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Kick Out the Jams

Red Hot Chili Peppers at the Joint, Dec. 30

The night before New Year's Eve could have been a chance to reflect on the constant passage of precious time; out with the old, in with the new, and everyone gets older. Except for Flea, for he is ageless. What other thirtysomething would still play bass in those big tighty-whities, complemented by day-glo orange shoes?

Time has passed for the Red Hot Chili Peppers. No longer are they the punk funkers on the cutting edge of rock 'n' roll. As has been well documented on VH1, the Californicators are now a bunch of rehabbed mellow rockers whose musical relevance is dependent on which critic's bullshit you're reading. Up on the balcony in the Joint on the night before New Year's Eve, there were two critics willing to voice their opinions: Chris from Austin and Drunk Guy With an Ugly Girlfriend.

Although the Chilis took the stage 45 minutes after they were supposed to, Chris from Austin maintained his tolerance. He'd seen them before (although he'd never paid $150 to barely see them before) and he was eager to find out how Anthony Kiedis' notoriously out-of-key throat would be functioning. Turns out Kiedis went a full hour before a couple of notes went sour, and even then he was well covered by his mates: Chad Smith fully enjoyed his own drumming, Flea thrashed about like he did 15 years ago and John Frusciante proved why he is the most underrated rock guitarist ever.

The band opened with the title track from its newest, most melodic release, By the Way, and stuck to the newer stuff along with some highlights from Blood Sugar Sex Magik and Californication. This upset Drunk Guy With an Ugly Girlfriend, who noted that he saw the Chilis at Lollapalooza (way to totally date yourself, you old bastard) and while they are still "bad ass," they have become "too commercial."

But as the band reeled off hit after hit with rollicking improvisation, Chris from Austin's earlier observation rang true: "These guys are one of those bands like U2 that just has its audience by the fucking balls."--Brock Radke