hey, welcome to 12tone! 1991 was arguably the last
most important year in the history of rock music. not the only most important year, mind you,
but I'm not sure we've really seen anything quite like it since. '91 marked the mainstream
arrival of alternative rock, a more serious, down-to-earth response to the increasingly
cartoonish antics of the arena rock acts from the '80s. it saw the breakout success of
many of the movement's most influential bands, as well as early efforts by rising stars who
would go on to guide the scene through the rest of the decade. at its core, '91 was a hard
reset on what rock music was in the public eye, presenting a new vision for the genre that endures
to this day. and while the most important album in that process was probably Nirvana's Nevermind,
I think there's a good argument to be made that second place belongs to the Red Hot Chili Peppers'
Blood Sugar Sex Magik. it was the band's fifth studio album, but only their second with what
would eventually become their signature lineup, including guitarist John Frusciante and drummer
Chad Smith. Blood Sugar was a radical departure from their previous work, creating a new sound
that would define the Chili Peppers for the rest of their career. it's an ambitious, inventive
album, and today I'd like to look at what, to me, is probably its most enduring song, one
that showcases the emotional depths that existed beneath the band's energetic, often juvenile
exterior: Under The Bridge. let's take it apart. (tick, tick, tick, tick, tock) the song starts like this: (bang) so let's look at the chords. we're going back and
forth between D and F#, two major triads a major third apart. that's a really special relationship:
the two chords share one note in common, in this case F#, and then the other two notes
are a half-step apart in opposite directions, with D moving down to C# and A moving up
to A#. that gives us perfectly balanced, symmetrical voice-leading, so neither chord feels
harmonically higher or lower than the other. instead, we have this serene,
almost sedated progression that barely feels like it's moving at all.
no other pair of major triads has that: you always move more in one direction than
the other, unless they're a major 3rd apart. but that stillness is contradicted by the melodic
aspects of Frusciante's playing. in each bar, the first three beats are an arpeggio
with a vague upward trajectory: (bang) but then the last beat is a clear, deliberate
walk down to the next chord's root. (bang) and that walk-down seems to be
really important. I think the most obvious thing to do would be
to walk down, then back up. (bang) that lets you fill the space more efficiently,
and it ties in with the balanced motion of the progression. but Frusciante doesn't do that.
instead, in the second bar, he starts the walk from a high F#, going so far as to overshoot
the target D and slide back up: (bang) in order to make sure he gets the descending
line he wants. combine that with the chords, and you get an intro that's not going
anywhere, but it's still going down. or, ok, he doesn't always play the walk-down:
every other D chord, he replaces it with this: (bang) where he slows down, moves up a
little bit, but then falls all the way back down anyway. so what does this all mean? well, the song
is about singer Anthony Kiedis's struggles with addiction and depression and to capture that, the
intro creates this sense of descending numbness, a musical impression of the spiral of
addiction. with just the walk-downs, we'd see how empty that place felt, but
it's the failed attempt at a walk up, even when the distance is so much shorter,
that shows just how hard it is to escape. that leads into the verse, and the first thing
I want to look at is the first chord. again, we've been going back and forth between D
and F#. from a voice-leading perspective, these are the two closest major triads,
so it says a lot to suddenly shift to E, the furthest major triad from both of
them. it sits directly between them, a whole step away from each, and it's impossible
to voice-lead smoothly. best you can do is slide all the notes a whole step in the same direction.
when I listened to this song as a teenager, this transition always felt super awkward and
jarring, like they were throwing out the intro and starting a whole new song, and I'm pretty
sure this is why. not only have we changed keys, we've changed to a chord that refuses to fit
with anything we've heard previously. it's really uncomfortable to listen to, which sets the
stage brilliantly for what we're about to hear. in terms of chords, the verse
alternates between two forms, and I'd like to start with the second one. (bang) this is a really classic chord progression in
rock, often called the axis progression. if you've seen that medley by the Axis of Awesome of all the
different songs with the same four chords, this is that. it's a nice, simple backdrop that does its
job without calling too much attention to itself. there is one little flourish, though, which we see
in the first half. (bang) this is the same thing, but instead of going straight to A at the end, he
sets it up with a rhythmic figure and a brief trip to G# minor. normally, in the axis progression,
the move to the last chord is fairly soft, so adding this extra chord in between helps make the
arrival on A feel like a bit more of an event, changing the vibe of the loop by
introducing some stronger harmonic motion. but again, the chords aren't a huge deal here.
