Magazine Interviews |   home
SPIN April, 1996   |   John in Interview   |   John in Guitar World Acoustic 2001   |   Anthony in Interview   |   Rolling Stone '92   |   Anthony in Rolling Stone '94   |   Rolling Stone '95   |   Rolling Stone 2000   |   Collegiate Insider   |   Flea & Dave in Guitar Player '95   |   Flea in MUSICIAN   |   "Father Knows Best" by Flea   |   John in The Observer   |   Anthony in Rolling Stone's "People of the Year"   |   Fresno Bee article   |   KERRANG! July 11, '98   |   Chad in DRUM!   |   UCLA Paper on Anthony   |   Guitar World 2002
Jane Magazine
Sept. 2000
by Flea


When the Red Hot Chili Peppers were asked to play at the opening of the Experience Music Project in Seattle, my first thought was to whine about it: "We've been touring so much!  That's our break week! Can't I just go home and play with my dog?"  Then my next thought was, "How much do we get?  That much? Wow, maybe we should do it."  Then the clincher was my daughter, who said, "Eminem! Eminem is playing that show?  You've got to do it, Papa!  Eminem is the coolest, can I come, please?"  So next thing ya know, we are flying to Seattle to do the gig, with my 11-year-old daughter, Clara, and her 13-year-old friend Jane.
     On our last tour, Clara had informed me, "You guys are too old and boring, the Foo Fighters are fun and great.  You guys sit in your dressing room doing yoga and lighting candles, the Foo Fighters jump around and have fun." So, of course, I like to have her along to boost my self-esteem, and, of course, the main mission of the trip was for Clara and Jane to meet Eminem, and, of course, he has a menacing and intimidating personality named Slim Shady who had the girls on edge.  Incidentally, I really like Eminem's new record, too.
     We arrived in Seattle the night before the show and the girls stayed up till 4 a.m. watching Ice Cube in Next Friday.  Like the old fart I am, I meditated, read some Thoreau, and went to sleep.  I had a dream that Anthony and I were running around pulling intense bank heists and going on the lam.  The following morning I got up, did yoga, and patiently waited for the girls to wake up, which they did at noon, and we took a walk to Pike Place Market.  I had a delicious nectarine and dug the guys singing doo-wop on the corner.  The girls did not seem to appreciate the doo-wop guys, as there is a very narrow window of what is cool to them at this time: just Eminem and a few other things, like heavy-metal rap bands, Britney Spears, and those ridiculous movies with Freddie Prinze's kin in `em.
     We got to the show early and I retreated from the hecticness to our dressing room while the other guys went to do press.  I was kinda feeling out of sorts and didn't want to do any, but while I was hiding out playing backgammon, MTV came into the dressing room anyway.  So I verbally assaulted them with a nice dose of profanity and compared myself and our drum roadie to Marcel Duchamp and Man Ray, which I'm sure they found quite humorous, and they left me alone.
     Then the apex of our trip happened: My manager Peter Mensch took Clara and Jane to see Eminem in his dressing room.  Woodja believe it?  The vicious and terrifying Slim Shady was polite and kind to the girls, giving them both autographed photos and making them feel great.  He gave them his time and energy and they were over the fucking moon.  At that point, I could have gone home with the mission accomplished, but I think I probably woulda been sued if that was the case.
     Anyway, we did our top-secret preshow rituals and hit the stage and rocked like we do.  We busted out the socks for the first time in ages.  It embarrassed the hell out of Clara, but the crowd seemed to like it and we had a blast.
     Then I went to watch Eminem, Snoop Dog, and Dr. Dre, who were all great.  Especially Snoop, who was in a deeply funky voodoo trance and dropped his intense style of behind-the-beat rhyming, which just rocks my world.  I didn't get to see Metallica, because we went to tour the museum, though I did catch one second of that rockin' song they do that goes "da da da badabadabada da da da badabadabada badabadabaaaapatatatatatatatatatata."  I love that one.  I wish they did "Fight Fire with Fire," though.
     Oh, before I forget: On the way out, we ran into Eminem in the hallway.  We shook hands and said hello.  I told him I liked his record.  He said I was a crazy m*****f*****, for which I would like to thank him, because that scored me huge points with my daughter.  She didn't think I was a big dork for at least an hour after that.  "Papa, Eminem said you're a crazy m*****f*****.  That's so cool."
     I enjoyed the museum very much.  It had amazing interactive instruments and recording equipment to play with, but the thing I liked the most was its comprehensive display of the L.A. punk-rock scene from the late `70s and early `80s.  This is one of my favorite periods of music and just does not get the attention it deserves.  Great bands, like the Germs and X and Black Flag and the Minutemen, and many more, were covered-not to mention the Weirdos.  Afterward, I was starving and I finally got a hamburger and took the girls home and went to bed.
     The next day, when I got in the car to go to the airport, I was greeted by my grim-faced manager who, looking like he was bearing disastrous tidings, said, "The Chili Peppers have been banned from the museum.  They say you trashed the joint."  I felt sad when he told me about that ridiculous accusation because I really liked that place.  Evidently some things had been broken and they assumed we did it because our drummer Chad's girlfriend had been rude to the girl who operated the mixing console and screwed with the mixing desk at the karaoke booth that we played in.  It was a shame to be blamed for that, because of one rude person besmirching our name.  Oh, well, I thought the EMP was really cool anyway and I recommend it.  Glorify the fine art of rock music, I say, and let's hear it for the Germs.