It turns out that Flea and jazz have roots that go far deeper than his brief appearance in 1988 Chet Baker documentary Let’s Get Lost. Flea’s formative musical experiences involve family friends staging briskly paced be-bop jam sessions, and Flea only ditched extensive lessons in trumpet in favour of bass when invited to join Red Hot Chili Peppers by late guitarist Hillel Slovak. Approaching 60, Flea felt the pull to pick up the trumpet again, and Honora (named after a beloved late relative) presents the outcomes of a two year campaign to practice daily on the instrument.
In stark contrast to similarly unexpected diversions from the expected script such as Andre 3000’s flute album, Flea’s prowess on trumpet (and more predictably electric bass) are very much the main course on Honora. The Los Angeles-based musician proves capable of holding his own in the company of such virtuoso luminaries from the International Anthem label family as guitarist Jeff Parker (also of Tortoise), bassist Anna Butterss and saxophonist Josh Johnson, who also produced the album.
The album’s first half in particular provides compelling proof of musically open-eared adventurism and spirit of generous collaboration that goes far beyond any reductive stereotypes generated during Flea’s four decades as a member of the frequently underdressed and strutting Red Hot Chili Peppers. “A Plea” is an invigorating call for resistance to divisive politics (with a spoken word chant that possibly channels Sun Ra’s “Nuclear War”) that really, really swings, whilst the 10-minute “Frailed” pitches Flea’s atmospheric trumpet against a minimalist electronic pulse with hypnotic results. The fast-paced, pirouetting “Morning Cry” tips its hat to be-bop’s formative influence, whilst Thom Yorke’s guest vocals (with references to living in the ‘upside down’ that probably have more to do with post-truth politics than Stranger Things) turn “Traffic Lights” into a singular, unsettling yet warm avant-rock-jazz gem.
Next to this, the album’s cover version-heavy second half can feel a touch less energised, as Flea reimagines Funkadelic’s immortal “Maggot Brain” (with trumpet taking place of Eddie Hazel’s blazing guitar meltdown) and Frank Ocean’s “Thinking Bout You” as jazz standards, and invites Nick Cave to lead (beautifully) a fairly faithful take on Jimmy Webb’s evergreen “Wichita Lineman”.
"I’m not being corny, this shit is real," Flea barks at one point during “A Plea”. The bassist known to officials as Michael Balzary is talking about the tune’s pro-unity sentiments, but the statement could equally apply to the whole of this surprising, always engaging debut solo album.
