Friday, November 21, 2008

I Love the Red Hot Chili Peppers

and I will die a happy woman should I ever get to see them live.

I've been caught up in Stadium Arcadium the last few days. Specifically, three songs from the Jupiter side: Dani California, Slow Cheetah and Wet Sand. And of those three, particularly Wet Sand. Two things I have gleaned about RHCP from the web over the last few days: 1) they really know how to write a chorus and 2) this song is perfect to 'die to.' Completely agree with the first and, while I will withhold judgment on the second until I am ready to die, I'm inclined to agree with that sentiment as well. God knows that I really tried - I think that's something we'll all be thinking in those final moments.

Anyway, that kind of got me thinking, as I listened to the song. The lyrics, like a lot of RHCP lyrics, sound really mystical and spiritually profound. I find myself believing in them, running my mental fingers over the complexities and profundities to be explored.

And then I run smack dab into 'you don't form in the wet sand, you don't form at all/you don't form in the wet sand - I do'. And what do I do with that? Wet sand? Form? You?

Fortunately, a fevered imagination will always overcome dull reality. Obviously, it's not literal. Well, not literal as in form equaling create. I see him (the sometimes handsome Anthony Kiedis, of course) walking on the beach, the sun setting, his feet at the water's edge. And the wet sand is a crystal ball of sorts where he's looking not just at his lovely footprints (that are quickly disappearing back into wet sand), but at his future, and whoever his 'you' is ain't gonna be there with him.

I can be deep, too.

The live version.