From "Bass
Player Online"
He can't take it. Flea, red-hot bassist
for the Chili Peppers, is in desperate need of a fix.
After 27 hours on an airplane, it seems the Guru of Groove
is having big-time bass withdrawal. "Sorry, man-I just
got to Australia and I haven't played yet," he says. Flea
grabs his Alembic Epic and thwacks a few funky notes to
curb his urges. The animated bassist is chilling out at
"Cuttlefish Castle," his sprawling beach-front retreat
in the wilds of New South Wales. Like its owner, the home's
decor is, well, unique: bright red, green, blue, and brown
walls surround elegant wooden floors, while a copper,
brass, and wrought-iron spiral staircase ascends upward
from the middle of the ocean-view room. Out back, a basketball
court sits dormant at the foot of a dense forest. "This
is a great place to hang out," says Flea. "I just wish
it weren't so far away." With the bass still in his lap,
Flea makes a jaw-dropping statement: "I'd be surprised
if bass players are into our new record," he says. He
ponders the remark for a second and adds, "One Hot Minute
is just a bunch of rock songs. They're great, but I think
someone who reads Bass Player would be much more into
a guy like Michael Manring." Don't let Flea's humbleness
fool you. Judging by the fact that BP readers have named
him Best Funk Bassist for three years in a row-and that
he's always been in the top ten in the voting for Bassist
Of The Year-it appears he's still connecting. Few have
inspired more post-P-Funk bass grooves than Flea, and
his band's latest funk/chunk offering should send many
more young thumbs into overdrive. Produced by Rick Rubin,
One Hot Minute is the follow-up to the band's multi-platinum
smash Blood Sugar Sex Magik. No other Chili Peppers record
has displayed more dimension or emotion than this one,
which was written in Hawaii and recorded in Los Angeles.
The addition of ex-Jane's Addiction axeslinger Dave Navarro,
who replaces John Frusciante, has something to do with
it: he brings a heavier, more textured guitar style to
the Peppers' party-but it's Flea's bass that guides the
project. His parts are as streamlined as the ones on Blood
Sugar but also display a newfound melodic depth and powerful
presence. The lofty float of "Aeroplane" (see page 45),
the smooth stride of "Walkabout," and the wiry bass solo
on "Coffee Shop" illustrate Flea's commanding-yet-essential
approach. At 33, he's grown beyond the psycho-slap style
that made him legendary among 4-string funkateers, and
he now insists the song is his #1 priority. "I've put
less emphasis on the bass," he says. "I'm trying to improve
as a songwriter as well." During a two-week break from
the band's grueling tour schedule, the "bassopotamus"
took some time to explain why he's fallen back in love
with his instrument after recording six albums, how not
to be a player who's "all flash and no smash," and why
practicing Transcendental Meditation has helped him to
become a better musician. Flea... meditating? Compared
to the full-bore thumbwork of early Chili Peppers records,
your parts on Blood Sugar Sex Magik showcased a more stripped-down,
rudimentary approach. On One Hot Minute, did you try to
combine elements of both? Not on a conscious level. I
was trying to play simply on Blood Sugar because I had
been playing too much prior to that, so I thought, I've
really got to chill out and play half as many notes. When
you play less, it's more exciting-there's more room for
everything. If I do play something busy, it stands out,
instead of the bass being a constant onslaught of notes.
Space is good. I think my playing on One Hot Minute is
even more simple; I just wanted to play shit that sounded
good. I thrashed through the recording and didn't care
about the parts being perfect. It's not that I don't love
the bass passionately anymore-I just felt I'd been getting
too many accolades for being "Joe Bass Player." So the
simpler approach is a reaction to all the recognition
you've received? That, plus the whole concept of being
a jack-off musician and not thinking about the big picture.
I do consider myself fortunate to have achieved popularity
as a bassist, but I felt there was too much emphasis being
placed on playing technique, as opposed to just playing
music. So before we recorded this album, I spent more
time strumming an acoustic guitar than I did playing bass.
