Editor’s note: Arachnophonia is a regular feature on our blog where members of the UR community can share their thoughts about resources from the Parsons Music Library‘s collection.

Today’s installment of Arachnophonia is by student worker Elias (class of 2021) and features the Red Hot Chili Peppers‘ 2006 double album, Stadium Arcadium . Thanks, Elias!

Red Hot Chili Peppers

Stadium Arcadium

The Red Hot Chili Peppers are the most successful alternative rock group of all time. Typically, you’d expect a band to reduce themselves to the lowest common denominator to find success en masse, but the Peppers managed to climb to the top while staying as perfectly weird and beautifully musical as ever. The key behind their success, of course, lies with the band members — and though their lineup has changed a handful of times over the years, there’s no doubt about the definitive Chili Peppers crew. Anthony Kiedis and Flea have been there since the beginning as the lifeblood of the group. Kiedis acts as both the face and voice of the group, and though neither his singing nor his lyricism has ever left me in awe, he remains consistent and passionate in every performance he gives. Flea, of course, is one of the best bassists of all time, and is allowed by the band to shine more so than in almost any other group. Chad Smith, as the definitive drummer, acts as the backbone of the group—and famously resembles Will Ferrell.

LOS ANGELES, CA – NOVEMBER 04: (L-R) Recording artists Flea, Anthony Kiedis and Chad Smith of the Red Hot Chili Peppers attend a signing for their book “The Red Hot Chili Peppers” at Barnes & Noble at The Grove on November 4, 2010 in Los Angeles, California. (Photo by David Livingston/Getty Images)

And then, as the final member of the definitive loadout, there’s John Frusciante. Over the years, Frusciante came and left the group due to bouts with drug addiction and mental illness, eventually parting with the band for good in 2009. To an onlooker, he looks just like any other skilled guitarist, but to the Chili Peppers, he was the brains. His talents as a songwriter were unparalleled in the group, and he excelled at writing songs that succeeded in three parts: they allowed everyone in the group to shine, they appealed to a massive audience, and they sounded uniquely phenomenal. While he wrote many incredible songs during his tenure with the band, there is no better example than his final album with the Peppers: Stadium Arcadium.

The Chili Peppers circa 2006 – L-R John Frusciante, Chad Smith, Anthony Kiedis, and Flea

In many ways, Stadium Arcadium is the group’s magnum opus. It’s their longest record, with an astonishing 28 tracks and over 2 hours of run time — but has enough raw content to keep you hooked throughout. It was their first album to debut at number one, marking the group officially as the behemoth they had become. And finally, it brought the band back in touch with their funk roots, combining with their newfound mastery of rock to create, in my opinion, their best work. Across the record, the band stays strong but varied. We ease into things with a song that would top the rock charts for weeks and pick up 2 Grammys along the way: “Dani California.” It’s a very on-brand song for the group—a nice, groovy start with Flea and Frusciante battling for the melody, Smith keeping things moving with a punchy beat, and Kiedis practically rapping over the other members. Finally, Kiedis breaks into song, moving into a grungy, distorted chorus. The appeal of RHCP can be seen perfectly here. You only need to hear the chorus once, and you’ll happily be singing along—the words are simple, yet carry a certain amount of emotion and edginess. For teen America, it was a perfect recipe for success. Finally, late in the song, you hear the first of many Frusciante solos — an aspect unique to Stadium Arcadium. Of course, he performed solos in other songs, but the solos on Stadium Arcadium were completely improvised. He doesn’t sacrifice an ounce of quality, but this fact brings another raw layer of authenticity to the album.

They don’t pull any punches with the second track, either. “Snow (Hey Oh)” was the first RHCP song I heard, and is likely the most iconic in my mind to this day. It’s light, intricate, sonically beautiful, and an absolute pain to play on guitar. The rest of the 1st disk (named Jupiter —something Spotify won’t tell you) flows back and forth from funk to finesse, before finally landing on “Wet Sand” and “Hey,” two songs that pull back from the fun, upbeat pace and end things on a somber note. “Wet Sand” dives into the difficulty of loving the dark side of a person jointly with the good, ending finally with a repetitive bridge that provides an analogy to being unable to rely on your loved ones during times of struggle, having to, instead, find strength within. “Hey” is almost the continuation of “Wet Sand,” as it talks of the difficulty—but necessity—of breakups. This eloquent end to an otherwise happy disk serves as a cliffhanger, leaving you ready to jump into the second side — Mars.

The album immediately continues in a somber fashion, with the classic Frusciante anthem “Desecration Smile.” One of my favorite techniques that Frusciante employs (as a guitarist myself) is at the forefront in this song, just as with my favorite Chili Peppers song: “I Could Have Lied” (sadly, not on this album). He combines the acoustic verse with an electric chorus, bringing the song to a crescendo when it most needs it, then calmly returning to a low key verse that juxtaposes the chorus without skipping a beat. The rest of the “Mars” side continues in a similar fashion as “Jupiter,” crescendoing into a funky midsection, but with a much more laid back and melodic aesthetic. It’s almost as if the band wants you to sing and dance your heart out on Jupiter, then collapse and just enjoy the more articulate words and melodies of Mars.

Mars ends beautifully with their first homage to the space theme (though not represented lyrically), “Death of a Martian.” Martian was Flea’s dog, one that the group became infatuated with during practices at Flea’s house. The meaning of the song was a happy surprise to Flea, who remarks on it during the CD commentary. Finally, Kiedis ends with a chanting spoken word—apparently a poem he took a particular liking to. As a message, the final track delivers little, but it’s a perfectly “RHCP” song: one that celebrates both their goofiness and empathy. The Red Hot Chili Peppers are a goofy rock band. But, as perfectly demonstrated on Stadium Arcadium, they are extremely competent at both music and songwriting. They can break out into a distorted, rocky fanfare, and they can wallow in funky baselines, but they have a complex past, but individually and united. On Stadium Arcadium, they pay tribute to both sides. For a farewell album, Frusciante couldn’t have picked better—and the heart he put into the record is at a perfect forefront. It marks the end of an era, but it does so with finesse.