Flea – ‘Honora’ review: the Chili Pepper’s jazzy, comforting debut leans back hard

It seems impossible that workaholic Red Hot Chili Peppers bassist Flea, a man who has released new music nearly every year since 1984, could have waited so long to produce a solo record. Besides 13 studio efforts with his faithful California funk-brothers, the man born Michael Balzary has collaborated with nearly everyone over the past four decades – from Radiohead frontman Thom Yorke in supergroup Atoms For Peace to pop pioneer Janet Jackson to hip-hop legend LL Cool J. But he’s never found time to cut a proper solo album of his own.

Patching this small but not insignificant hole in the tapestry of recorded music is ‘Honora’, a quietly accomplished jazz project that he’s put out via Nonesuch. The choice of label should not go unnoticed. Whereas the Chilis are signed to Warner, a major, Nonesuch has historically put out experimental classical composers such as Steve Reich and progressive works from contemporary artists including Yussef Dayes and Tortoise. They prioritise musicianship over commerciality, pedigree above a quick buck, and Flea is saying he wants us to do the same.

Accordingly, most of the new tracks are instrumental. ‘A Plea’ has Flea noodling over frantic drums and a lively wind section that includes Andre 3000-style flute. It’s also one of the only songs on which he speaks, airing his frustrations with our divided world: “We’re all human beings. Can’t we all just get along?”

Then there’s smoky epic ‘Frailed’, which starts out like the theme to a black-and-white ’70s neo-noir thriller – all rattling percussion and tense horn crescendos – but transforms via smooth piano breakdown halfway through. Turgid rambler ‘Willow Weep For Me’ (an interpretation of the standard) is perhaps the weakest attempt, a distorted slog that clashes badly with the Old Hollywood vibes of earlier tunes. Eventually, ‘Free As I Want To Be’ injects some much-needed George Clinton-like soul attitude, though even that builds constantly before fizzling into nothing.

The Chili Peppers, with their bloated live jams and thankfully retired socks-on-cocks stage shtick have often been accused of overindulgence – and occasionally during ‘Honora’, their ebullient bass wizard falls into that trap again. Luckily, he has some old friends around to keep him focused. And it’s within these starry collaborations that Flea’s innate feeling for the jazz genre – which he’s loved since first picking up the trumpet as a young boy – really comes to the fore.

On single ‘Traffic Lights’, he teams up with Yorke again for a fluid, sexy romp that wouldn’t sound out of place in a Thundercat set. “On the scale of one to 10 – how is this experience? Can you spot the idiots?” croons Yorke as he tries to divine reality from an AI-driven digital landscape. Even better is Nick Cave’s wonderfully haunting vocal on ‘Wichita Lineman’, turning the smooth Glen Campbell classic into a sparser and slower, though richer, experience.

By far and away the standout moment on ‘Honora’, however, is the devastatingly beautiful reimagining of Frank Ocean favourite ‘Thinkin Bout You’, from 2012’s ‘Channel Orange’. Stripping the track of its vocal, Flea instead alternates between picking out the verse melody on his four-string and swapping to trumpet for those sublimely comforting chorus lines. The effect is glorious, like slipping into a warm bath after a long run. It makes ‘Honora’ totally worth the wait.