To me, my bass parts are more incidental to the song now,
because I'm thinking less as a bass player and more as
a songwriter. Some might argue that this record is one
of your stronger bass efforts. Really? Maybe not thinking
about it made me play better. I definitely left lots of
mistakes on there, and I can't even think of anything
I played that was complex; even the slapping stuff is
simple. It's original-sounding, and I'm proud of that-but
what I played was more a matter of aesthetic choice. On
the other hand, I guess "Giant Steps" was simple to [saxophonist]
John Coltrane, because it was him playing it. It's easy
if you can do it! [Laughs.] Overall, how do you think
One Hot Minute differs from Blood Sugar Sex Magik? There
are two big differences. First, I was in a different place
emotionally for this record. I was coming out of a two-year
period of misery, when I was down emotionally, physically,
and spiritually. Second, Dave Navarro is intensely different
from John Frusciante. When we recorded Blood Sugar, John
played all his tracks once and maybe overdubbed a few
solos, so the whole record was very spontaneous. Dave
is really into the studio; he would spend weeks on every
song, put something like 15 tracks of guitar on every
tune, and weed through it in the mix. Dave's sound is
more layered and "effecty" than John's, which was like,
boom-play it dry and leave it alone. Also, Dave and I
are very different musically. He'll often play some '70s
rock song, and most of the time I don't even know who
did it, but I'll start playing along-and to me it's ridiculous.
But our differences create our music. So the contrast
between your styles created the album's textured sound?
The contrast made a big difference. John was a huge fan
of the band when he joined, so it wasn't a big change
for us. He did come into his own aesthetic as time went
on, and he had a huge amount to do with the sound of the
band, but Dave's coming from his own trip-the Jane's Addiction
thing in particular, which was very different from the
Chili Peppers. Did adjusting to yet another guitar player
affect the feel? It had its ups and downs. We were playing
something new, and it was exciting-but on the negative
side, we'd never toured together. The record is what it
is, though: a document of that time. It has good energy,
the grooves are good, and the music is good; I'm happy
with the way I played, but I'm already onto another groove.
The band's jams seem to be stretching out into new areas.
To me, this is the least jam-oriented record we've made.
I mean, we definitely jammed on the ideas, but there's
only one groove on the whole album that came from a jam,
"Deep Kick." The rest of it came from my sitting down
with a guitar or bass and saying, "Check this out, guys."
I wrote almost all of the music on the record. So you've
expanded beyond writing only grooves? I've always had
a major hand in writing, but on some of the One Hot Minute
songs, I wrote the chords and the melody and most of the
words. I wrote a lot of the lyrics on "Deep Kick" and
"Transcending," for example. Did you put the songs together
on a 4-track? I've got one, but mostly I'd play acoustic
guitar and come up with the chords and melody, and Dave
would take my simple guitar part and play it in his magical
Navarro way. Or, I would have a bass line, and Dave would
think of a guitar part to go with it. When did you start
learning to play guitar? I started a couple of months
before we began making this record. Rick Rubin gave me
a Martin acoustic, and I bought a Neil Young songbook
to learn chords. Playing guitar has definitely helped
me as a songwriter; instead of thinking in terms of bass
lines and grooves, which is an amazing way to think, I
now think about chord progressions and melodies. It's
another musical dimension for me. Do you think bass players
make good songwriters because they think of the groove
instead of just chords? A good songwriter is someone who
has something interesting to say, period. I've heard great
songs from people who could barely string together a couple
of chords, and I've heard shitty music come from world-renowned
virtuosos. Obviously, more good music comes out of good
musicians-but I think being a good songwriter requires
being in touch with all the emotions and stuff that are
flying through the air around you. What's your opinion
of the role of the bass? It's difficult to generalize,
but I like hearing the bass when it's really locking in
with the drums. I like it simple. I like it when it makes
you want to fuck-that warm, good feeling. Very seldom
do I enjoy bass playing that takes center stage; even
on a funk song where the bass is the focus, such as Funkadelic's
"(Not Just) Knee Deep" [Uncle Jam Wants You, Priority],
it's just a funky groove-it's not "Look at me." Plenty
of bass players have fancy chops, but they don't make
you feel any emotions. You don't feel anger, fear, or
love. That's what I call "all flash and no smash," a phrase
I got from Lonnie Marshall of the band Weapon Of Choice.
