Rather like the Red Hot Chili Peppers’ highest point of popularity around the turn of the millennium, Pitchfork‘s review of the band’s 1999 album Californication was very much of its era:
“In a way, you have to be familiar with California to appreciate (lead singer Anthony) Kiedis’ lyrics. I mean, Los Angeles is shallow, sunny, fun, and tragic … Longevity in rock music is about as rare as hip-hop spellcheckers these days. The idea of albums has given way to the force-feeding of singles. Teens reposter their walls with the face-of-the-moment more frequently than undercover advertisers placard boarded-up fences and buildings in New York. Basically, the Chili Peppers are the closest thing we have to a Led Zepplin today. If you want quality, commercial, Jeep-stereo, headphone, stadium-filling, champion Rock that you can get behind, where else are you going to turn? Not to Eminem, you ain’t.”
The title track is quite a lot more reserved than “Scar Tissue,” “Get on Top,” and “Right on Time.” But there’s room for a ballad on even a rock album (or a tune that amounts to a ballad in RHCP-land) — and “Californication” fits the bill. After a start in A minor, there’s a shift to F# minor or an instrumental bridge at 3:22, then a return to the original key at 4:02.