (singer), Flea (Michael Peter Balzary, bass) Hillel Slovak (guitar) and Jack Irons (drums) made melodic and chaotic songs that reflected their quest for experience — love and friendship, sex and drugs, music and…abs. Even the death of Slovak and the departure of Irons couldn't stop them. Kiedis and Flea rose from the ashes, bringing guitar prodigy John Frusciante and drumming monster Chad Smith into the brotherhood that persists today, almost 40 years later.
Playing their first show in 1983, the Chili Peppers were part of a punk-inspired renaissance hell-bent on showing the world a different side of the dream factory, from films like Repo Man and Miracle Mile to books like Less Than Zero and Weetzie Bat, to, most crucially, music. Like their brethren of the time (X, Black Flag, Minutemen) Kiedis and co. did more than understand the assignment — they aced it — cracking the code of what it means to live and die in LA.
And if you're wondering how Tony Flow and the Miraculously Majestic Masters of Mayhem survived for so long, the answer is as obvious as an Oki Dog with cheese — friendship, my dudes. Their power lies in their bond, making music together seems as essential to their existence as air, food, water, and…sex.
Speaking of, Kiedis' habit of inserting (sorry) icky double-entendres into most of their songs can feel like being trapped in a hot tub between Austin Powers and Will Ferrell's "lover" character. But, contrary to critical jests, they're also really good — full of jittery creativity and sneaky depth. Kiedis' writing unspools in gloriously weird ways, rolling like Kerouac's scroll, matched by a band with the power to lift you right out of your shoes. The Chili Peppers thrive in that place where the brightest sun meets the darkest shadows — a place called Los Angeles.
And now, in celebration of Return of the Dream Canteen, their 13th studio album and second release in 2022, we present, in chronological order, the best Red Hot Chili Peppers songs.
"Higher Ground" (1989)
1989's Mother's Milk presented a new and different sound — less underground funk-punk, more aggressively metal-adjacent. And this difference is exactly why some people love this record, while others...not so much. In a recent interview with Rick Rubin on his Broken Record podcast, Frusciante describes how producer Michael Beinhorn amped up their sound on this album. "...He wanted everything to be pushed extra hard…about 10-15 BPM faster than we would play those songs live."
On some tracks, applying this Big Rock sound to their noodly roots created real magic — like the cover of Stevie Wonder's funk-tastic "Higher Ground." Thank this song (and "Knock Me Down") for the Peps' entrance into the mainstream: the video was a hit on MTV and the album became their first gold. And though they wouldn't work with Beinhorn again, his big, bold production style pushed the Peppers onto the world's stage, where they would remain for the rest of their career.
"Knock Me Down" (1989)
In 1994, the Red Hot Chili Peppers' request to appear on Sesame Street was rejected (clearly, the Children's Television Workshop hadn't heard "Knock Me Down.") The second single off of Mother's Milk is a giant hug of a song, a tribute to the power of friendship and feelings ("Don't be afraid to show your friends that you hurt inside"). Not only would the world be deprived of a felt Flea puppet (yes, most musical guests appear in human form, but a person can dream), but we also missed a muscular, heavy chorus building to a near-desperate pitch.
The song, and the shouted chorus especially, will feel familiar to anyone who's ever tried helping a loved one overcome addiction. No offense to Kate Bush, but if a song could save your life, it would probably sound like this: sunshine and power, passion and rage, a best friend shaking you awake, grabbing your hand, and pulling you out of the darkness. And even if we never get to see Flea hanging out with his distant cousins, the Muppets (or Smith having a drum-off with Animal), at least we'll always have The Simpsons.
"Give it Away" (1991)
The most significant change between Mother's Milk and its follow-up, 1991's Blood Sugar Sex Magik, is Rick Rubin's entrance as a fifth member — not playing an instrument, mind you, but as a producer. Under Rubin's guidance, the band said goodbye to the more bombastic, hyper-speed style of Mother's Milk and opened the door to a new sound — stripped-down and primal — exemplified by "Give it Away."
A philosophical speed-bag of a song about cleaning out your closets and/or sex, this is a song so ahead of its time there's a good chance we haven't caught up yet. The song showcases the wondrously solid Smith/Flea rhythm section — a pounding, bursting metallic heart — while Frusciante sneaks in the back with a Hendrix-y backwards solo. The Stéphane Sednaoui-directed video contributed as much to their legend as the music itself, stunning early '90s viewers with an unforgettable vision of a freaky silver desert-satyr universe. "Give it Away" proclaimed to the world that the Chili Peppers had entered a fiery new phase, a creative peak they had only just begun to climb.
"Under the Bridge" (1991)
Rubin's quest for a more honest Chili Peppers — less obviously "produced," more vulnerable and real — is best exemplified by "Under the Bridge." Legend has it Kiedis had these lyrics in a notebook, not intended for sharing, but Rubin found it, encouraging him and the rest of the band to turn it into a song.
