January 2005, telegraph.co.uk

The final instalment in the Red Hot Chili Peppers guitarist’s remarkable flurry of activity – it’s his sixth release in almost as many months – is a warm and fuzzy collection of 11 lo-fi songs recorded on an antediluvian tape recorder with a little help from his friends on drums and upright bass and guitar.

The mood is mellow, a bit sad, but he’s clearly come a long way since the days when he allegedly took heroin until his teeth fell out. Some of the songs, such as the opening track, The Past Recedes, sound as if they could easily have been “worked up” into fully-fledged RHCP tunes; others are little more than doodles. It’s sweet, personal and intimate, and Frusciante’s guitar playing is, as always, melodic, clear and unostentatious.

It’s not the most compelling album ever made, but where it does strike home is in helping fans of the Chili Peppers to unpick just what Frusciante has contributed to the group’s extraordinary success in the past few years. Bassist Flea and drummer Chad Smith do the funk thing; singer Anthony Kiedis is manic, epic, mad; and Frusciante would appear to be the illuminator, the bringer of serene beauty and harmony.

David Cheal