#28: John Frusciante - Smile From the Streets You Hold

As the legend mixed with some truth goes, Smile From the Streets You Hold was made by John Frusciante for the sole purpose of scoring drug money. Then once he cleaned up and rejoined the Red Hot Chili Peppers, he had the album pulled, and it became somewhat rare. His first solo record, Niandra Lades and Usually Just a T-Shirt, was eventually reissued on American, but this, his second record, has been in short supply for nearly a decade.

It's hard to explain the appeal of early John Frusciante, and it's probable that most people will just see it as a morbid fascination with what basically amounts to suicide on a record. The first two records were made on four-track recorders in John's house, with little or no overdubbing, and only a smattering of tape-speed manipulation to create anything other than the sounds of a man pounding on his guitar and screeching through rotting teeth. For the classic chronicle of this time in John's life, this profile by Robert Wilonsky is essential reading. I interviewed John a number of years later, and it was hard to believe it was the same guy, even if he was still talking about opening portals to the spirit world - oh yeah, this is the record where he first claimed that he was given these songs by spirits. Yeah.

John's later material was much more pop sensible, with standard rock song structures, catchy hooks and much slicker presentation. But these early records take dedication. For every song that sounds like something Fortunato would be howling from his tomb, there's a quick burst or two of melodicism on "A Fall Thru the Ground" or the slow, melodic intro to "I May Again Know John," which comes across as so soulful and together that it's like a glimpse into what it must be like when a junkie tells someone, "No, I'm fine, really," and you believe it for a minute, although the abscesses tell you otherwise.

As far as actual songs go, I find this record - usually considered the weaker of his first two albums - to be more substantial and enjoyable. There was an abundance of half-ideas and meandering instrumentals on Niandra Lades that stretched it well past its welcome, but here, there's some melody, some songs you can almost sing along to, and a spiffy cameo from River Phoenix on "Height Down," contributing some soft vocals that make a nice counterpoint to Frusciante's wounded cries.

So while yes, I do find a certain sort of fascinating appeal in the damaged, downward spiral aspect of his career at this point, there's still something inherently charming about the early records that has nothing to do with thinking about the drugs and the state of his life at that point. Regardless of whether this was made for a quick buck to get a quick fix, there's something special here, and it's fortunate that he decided to pull the needle out of his arm, because I love just about everything he's done since. His solo work is one of the most underrated bodies of singer/songwriter material in the last decade, I firmly believe that.

"Stuff" - a movie made by Johnny Depp and Gibby Hanyes, featuring a few of John's songs from this era and showing his living conditions.



"Life's a Bath"