One of the craziest musicians of all time, Flea, known for the bassist of the rock band Red Hot Chili Peppers, shared his feelings after the tragic passing of the former Red Hot Chili Peppers guitarist, Jack Sherman, and made fans sad with the letter he wrote.

Jack Sherman, who joined Red Hot Chili Peppers on the band’s first US tour in 1984, has died at the age of 64 and made upset RHCP fans deeply. He appeared on the rockers’ debut studio album and made a great work with them.

With the recent social media post, the 57-year-old bassist wrote a touching letter to pay his tribute to the legendary guitarist and said his last words about him. He showed fans that he was devastated with that tragic passing and that how it affected him.

In the letter, Flea admitted that he behaved so badly to him sometimes and expressed his regret for it. He also touched what Jack taught him to live healthily.

Also, Red Hot Chili Peppers‘ fans and people who follow Flea commented on the photo and paid their tribute to him by sharing their feelings.

Flea wrote:

“It has taken me a couple of weeks to process the death of Jack Sherman. Our relationship was complicated, we stopped playing music together in 1985 and things were often fraught in the rare times we communicated since. I found him to be unreasonable sometimes, and I’m sure I behaved like an obnoxious asshole with him sometimes.

This morning, in pondering him, a wave of appreciation washed over me, which is really the only truth of the matter. When I first went to his house he had a ONE NATION UNDER A GROOVE flag on his bedroom wall, and he played me funk I had never heard, like March To the Witches Castle. He was beaming with glee when he played it, and we were enrapt in the mythology of the funk like a couple of little kids. He played the most wicked guitar part on our song Mommy Where’s Daddy, a thing that influenced the way I heard rhythm forever.

He taught me about diet, to eat clean and be conscious of my body. But more than anything, he was my friend. We came from very different backgrounds, had different world views, and it was hard for us to relate to one another often. But the excitement we shared over music, and the joy that bubbled up between us will last forever. Rest In Peace Sherm I love you.”

See Flea’s letter below.

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It has taken me a couple of weeks to process the death of Jack Sherman. Our relationship was complicated, we stopped playing music together in 1985 and things were often fraught in the rare times we communicated since. I found him to be unreasonable sometimes, and I’m sure I behaved like an obnoxious asshole with him sometimes. This morning, in pondering him, a wave of appreciation washed over me, which is really the only truth of the matter. When I first went to his house he had a ONE NATION UNDER A GROOVE flag on his bedroom wall, and he played me funk I had never heard, like March To the Witches Castle. He was beaming with glee when he played it, and we were enrapt in the mythology of the funk like a couple of little kids. He played the most wicked guitar part on our song Mommy Where’s Daddy, a thing that influenced the way I heard rhythm forever. He taught me about diet, to eat clean and be conscious of my body. But more than anything, he was my friend. We came from very different backgrounds, had different world views, and it was hard for us to relate to one another often. But the excitement we shared over music, and the joy that bubbled up between us will last forever. Rest In Peace Sherm I love you.

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