Lonnie's one of the funkiest bass players alive today-I've
totally copped stuff off him. So what's your function
as the Chili Peppers bassist? My position goes beyond
that of just a bass player; I also consider myself an
entertainer. As a bassist, my job is to kick ass. When
I pick up my bass and play with the band, it's time to
get serious. It's my job to give my all every time I play,
no matter how I feel. But I also buy into the show-biz
aesthetic of giving a dazzling performance, and I'm into
putting on a show. Does the entertainer side of your job
ever interfere with the bass-playing side? No. Standing
in one place and playing isn't what the Red Hot Chili
Peppers are about-it's about being the wildest rock band
on earth. People buy tickets to see us play, and I'm into
entertaining them. I think as much about dancing and being
bizarre as I do about playing well. I'm not saying that
to do a good show you have to jump around and do an avant-garde
dance while spinning on your head-but no one would have
liked Charlie Chaplin if he hadn't fallen on his face
every once in a while! [Laughs.] Does the punk-rock concept
of "play every note like it's your last" still apply to
what you do? Definitely. Punk rock changed my life. As
for punk rock music, though, I don't think it exists anymore.
So you wouldn't categorize bands such as Green Day punk?
No. I like Green Day, but they're more like an oldies
pop band. Punk-rock music ended with the Germs, but punk
rock as an attitude hasn't. That means spitting in the
face of convention and doing your own thing that's "anti"-anti
the bloated, corporate, boring, heard-it-a-billion-times-before
bullshit. The bands that did it well were playing some
of the most innovative, exciting music of their time-but
now, it's about playing fun music and having a good time.
That's cool, but it's not punk. You've said that most
of your influences tend to be more emotional than technical.
Are there any incidents besides experiencing punk rock
that had a big impact on you? Seeing my stepdad play upright
bass in our living room when I was eight had a huge influence
on me. I'd watch him and his friends play hardcore bebop,
which to me is one of the highest forms of expression-intellectually,
emotionally, spiritually, and technically; America has
come up with nothing better than bebop. Seeing them play
filled me with this incredible feeling of joy I'd never
experienced before. Meeting [Chili Peppers singer] Anthony
Kiedis in high school had a lot to do with how I ended
up as a musician. He was the first kid I met who didn't
give a shit about being like anybody else. The way he
talked, the way he dressed, and the way he acted had a
big influence on me. He was so anti; he thought anyone
who tried to be like anyone else was lame. Also, taking
acid was a big thing for me as a youngster. I don't recommend
drugs to anyone, but I can't deny that I did them. Anthony
and I would sit and listen to Eric Dolphy play "God Bless
the Child" [Here & There, Prestige] on the bass clarinet
over and over again, for about five hours! How could I
not be deeply affected by that? I couldn't believe a human
being was making that noise! There's nothing more amazing
than a human creating that energy through an instrument;
I've never reached that level, because I'm just not studied
enough in music to do something as amazing as Eric Dolphy
did. The thing that's changed me even more recently is
having realized the importance of becoming a loving person:
someone who thinks, What can I give? rather than, What
am I going to get? Has that developed from being a father?
Being a dad is definitely part of it. It also comes from
becoming a more aware person. I was stoned every day of
my life for 15 years, which I don't regret. I've done
a lot of shitty things to myself, but everything's for
a reason-so if I can be more aware of what's going on
around me, then I'm going to be a better person and a
better musician. Now, I meditate every day. It means so
much to sit and be quiet. I just feel what's going on
inside myself, and it's helped me to be more in touch
with my feelings-with my purest level of expression. It
also helps me to remove the blocks between my heart and
my brain so I'm able to express myself and not be worried
about some stupid bullshit. Right now, I'm very eager
to learn; I haven't had that feeling for quite a while.
I've had that hunger for music as a whole, but not for
the bass as an instrument. After we play a gig nowadays,
I go back to my hotel room and play even more. I'm trying
to figure out new sounds and get my hands and mind to
be coordinated in a beautiful, flowing way. My dynamic
has changed-I really want to improve as a bass player.