An aching ballad detailing the loneliness Kiedis felt in the throes of addiction, the band turns it into a sweeping epic, different from anything they'd done before. The song became their highest-charting single and continues to be beloved, a timeless classic for the ages. The fact that Frusciante, his mother, and her church choir provided the operatic backing vocals for the finale is the audio equivalent of guardian angels watching over the narrator in his darkest hour.
"Soul to Squeeze" (1993)
Feather-light, carried along by a breezy guitar riff and a burbling-brook bass, "Soul to Squeeze" has an easy-does-it quality that belies the subtext — this is a song about recovery. And on paper, when Kiedis steps into this springtime field of flowers with "I got a bad disease / Up from my brain is where I bleed," the effect sounds jarring, like the wrong lyrics accidentally cut into this pretty tune. Then again, this couplet kinda proves the thing fans already know and love: self-expression takes priority over commercial appeal.
A slow, steady build follows the lyric's advice to take it slow and find peace of mind. As a "lost" track from Blood Sugar Sex Magik, the song wasn't included on the album but instead released as a B-side (and as part of the Coneheads soundtrack, of all things), eventually hitting number one on the US Billboard Modern Rock chart. But it's not all mellowship here; Kiedis can't resist a little ridiculous scatting. In the words of the immortal bard: Doo doo doo doo dingle zing a dong bone, Ba-di ba-da ba-zumba crunga cong.
"Around the World" (1999)
The first 25 seconds of this, the opening track to 1999's Californication, are primal. No, make that primeval — the sound of a band emerging out of the tar pits, busting from the muck, reborn. Flea is in undeniable beast mode here, backed by Smith's stick-splintering Rhythmasaurus Rex and Frusciante's rock god riffage, all topped with a screeeeam — their way of announcing the funky monks were back.
The whole song continues on this course of unbridled joy, practically levitating with the energy and happiness that Frusciante has returned, but more than that, he has survived. It had been seven years since the youngest member left, mid-tour, falling into a horrific, extended, near-death addiction. But now he was back — sober, healthy, and somehow even more talented and on fire than before. The fact that they chose "Around the World" as the opener on what is arguably their greatest album speaks volumes. Alternating between melodic and raging, tragic and magic (and with a deep commitment to silliness) this song just might be the best f-off to death and darkness ever made.
"Parallel Universe" (1999)
Continuing the welcome back party, the second Californication track finds the band still firing on all cylinders, standing atop of the Hollywood sign and declaring "I'm a California King!" to the world (or at least the valley). On this propulsive song, a master class in build/release, Kiedis boasts some of the snakiest writing and wildest singing yet. And Flea's got some wicked wizardry going on. The technical explanation is that that whole bass part is a constant thrum of 16th notes without a rest…but we call it magic. The rolling groove, the perfect rhythm, the heartbeat of this band is Flea in every way. Yeah, forget guitar solos — Flea makes his case that the bass is the place.
"Scar Tissue" (1999)
Here, on the third song from Californication, the party takes a timeout for self-reflection. It's a bit "Under the Bridge"-y, not that there's anything wrong with that, because the lyrics are great ("Soft spoken with a broken jaw / I'll make it to the moon if I have to crawl"), the mood is introspective but never dour, and the music finds that perfect balance between relaxed and driving. But the trick that kicks it up to greatness are Frusciante's vocals. His gorgeous harmonies, which transformed the sound of the band on this album, are a little like Beach Boys with an edge.
In a 1994 interview with the Austin Chronicle, Frusciante gives Rubin (continuing on in his producer role) the credit for making him a background singer, an idea he initially resisted. Thank the musical gods he reconsidered — the result injects layers of emotional depth and rich sonic beauty. And considering the horrors Frusciante overcame to get to this point, his oozing harmonies sound even sweeter.
"Otherside" (1999)
This list doesn't have a number one, but if it did, "Otherside" — yet another song from the masterpiece that is Californication — could be it. It's a seamless fusion of everything the Peppers do best: dark soul-wrestling, killer vibes, rolling bass lines, haunting guitars, and a perfectly, painfully depicted series of images forming into a story. Kiedis is in top form here; as usual, he makes the listener dig for the answers and ponder the possibilities. Where other writers might bluntly present the story of an addict going through the pains of recovery, he takes a different approach, an economy that allows the listener to fill in the details. And the harmony-rich melodic chorus ("How long, how loo-ooo-oong, will I slide?") is an aching, full-throated invitation for all of us to sing along.
"Californication" (1999)
Sunset Boulevard. The Big Sleep. Double Indemnity. Californication. The Red Hot Chili Peppers presenting their home state as a seething cesspool of depravity — a pretty surface masking dark undercurrents — is like a musical version of a 1940s film noir. Many of these films were set in LA, the land of contrasts — image vs. reality, dark vs. light, good vs. bad — a duality the Chili Peppers are quite familiar with. "Californication" feels like clicking through photos on a found phone — blood in the bathroom stall, plastic surgery disasters, teenage brides — accompanied by the achiest guitar this side of Sunset. "Space may be the final frontier but it's made in a Hollywood basement" sums it up quite well…you think you're looking at the glorious universe, but it's only fantasy commodified, packaged, and sold.
