Scar Tissue (66 page)

Hillel and I, sitting at the edge of some motel bed during an American tour for our record
Freaky Styley
. Both of us look a wee bit worse from wear. And both of us seem to be attempting to unsuccessfully produce looks of well-being for the camera. Oh well, we were livin’ fast and hard! 1986.

Los Faces of Fairfax at age sixteen. Left to right—me, Hillel, and Flea on a cross-country tear through Michigan in the summer of ’79. We liked to eat, drink, be merry, and play lots of tricks on each other. The cabin on Little Manistee River.

My father and I used to run into each other out on the town long after I had evacuated the nest. Here he is, upholding the spirit of Bela Lugosi with a scowl and a classic Kiedis chin tilt. The T-shirt I’m wearing was a gift from Flea. He bought it in Amsterdam. And it later became the lyrical inspiration for our song “Buckle Down”. . . Red star, black fist. 1984.

Note the ridiculous haircut. The preposterous facial expression. The ludicrous tilt of the chin. Why am I trying to seduce the lens? I think I stole these hilarious mannerisms from my dad. Did I mention my outfit? The visible knee posture would later become my trademark for meeting girls.

Backstage immediately before our first-ever headlining show at an arena. It was the Long Beach Arena where I had seen Deep Purple and Rod Stewart when I was seven years old. I am not sure who this girl is or why my hand was mysteriously finding its way down the back of her skirt, but I do know that I was a free man. And why do I look like I’m consoling her?

I know it’s blurry, but to me this is a meaningful shot. It’s of Flea and me listening to some music that George Clinton wanted very much to play for us. That’s Jennifer Bruce sitting on the bed with her back to us. I think we were all high on the first batch of Ecstasy to ever come through L.A. Some hotel, 1985 or ’86.

Two minutes after our fourth-ever show at the Cathay de Grand on Gower and Selma, Gary Leonard took our picture in the backstage hallway. I think our collective enthusiasm shows up strong in this moment. We weren’t jaded or tired of anything. 1983. (Photo credit: Gary Leonard)

Here we are in the midst of an official photo session. That’s D.H., our drummer at the time, rocking the mike. We pulled a switcheroo of instruments for the hell of it and I was the only one who couldn’t actually play the instrument I had switched to for the picture. 1988-ish.

Only God knows what club we are playing in here. I do guesstimate that it is somewhere in America on tour for the
Uplift
record. Hillel is wearing spats on his shoes. Flea is working the thumb. And I am flanked by two of the greatest of all time.

Something wonderful happening in a church on our first-ever U.S. tour. It was somewhere in Oklahoma, and we were feeling the magic of being a band in front of about twenty people. 1985.