Red Hot Chili Peppers: I'm with You (2011)

(Warner Bros.)

RECOMMENDED

I don't know how wholehearted that recommendation for this album is because for one thing, it's marked by some level of cultish bias in the sense that I like the way this band sounds to me and you likely don't, and as much as it improves on this seminal and unfairly drubbed California pop band's prior album, the overlong Stadium Arcadium, it is a fat and happy group stagnating. But it is also one of the most purely fun and at times affecting records out this year, so much more enjoyable and consistent than Tomboy or Helplessness Blues or Bon Iver. From the thrusting disco and persuasively joyous melody on "Monarchy of Roses" through the ridiculous piano trills and pop beltalong of "Happiness Loves Company" to the mumbling balladry of "Meet Me at the Corner," it sounds just the way one would hope. There's not a lot to say about it, except that it's a bit of a minor miracle. The Peppers would've been spent by the close of the '90s if not for a creative injection provided by returning guiarist John Frusciante, who helped them through a commercial reemergence with the strong Californication and then guided their artistic zenith, the still-stunning By the Way. It seemed that without Frusciante, a gifted and fascinating musician, the Peppers would just be technically proficient old men with little zeal.

Much to my delight, that isn't the case; RHCP unexpectedly bring it here, and though I'm with You offers nothing as distinct as their three '90s albums at their best, it is second only to By the Way in its careful, emotional sustaining of mood -- and of course, in charm. It's a kick to hear everyone giving their all here. Anthony Kiedis' lyrics may still be sophomoric and tired but he is also one of the most passionate singers mainstream rock's ever offered, rendering his banalities trustworthy if hardly worth pondering. Flea and Chad Smith have continued to adapt their hand-me-down funk rhythm section heroics to increasingly conventional pop-rock, almost soft rock, environments; the mellowing suits them, Rick Rubin's adult contemporary sheen allowing them the freedom to sound like the middle-aged rock & rollers they are. But special mention has to be made for new guitarist Josh Klinghoffer, who blends in seamlessly and gives an injection of vibrant youth that is in large part what makes the record, particularly its second half, so endearing. And as Brent DiCrecenzo (one of the few major rock writers with the balls to take the Peppers seriously) has pointed out, the femininity of Klinghoffer's backing vocals changes the entire dynamic of the band's songs. I hope they're using him liberally in live rearrangements of their older material. The presence is strongest on the slow ones, the adult easy listening of "Did I Let You Know" overflowing with comfort and feeling. I didn't think I would ever say this again, but hey, why not. Long live the Red Hot Chili Peppers.