Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * *

It could be the fault of the listener, after all tastes change and styles must evolve, and for the most part a music lover will go with the flow so far, and then discover quite by accident that their appreciation has waned; what they held dear has become an untethered support, it has become a drama of expensive cool.

It could be the fault of the listener, but loss must be acknowledged both ways, especially in art, and whilst it is a positive improvement on the band’s previous release, Unlimited Love, Return of the Dream Canteen still, unfortunately, lacks the punch that propelled the band to the epicentre of the fan’s wish lists, in both seeing them perform live, which thankfully should never falter, but also of completing collections, of supporting the band as they embrace the idea of inhabiting a new realm, one defined by age, one entrusted in time…it is a punch that doesn’t land with force, it is a jab in the face of fortune.

The Red Hot Chili Peppers have earned their place in music history, yet that status, whilst not under threat, has arguably reduced in its stature over the course of the two albums lately released, and it is because there is no true stand out track, no huge monster that stands out, that drives the power of the group above and beyond the flesh; and perhaps like any revisit to a place which has once fed you well, the meagre offerings are enough to sustain you, but not to enough to make you feel full. The menu that brought you the chili restaurant has turned to the type of fare that may appeal to the niche and fashionable, but has forgotten that those that once tipped well, no longer find themselves welcome at the bar.

There are moments in which foursome, the frantic four of American alternative funk rock, reach out and at least touch the belief once struck, tracks such as Fake as Fu@k, My Cigarette, The Drummer, Copperbelly, and Handful attest to this, and yet it is too little, and too far apart.

An album that is a marked improvement on its predecessor, but which still lacks any of the emotional drama that the band were once lovingly associated with; it is the fight that is missed, and as with any artist, the inevitable route to decline is one paved with good intentions.

Ian D. Hall