what matters more is the accompaniment: that is, how those chords are played. in this first
verse, Frusciante is mostly just holding them, to leave as much space as possible for
Kiedis's vocals, so let's look at those. (bang) what's most interesting to me here is the melodic
structure. the first two phrases set up a pretty clear expectation. the first ends on E, the root:
(bang) while the second ends on F#, the 2nd. (bang) this tells us we're gonna be alternating
between a nice, stable resolution and a less stable point, implying further motion. it's a
pretty normal melodic structure, and the third line plays along, ending basically the same way
as the first: (bang) but then the fourth line goes rogue and ends on E again: (bang) like it's just
kinda giving up. the forward momentum of the line suddenly dies. and more than that, this E isn't
even really resolved to. in the first and third lines, it's approached by step from F#: (bang)
but here we just waffle around in 3rds from C#. (bang) and speaking of breaking expectations,
the line doesn't even rhyme. not with anything we've heard so far, anyway: it does rhyme with
the end of the second verse, but those lines are so far apart that, for me at least, it's pretty
hard to catch that in the moment. this all gives the melody a sense of defeat, like he's starting
to do something and then just decides it's not worth the effort. I mean, what's the point?
there's no one around to care if he tries. and to really drive that home,
the whole song stops for a moment, hanging on this rich, complex E major 7. (bang) I'm on record as not being a huge fan of
major 7 chords, but this particular use is beautiful. it plays to the chord's strengths,
with a sort of wistful dissonance that comes from the blend of a bright major triad and that
crunchy major 7th interval, all of which is made even more nuanced by the layers of overdrive
and compression on the guitar. if you really want to capture that sense of sitting passively in
your own emptiness, this is the chord to do it. from there, we pick back up into the second verse.
most of the stuff we talked about still applies, but the accompaniment has started to
change. instead of holding chords, Frusciante starts adding in
all these little fills: (bang) to convey a sense of anxious energy that
complements Kiedis's story of wandering lost through the hills of Los Angeles.
this is also where Smith joins in: (bang) playing mostly hi-hats, with a cross-stick
on the backbeat. this emphasis on the cymbals gives the percussion a shimmering quality,
like a haze that sits over most of the song. even as he introduces more of the kit,
he keeps the hi-hats front and center, supported by those sharp, wooden cross-sticks.
it feels mellow, but like so much of the song, it has an uncomfortable edge to it that
keeps the line from fully settling. that brings us to the chorus, and I'd like
to start by looking at the melody. (bang) I don't know about you, but to me, that B feels
really unstable, and the C# feels pretty resolved. that's the opposite of what we'd expect in the
key of E, but it's exactly what we'd expect in F#, because yeah, I think we've changed keys. if
we turn our attention to the harmony: (bang) it's another fairly common chord progression in
rock. theorists call this a double plagal cadence, but whatever. I don't care. all I care
about is that we're in a minor key. or, ok, technically dorian, but
again, whatever. it's minor enough. now, it's not unusual for a rock song to change
tonalities in the chorus, but it is unusual to do it in this direction. it's much more common to
see a minor verse leading into a major chorus, and at first glance that seems like it'd fit
really well here. after all, the verses tell the story of Kiedis living through the worst day
of his life, while in the chorus he's reflecting back from a healthier place. the verse is the
sad part, so shouldn't it be the minor one? except… no, it's not. as someone who's struggled
with depression for most of my life, I can tell you that, when you're truly at your lowest, you're
not sad. not really. being sad takes effort, and you don't have any to spare. you put on this thin
veneer of existence just to get through the day, but underneath the surface, you're empty. there's
nothing there. it's only once you're past that, when you can look back on where you were, that you
realize just how dark it really was. and that's what this song captures so beautifully. the verses
aren't the sad part. they're major because in that moment, Kiedis doesn't care. he can't afford to.
he just needs to score. nothing else matters. that's why I don't really care
that this progression is, like, a textbook example of a double
plagal cadence or whatever. it's not important. what is important is that
these middle two chords, the E major and the B major, are the same two chords that started the
verse progression. they are in a very literal, or at least heavily symbolic sense, the way he
felt that day, just in a new context that allows him to create distance and to safely reflect. so
no, the minor tonality in the chorus isn't sad. or, I mean, it is, but that sadness is an act of
healing. it's a necessary step on the way back up. and they drive that home with the accompaniment.
I'm gonna play the first bar of the chorus, and I want you to listen to how Kiedis's
vocals line up with the guitar and bass. (bang) did you catch it? yeah, they don't line
up, at least not to start. Kiedis is singing a really simple rhythm with a clear
emphasis on the beats. (bang) Frusciante and Flea, meanwhile, skip the first two beats
and play off-beat stabs in between. (bang) it's not until we go back to the E chord,
back to that dark place from the verse, that they finally start to agree with
Kiedis's phrasing. this gives it a stumbling, uncertain quality, as if, despite knowing that he
needs to change, he's not quite sure if he can. it makes it clear that he's not
recovered. he's just in recovery. speaking of Flea, this is where the bass part
comes in, and since it's Flea, we should probably take a look at it. (bang) it's actually pretty
restrained for a Flea bass line: after the initial stabs he falls into this consistent eighth note
pattern that mimics the rhythmic simplicity of Kiedis's part. he hits the root of each chord
as it changes, then jumps up to a high B before setting up the next chord's root with a note a
whole step away. honestly, this kinda reminds me of a walking bass, with those approach notes
creating a sense of continuity that gives the line a clear, consistent trajectory. combine that with
the relatively wide range and constant motion, and you get a bass part that, while simple, is still
lively and exciting. it's a musical reflection of the more vibrant life Kiedis has found through his
sobriety, the life that he wants to hold on to. this leads into the third verse,
which is a lot like the second, but Flea stays in, holding down
the roots of the chords: (bang) kinda like Frusciante's part in the first verse.
this, along with some accompanying kicks from Smith, creates a fuller musical texture than
previous verses. that's not unusual or anything, later verses tend to include more parts to keep
things interesting, but the contrast here is pretty striking, and it makes this verse feel
a bit more… alive, for lack of a better word. from there we get another chorus, and
then we find ourselves in the bridge. or maybe bridge isn't the right word for it:
we're going to be hearing some version of this section for pretty much the rest of the song.
