Paying for the Peppers

One of my absolute favourite jokes in The Good Place - and there are a few good ones in there - is that one of the criteria for getting into paradise is that you haven't paid any money to listen to music by the Red Hot Chili Peppers. 

You could still enjoy it, but financially contributing to the group's success was a black mark against your soul. Which was very harsh to the Californian funk rockers - but also fair, and of course I would say that because that's one sin I've managed to avoid. 

I still like a lot of their music when it comes on the radio, or is used in a movie or something. I've never seen them live or bought any of their albums, but I danced badly along to their version of Higher Ground with my teenage mates; and Under the Bridge will always be a banger, under any circumstances; and I have been unexpectedly moved by some of their lyrics - the 'more I like to let it go' part of that Hey Oh song has an idiotic simplicity that cuts through to the soul.

But I wouldn't call myself a fan -  the few times I sampled a full album, it was always a couple of killer tracks and a lot of aimless filler, and I was always more than happy to stick with the many, many tunes coming through a lot of different radios over the years.

My only hot take about the band is that while the focus is usually on that jumping rhythm section and Kiedis' vocals and frontman antics, the only worthwhile Chili Peppers is when John Frusciante is involved, and his light touch on the guitar strings carries a lot of heft.

If I'm going to hell, it'll be for other sins - pride and gluttony have always been issues - but I got plenty of other things to give my money to. I'll still sing along in the car on a road trip as much as anybody, but that's as far as I go.