The black asphalt baked by the sun, filthy and tarry, a black blade that sharply cuts the shimmering desert of yellow and red, like madness and passion, where a car silently glides from afar.
A plasticized trail, that's what Californication is reduced to, the wreck of an aged and dazed snake that has changed its skin but can no longer hypnotize with its rattles.
An album to forget, those who knew them in the past or those who really want to understand them would do better to look elsewhere, perhaps among the gigantic and thorny cacti of Mother's Milk, among the wild fiery dunes of Blood Sugar Sex Magik, or among the loved and renounced mirages of One Hot Minute, but in any case, it would be wise to stay in that dusty golden desert, immensely fertile, rich in virtuosity, concentrated energy, which on the glossy road they propose now, cannot even be sniffed, if sniffing a song is allowed.
The note capitalists may have made a fortune, thanks to Scar Tissue, Parallel Universe, Otherside, but such episodes don't even allow the album to be mediocre: the funk is frozen, pre-packaged, almost museum-like, it cannot be touched, not even looked at, impossible to think of listening to it. It borders on the pathetic. Unfortunately, Frusciante's return takes a back seat, the Red Hot's concern is to please and someone will like them.
The great John's return coincides with the artistic rebirth of the Red Hot.
"Road Trippin'" emerges as a true gem, an acoustic track that leaves you speechless and with a feeling of great sadness inside.
Hardly had time begun and the great Flea hits us without warning with the first bass solo, followed by a liberating scream of Anthony and John Frusciante’s guitar and Chad’s drums.
Californication is thus an album that contains some great songs (Around the World, Californication, Savior, Road Trippin’) but alternates with compositions that make you nostalgic for the old days.
"The secret of this success was the return of the great Jack Frusciante to the team."
"A fabulous song, to be listened to endlessly, thinking of being on a Californian beach, with a bonfire, waiting for a midnight swim."