"By The Way" (2002)
Heavy glow. On all of "By The Way," (the 2002 record and this single) you can hear the sound of Frusciante stepping into a more prominent production role, applying a gorgeous, nearly wall-of-sound approach. This song is a minor miracle, whiplashing from frantic choc-choc rhythm guitar to a harmony-drenched '60s-style chorus, a pattern that mirrors Kiedis' ping-pong minimalist poetry. Yeah, poetry — these lyrics wouldn't be out of place in a chapbook, with each couplet painting a tiny neon-drenched scene. Kiedis hands you the Viewmaster to show you a story in images, *click* (steak knife) *click* (con job). Lots of songs try to capture that feeling of love while forgetting the painful yearning and desperation that comes with it…but those songs are not "By The Way."
"Dosed" (2002)
Deeply sad and deceptively simple, there's a lot going on under the surface of this shimmering jewel-like ballad. While being "dosed" isn't ever a, uh, good thing, Kiedis somehow turns it into a metaphor for love. The lyrics and the delivery are a quiet, desperate plea, the exhausted words of someone who has given up ("Take it away / I never had it anyway"). And the chorus, grand and, yes, filled with delicious harmonies, amplifies the sense of tragedy ("Way up on the mountain where she died"). Frusciante has a tendency to push himself to greater heights with every song, and this is arguably one of the peaks, with four different guitar parts layered into one sparkling waterfall. Equal parts sunshine and sadness, his riffs hover over the song like a marine layer coming in off the Pacific.
"Can't Stop" (2002)
If you needed a single phrase to describe this band, "Can't Stop" would fit the bill. Addicted to the shindig for nearly 40 years, this pack of AARP qualifiers gets stronger with age — and this song is proof. It would take a heart of steel to resist its jangly jet-pack-power, filled with the crunchiest of bounces, the snapshottiest of lyrics, the loosey-goosiest of chords, backed up with crisp hand-claps and a touch of, er, ska? Yes, and why the hell not? The chorus rises and sparkles like the 4th of July, the bass rolls and flows, and the lyrics sound like the soundtrack to Hop On Pop Two: The Hoppening. The energetic alchemy these guys manage to brew still sounds like nothing else, testament to the fact that the Chilis practice what they preach: "this life is more than just a read-through." Amen, brothers.
"Snow (Hey Oh)" (2006)
2006's Stadium Arcadium was a double-album when double-albums weren't really a thing. No matter, the band had a lot to say, and the success of Californication gave them the freedom and capital to make it happen. Though some may call it excessive, others celebrated it (why put a limit on creative expression?).
"Snow (Hey Oh)" is built around Frusciante's genius riff (it seems impossible for him to create anything but), a complex, looping, almost Flamenco-style melody. The rest of the band circles around it, like seabirds clipping the ocean. Paired with an especially angelic set of Frusciante/Kiedis harmonies, the effect is a different kind of earworm. And as usual, the band cannot resist experimentation, in this case closing vocals that veer surprisingly into Danzig (!) territory.
"Dani California" (2006)
From Rhiannon to Roxanne, from Billie Jean to Jolene, the fictional females of song are a gorgeously mysterious bunch…and Dani California fits right in. Rebel, runner, stunner, her story is a 4-minute mini-movie with a sad ending. But the song is more than a cinematic, road-trippy Bonnie-without-Clyde story, it's got a secret weapon: the chorus that ate Los Angeles. Thank Frusciante's Sabbath-inspired wizardry (double guitar tracks, epic distortion) for its freakish power, paired with Kiedis' running start, a blip behind the beat. Adding these elements to an epic lyrical shift — mourning Dani/the entire Golden State (rest in peace) — results in a sweeping epitaph you can feel in the pit of your stomach.
"These Are The Ways" (2022)
Unlimited Love has only been out for a short time, so it's not as easy to gauge; a record as rich as this needs a few road trips, midnight walks, and at least one load of dishes worth of listening time to really suss things out. This, plus the fact that there are so many great tracks ("The Great Apes," "Aquatic Mouth Dance") makes choosing one an especially hard choice. But putting all that aside, this song is a beaut. More standard than their previous stuff, "These Are The Ways" shows them in straight-forward rock mode — and rock it does.
With a buncha fat chords pushed up front in the mix, this sounds like a '90s stoner rock record (Monster Magnet, you in there?) braided with an '80s punk single and a '70s rock sing-along about, yup, America. "Make a fist," it begins — are we about to give blood, or is our brother teaching us to fight? (There is no wrong answer.) True to their MTV roots, a brilliant, ridiculously fun music video takes us along on a cinematic night romp through LA's outer edges, an extended cops-n-robbers parkour chase with hits of humor, vibrancy, power…and, this being the Chili Peppers, love.
Related content:
