Before the World Wakes: Flea Finds His Quiet Fire on Honora

Released today, at midnight, Honora feels like it was made for the quiet edges of the day. I put it on at 5:00 am, before emails, before noise, and it immediately made sense. This isn’t an album that grabs you. It sits with you.

As a follow-up to his 2012 solo EP Helen Burns, this record feels more grounded and intentional. Back then, Flea was experimenting. Here, he sounds settled. More confident in doing less.

The biggest shift is the trumpet. Most people know him for his bass work with the Red Hot Chilli Peppers, but on Honora, he leans into his first instrument. And he doesn’t try to be flashy. The tone is soft, sometimes fragile, and very human. You can hear echoes of Miles Davis in the space he leaves between notes, and a bit of Pharoah Sanders in the mood, spiritual, patient, unhurried.

The musicians around him keep things subtle. Thom Yorke adds texture more than presence, and Nick Cave’s influence shows up more in feeling than in obvious performance. The mix of upright bass, piano, brushed drums, and violin creates a kind of quiet tension throughout. The violin, especially, stands out. It adds emotion without overpowering anything.

The highlight for me is Frail. It’s slow and deep, built on heavy bass undertones, with trumpet and violin weaving around each other. Nothing rushes. Nothing resolves too quickly. It just unfolds, and you sit with it.

That said, the album won’t be for everyone. There are moments where it almost drifts too far. If you’re expecting energy or momentum, like Flea’s usual work, you won’t find it here.

But that’s also the point. Honora isn’t trying to impress. It’s reflective, stripped down, and personal. It feels like Flea making music for himself first, and letting the rest of us listen in.

It’s not something I’d play in the background. But in the right moment, it lands.