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Blood Sugar Sex Magik (1991)

Blood Sugar Sex Magik (1991)

Blood Sugar Sex Magik (1991)

Blood Sugar Sex Magik is a 1991 alternative rock album by Red Hot Chili Peppers.

Loose, sweaty and stranger than its reputation, the Chili Peppers' fifth album swaps the heavy metal riffing of Mother's Milk (1989) for space and actual songs. [[person:rick-rubin]] produced, and his instinct ran toward subtraction: Flea's bass sits forward and dry, Chad Smith drags behind the beat, and [[person:john-frusciante]] answers with thin, ringing guitar figures instead of distortion. The band moved into a rented Los Angeles mansion and cut the record while living in it.

Two singles carried it to the rest of the world. “Give It Away” is a chant over a one note bass hook, close to nothing on paper and hard to sit still through. “Under the Bridge” has [[person:anthony-kiedis]] writing about being alone in Los Angeles with a habit, sung with almost no swagger left in him. Around those two sit the acoustic waltz of “Breaking the Girl”, the smirking funk metal of “Suck My Kiss”, and the slow leer of “Sir Psycho Sexy”, where the lust, the drugs and the gallows jokes pile up at once.

This is the record that moved a cult funk band off the Los Angeles club circuit and into stadiums, and the last studio album Frusciante finished with them before he walked away in 1992. Start here if you want funk rock played with a real ear for tune, or if you know the two hits and have never sat with the other fifteen tracks.

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A few thoughts on Blood Sugar Sex Magik

Pair it with Boogie Nights for the same Los Angeles: sun, skin, cheap euphoria and a comedown waiting at the end of the reel. The documentary Dogtown and Z-Boys covers the skate and surf culture the band grew out of, and its footage moves at the tempo Flea plays at. For the quiet half of the album, read Ask the Dust, John Fante's novel about a broke young man in love with a city that has no use for him, which lands near the emotional address of “Under the Bridge”. On a console, Jet Set Radio Future runs on the same fuel: funk, graffiti, momentum, no plot worth explaining. Kiedis's memoir Scar Tissue fills in the addiction and the grief the lyrics only gesture at.