Frusciante loops the same two bars for like a minute and a half, so maybe there's a better
name for this section, but given the lyrics I think it's an interesting piece of musical
wordplay for the song to end with a long, drawn-out bridge, so I'm just gonna
call it that. I hope that's alright. anyway, let's look at the chords. (bang) these last three are easy: that's just a walk
down the A minor scale. but what about the A major? well, that's doing a couple things. when
we first hear it, it's a pivot chord. in F# minor, the chorus key we were coming from, A major is the
bIII chord. it belongs to the key, so it doesn't sound out of place following that progression.
it smooths out the transition between the two tonalities so we don't have to deal with F# minor
and A minor right next to each other. (bang) once the loop gets going, though, it takes on a
new function. remember how, in the intro, we had two major triads a major third apart, and that
created a special kind of harmonic relationship? well, the progression ends on F major, so going
back to A major means doing the exact same thing. (bang) this time, though, the motion isn't quite
so balanced, because on the way back to F major we have to pass through the rest of the progression.
specifically, we have to go from A major to A minor. (bang) this is another special
harmonic relationship, although perhaps a more obvious one: playing two chords with the same root
but opposite qualities creates this really subtle sense of contradiction. you're not moving, but
something's changed. on its own, that change could seem too small to really be impactful, so Kiedis
reinforces it by leaning on the 3rd of each chord, starting with the two different kinds of C: (bang)
and then settling down to the shared root A as the progression continues. (bang) by using the
melody to emphasize the clashing tonality, he elevates it to a strong enough
position to clearly make its point. the bridge is also where Smith abandons his
hi-hats and cross-sticks and finally gives us a full drum beat. (bang) his kick pattern
is also no longer aligned with Flea's bass, instead marking out its own rhythmic
layer full of 16th note syncopation against the rest of the band's
primarily 8th note-based rhythms. this eruption of percussive energy after the
restraint he's shown all song announces pretty clearly that we're at the conclusion, and
it raises the stakes in this final section. once they've established the loop, we get a
brief interlude with some more of those rich, complex major 7 chords: (bang)
after which the outro really begins. Kiedis is joined by a choir,
led by Frusciante's mother Gail: (bang) singing a new set of lyrics over the chorus
melody, transposed up to fit the new key. it's a massive ending, the end result of all
the slow orchestral build-up they've been doing throughout the song, but that's… kinda weird,
right? I mean, this is the climax, the part the audience is gonna scream along with at concerts,
and yet the lyrics aren't triumphant. they're not about Kiedis's success at leaving his addiction
behind, they're about that day. under the bridge downtown, I gave my life away. that's dark. it's
painful. so why is the arrangement so exciting? honestly, I'm hesitant to read into this
too deeply. as much as I love assigning narrative meanings to every little thing, I do
think it's worth taking a step back sometimes and making sure I'm not just inventing stories
out of thin air. ending on a climax is pretty typical in rock song forms, and the choir makes
the lyrics a little hard to understand anyway. so yeah, maybe this means nothing, and if that
conclusion satisfies you, I totally get it. your interpretation is valid, even if your
interpretation is just that this thing doesn't affect your experience of the song.
throughout this video I've left out plenty of details that just don't matter enough to me
to be worth mentioning. that's how analysis works. but hear me out: maybe it doesn't mean
nothing. maybe, and I'm just spitballing here, but maybe it means something. after all,
this specific arrangement was still a choice, and intentional or not, choices communicate
ideas. so if we were to try to understand this choice from the perspective of the song's
narrative, what might it be telling us? well, what I get from it is the same thing I've
been getting over and over throughout the song: he's not out. not yet, and possibly not
ever. this triumphant celebration of his lowest moment shows just how much hold that day
still has over his life. the euphoria of reducing all the complexities of human existence down to
a single objective and then achieving it? that's hard to shake, no matter how much it cost you. the
story here isn't one of triumph over addiction. it's survival in the face of addiction, of
constantly facing your own temptations and refusing each day to let them win. Kiedis wrote
the song after only a couple years of sobriety, while he was still trying to work through
all the scars his actions had left. he'd ultimately relapse again later in the
decade, but eventually he'd manage to get clean, and by all reports he's been sober for over 20
years now. I don't know if he still thinks about that day, but as dark as this song gets, it's
nice to know the real story has a happy ending. and hey, thanks for watching, thanks to our
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