When a band releases a double album it’s always their opus – it’s the one that folks are meant to remember for the eons to come, to have and to hold, to cherish and be amazed by something new each and every time. Of course, it infrequently works out like that.

The fifty year history of rock ‘n roll is scattered with laudable failures that reached for the stars but were ultimately left grasping at air. Some say that even some of the greatest bands, such as Led Zeppelin, the Who, the Clash, (the list goes on), got it wrong when they tried to do too much. It invariably resulted in a back-to-basics approach the next time around.

So, much as you’d expect, ‘Jupiter’ and ‘Mars’ are simply too long, with both featuring fourteen tracks and lasting an hour each. That’s a whole lot of Chili Peppers, a whole lot of Anthony Kiedis’ off-key singing, rapping, and crooning. Flea’s slap bass is used surprisingly infrequently, given that he complained vociferously about its absence and queried is role with the band in the wake of his lack of involvement on last album On the Way.

The star is still John Frusciante – his intelligent and inventive guitar playing and occasionally well-used backing vocals are what makes two hours of Red Hot Chili Peppers somewhat palatable. He can go from languid to raging, and hits all spots in between throughout Stadium Arcadium. It is an album that continues to position Red Hot Chili Peppers as a solid rock band with an incredible guitarist rather than a band that is breaking the mould, as they were on the incredible Mother’s Milk and BloodSugarSexMagik, both of which are now over 15 years old.