Red Hot Chili Peppers, one of my favourite bands for over thirty years, “Fight like a brave” had opened my ears and eyes, “Give it away” had made my jaw drop. I’d seen them twice before, first time was amazing, life affirming but the second time though still very good, at the same time slightly disappointing in comparison. This gig was being held in Spurs football stadium and I didn’t really think about it having decided stadium rock wasn’t really my thing and the bands best days were behind them, weren’t they? The tickets were a surprise, heart tugging gift from a family member who remembered my affinity for this band, I didn’t find out until a few weeks before and all of a sudden I had something to look forward to.
But there’s a slight downside. For me getting to a gig in
London requires a bit of planning to avoid quite a lot of stressful driving on
alien roads. Best bet is to drive to
somewhere on the edge of the jungle and get some kind of train in, but
where? After careful deliberation I
chose Cheshunt on this occasion and it was all pretty simple in then end. Then
there was another hurdle to overcome. E-tickets,
which for a technophobe are a nightmare and a source of great stress but I
eventually managed to sort it out.
Tickets on my phone, really? it’s
just over complicating things in the name of simplicity, what’s wrong with a
couple of strips of thin card?
I can’t ever recall visiting Tottenham
before and what an absolute shit hole it is.
An environment that screams desperation surrounds a massive state of the
art football edifice, how many that live in its shadow can afford to watch a
match let alone see a band successful enough to fill it. Yup I’m a lucky
boy. The bloody E-tickets hindered our
entry but the steward was patient and it was only when we were safely climbing
the steps did I finally trust the bloody things. Inside the stadium it’s all clean and
efficient, nothing like the football grounds I visited in the last century even
post Hillsborough. Out onto the pitch,
surrounded by enormous high stands yet somehow it still seems smaller than it
should, as did Wembley as I recall whereas Lords seems bigger.
Usually time stops still when you are waiting for a band
that are still a couple of hours away but not so tonight. The support bands helped. ‘King Princess’, decent pop rock but I don’t
know if they are a band or is it all about the young American girl who was
singing? Either way they were okay but
had nothing to set them apart from very many other bands who have tried to do
the same thing. Next was a collective
called ‘Roots’, I suppose I’d describe it as hip hop with a big funky band
providing the soundtrack which occasionally included homages to a few old
classics. But they murdered “Move on up”
to the extent the Princess hadn’t realised they’d tried to play it, this is simply
unforgivable. The rhythms were good
though and the music was moving me but whenever the fella rapped it swamped the
sound and the band diminished.
So the Chili Peppers, by now only minutes away…It would be good for sure but good enough to make me forget the tribulations getting here had involved? How many times can a band go round the world, filling stadiums everywhere but still be inspired to play their hearts out? I’ve seen old favourite bands that could barely hide the fact that they were going through the motions. Could the Chili’s bring life, love and rhythms to this giant concrete bowl? Then the music started and all of that shite was forgotten in a second.
As usual they began with a jam - drums, bass and guitar,
tight with band members smiling then bang “Can’t stop addicted to the shin
dig…” the perfect start. Pause –
strum, “Scar tissue that I wish you saw…” just beautiful! Take a breath “deep inside the cover of
another perfect wonder…” I have
tears of joy running down my cheeks. Past
their best? Are they fuck!
It didn’t stop all night.
Three masterful musicians that separate a tune so you can hear each
instrument on its own right then bring them back together into a funky punky
rock rhythm. A front man with prowling
presence who has a voice that fits and the audience in his palm. Add to this a thirty five year back catalogue
of tunes that have sound tracked my adult life.
And yes RHCP do still care! They
played with passion and the screens showed the smiles between them as they did
so. The Chilis usually play a different
set every night of the tour so you never know what you’re going to get. Tonight the stars aligned, it was as if I had
chosen the set list myself, it couldn’t have been better. And tonight
it was as if they’d plugged the instruments into my body. What was so different tonight compared to
Birmingham NEC a few years ago? Maybe
the tickets, being on the floor not up in the Gods played its part. Maybe the music suits the venue itself, the memorable
first time I saw them was also in a football stadium. But maybe it was because
the iconic guitarist was back. I know
nothing of the technical aspects of playing a guitar but I know that in almost
forty years of gigging, no guitarist has ever moved me as much as John
Frusciante did on 21st July 2023, this was his show, he was just
brilliant.
Towards the end of the set one of several between song jams
ceased, then a second later a familiar guitar chord “Psychic spies from
China try to steal your mind’s elation…” with the crowd singing every word,
(actually this was the loudest crowd I’ve ever been part of). Final track was a
monster hit “Standing in line to see the show tonight…” then they left
the stage so we could get our breath back.
The encore was predictable but exactly what we needed, “under the
bridge down town, is where I drew some blood…” had us singing and swaying, then
a leap back up into punky spitting musical anarchy “What I got I gotta give
it to yer mumma…”
The lights came on and dazzled us, we tramped stiff armed to
the exits caught in a human glacier up the steps down the steps and all the way
to the station. Goodbye Tottenham, I
won’t be rushing back to rediscover your charms and I’m still not won over by
massive gigs but for ninety minutes we forgot where we were and it had been
worth it. What a fucking gig!! This was next level, all time top ten,
fucking wonderful glorious, emotional and beautiful. It carried me all the way home unhindered by a
closed road when I needed it least and through a disappointing rainy weekend
when there was hardly any cricket.
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