What have you been practicing? I'm jamming on grooves
and bass lines and trying to find new ones. Also, I'm
going to start learning stuff off records to get new perspectives,
which is something I've rarely done. I've always played
by improvising with myself. Are you working on learning
any theory? No, but I need to. A friend of mine, a great
upright bassist named Hilliard Green, was talking to me
about theory. The way he explains it, there are certain
things very easily within my grasp; I just need to spend
some time to figure them out. My music is based mostly
on intuition and instinct, but I could go further with
a better understanding of theory. Since you trust your
instincts, are you afraid of being affected negatively
by learning theory? No-I'm a punk rocker, so it can't
hurt me! [Laughs.] I'd love to walk into a room and be
able to play with [saxophonist] Wayne Shorter and [pianist]
McCoy Tyner-that would be beautiful. I feel I could play
well in any rock, reggae, funk, or African band in the
world, but jazz ... that's intense! I feel jazz, but I
just don't know enough about theory to play it. There
are a bunch of different styles mixed together in the
bass line of "Aeroplane." How did you come up with the
slap part in the verses? I was sitting in my garage with
a bass Louis Johnson gave me-a Treker Louis Johnson Signature
4-string-and I started playing that '70s funk line. The
bass had light strings on it and had that whacka-whackita
sound. It's kind of a "been done" groove, but it's nice
and Anthony liked it. The chorus part was one of those
things where we were stuck; sometimes when we're looking
for another part, I'll have no idea what I'm going to
do, but I'll say, "What about this?" I went [mimics zooming
sound up neck]; it's all sliding on the E string. [Ed.
Note: See page 45 for more on the song.] Actually, "Aeroplane"
was the only song I was worried about-I thought it sounded
like another stupid white boy trying to be funky! [Laughs.]
I put it out anyway, but it's the one thing I'd go back
and fix. When I played it live in the studio with the
band, the bass didn't record right for some reason, so
it was one of the few things I had to overdub. The part
kept feeling stiff to me, as if it wasn't my day; I wasn't
flowing with the drums. I wanted to redo it, but Rick
said, "It's cool." "Coffee Shop" is chock full of bass
stuff, including a solo. It's funny-"Coffee Shop" would
never have been a song if it weren't for this effect called
the [Electro-Harmonix] BassBalls. [Ed. Note: For more
about the BassBalls, see "Clearance Classics" in the July/Aug
'95 Product Profiles.] I started playing with it one morning
in Hawaii, and it had the most amazing underwater, Bootsy
kind of sound-and it also had this siren effect going
on. But when we got to L.A. to start recording, the box
never made the sound again. I got so mad, I crushed it!
I almost didn't even want to record the song, because
to me, it was all about that bass sound. I ended up using
a Boss Dynamic Filter on the record. In the solo, it sounds
as if you're ripping the strings off the fingerboard.
We didn't know what to do at the end, so I said, "I'll
solo." I played the track once, and I wanted to fix it
later because I thought it sucked, but I never did. "Pea,"
your bass-and-vocals solo piece, features an acoustic
bass guitar. Yeah-it's a Sigma acoustic. There's not much
to say about "Pea." I mean, it's just a song I wrote.
Are you catching any flack for it? Because I say, "Homophobic
redneck dick"? I did get some shit for it, but fuck those
people! We had to put out a version of the album for Wal-Mart
without that song. Did that upset you at all? No. I mean,
if someone says, "I'm not going to buy your record, but
I'll buy these songs," then okay-buy those songs. I'd
rather they hear it all, but to hell with my ego. The
ending of "One Big Mob" has a heavy feel. That song was
actually part of a 12-minute movement. The end was the
intro to another song called "Stretch You Out," which
is more of a funk thing, but we didn't put it on the record.
It's too bad, because bass players would probably like
that tune more than any other song on the album. I think
we'll put it out as a B-side. "Walkabout" is built around
the bass, especially the verses. I had gone to see the
Spike Lee movie Crooklyn, which has this cool '70s funk
soundtrack. I came home, picked up my bass, and started
playing that verse line. I wrote the intro at rehearsal-it
was another one of those "What about this?" things. "Transcending"
centers around a twisted b7 bass riff. I play the root
and the b7, which ring at the same time, and then I play
the 4th and bend it up while I keep plucking. I wrote
that part on my acoustic bass guitar while I was sitting
on the beach in Hawaii, before I decided we should all
write there. Did you use an Ernie Ball Music Man StingRay
on the album? I may have played a StingRay on "Aeroplane,"
but I used an Alembic for most of the record. [Ed. Note:
According to Alembic, Flea's bass is a stock Epic 4-string
with a mahogany body, flame-maple top, and a three-piece
maple neck with an ebony fingerboard.] Did the Alembic
make you play differently than the Music Man? Maybe. It
was the bass I had in the studio, so I was like, "Let's
record, let's rock." The Alembic isn't as in-my-face as
the Music Man, but the high notes are as loud as the low
ones, from the bottom of the neck to the top, which is
a problem on the Music Man. I probably could have used
the StingRay for the entire album, but when we go to record,
I always think I need the best bass for recording. Did
you use your G-K amp and MESA/Boogie speakers? Yeah-an
800RB head with a MESA/Boogie 2x15; I like the way they
sound together. I'm not picky when it comes to equipment,
but I like it to sound good and to work right. I've tried
a bunch of different stuff, but I haven't found anything
else as good. How did you get that ultra-slimy sound on
"Falling Into Grace"? It's the BassBalls, the Boss Dynamic
Filter, and maybe a Boss Auto Wah, too. I had all three
hooked up, but I may have used only two of them. You also
played on Alanis Morissette's "You Oughta Know" [Jagged
Little Pill]. How did you come up with that funky fingerstyle
line? It was very instinctive-I showed up, rocked out,
and split. When I first heard the track, it had a different
bassist and guitarist on it; I listened to the bass line
and thought, That's some weak shit! [Laughs.] It was no
flash and no smash! But the vocal was strong, so I just
tried to play something good. Was the Alanis cut the most
successful side project you've done? I also played on
"Bust a Move" by Young M.C. [Stone Cold Rhymin'], which
was a #1 hit. I have a bitter taste in my mouth about
that, though, because I feel as though I got ripped off.
The bass line I wrote ended up being a major melody of
the tune, and I felt I deserved songwriting credit and
money because it was a #1 hit. They sold millions of records,
and I got $200! Afterwards, my lawyer told them, "You
should throw down Flea some cash," but the record company
said, "We told him exactly what to play." No one was even
in the room at the time but me and the engineer! It was
ridiculous, but I learned from it. Have you played on
any other records? Not that many, but probably my favorite
is an album by Cheikha Rimitti called Sidi Mansour. She
sings so beautifully. It's rhyme and traditional North
African music mixed with me on bass, Robert Fripp on guitar,
and the Dead Kennedys' East Bay Ray on guitar. The songs
are kind of tribalish grooves, and I'm playing funky bass
over percussion and microtonal flute. Have you ever considered
doing a solo disc? Yes, but it won't be a solo-bass record;
the bass will just play the bass lines in the songs. I'm
not saying the melody can't be featured on the bass, but
I think if a song is about the bass guitar, it'll revolve
around a beautiful line with things layered on top of
it-kind of a sexy dub type of thing. I'm also going to
make a record with my friend John Lurie, who's the sax
player from the Lounge Lizards. Has your daughter shown
any interest in music? Clara's already a great drummer.
I realized it for the first time while we were in London
recently; she's six years old, and she got up behind the
drum set and started playing boom, pop, boom boom, pop,
and I was like, Where did that come from? I started playing
along with her [sings funky bass line], and she was right
on the groove! I have a drum kit at home, but now I might
get her a little set of her own. What advice would you
offer to Clara about playing music? My only advice is
to do whatever you want as long as you don't hurt yourself
or anybody else. I would hope she would have the love
and self-esteem to make her craft interesting and do something
beautiful. In general, I believe that if you don't really
love what you're doing, you should stop right away-and
if you do truly want to play, then you should play your
own way and play what makes you feel good. Try to recognize
the parts of your character that are your own, because
a lot of people do things they think other people will
like instead of embracing what they love. Do that on your
instrument-play something you like, not something you'd
do for someone else. That's what makes great music. My
best advice for someone who wants to play music, though,
is this: Pretend music is a big Mona Lisa, and paint a
mustache on it!