review from http://www.jambase.com/headsup.asp?storyID=1568
JANE'S ADDICTION | 10.03.01 | PHILLY
I seldom see concerts in arenas these days; the artist/audience medium too
diluted and
choreographed to appeal to the raw sonic instincts I have grown gratefully accustomed
to.
That being said, I jumped at the chance to see Jane’s Addiction at the
Philadelphia Spectrum,
the arena that housed my first concert experiences like Motley Crue and Guns
n Roses, and
then later the hallowed room that delivered my earliest Dead and Phish glory
nights. Jane’s was
together again, complete with elaborate stage festivities and a booming soundsystem,
for Perry
Farrell’s new brainchild, the Jubilee Festival.
This festival is to commemorate the Jubilee, a tradition in Jewish mysticism,
or Caballah, as
Farrell has become ensconced in study and practice, supposedly giving up his
dark opiate days
and S+M filled activities. Femi Kuti was supposed to open but was denied Visa
privileges, and
Pennsylvania’s own Live preceded the headliners. The vibe turned strange
as the house lights
came down and LTJ Bukem-like drum and bass came over said soundsystem. The smooth,
analogued-out rollers were from Farrell’s recently released album Song
Yet to Be Sung, and
spun for over a half an hour. Darting laser beams and strobelights created a
marginal party
vibe. The somewhat restless eclectic mix of fluorescent mohawked punks, suburban
skate kids,
dreaded and bald-head peoples of all colors and smattering of exquisite women
sort of milled
about instead of raving out in nervous anticipation as I imagine Farrell’s
twisted jovial mind
envisioned.
With a grand entrance that would make Jon Bon Jovi and W. Axl Rose eat their
hearts out,
Jane’s Addiction, the ultimate rock stars, began with a lavish setting
of Middle Eastern décor
and suggestive, traditional dancing. Farrell rose from an enormous flowing white
skirt that had
five dancers underneath it, waving it about over their heads like we did as
elementary schoolers
playing with the parachute in gym class. Topless go-go dancers swung from an
enormous
shining merry-go round while an American flag was prominently displayed in the
background,
along with much other Jewish spiritual embellishment. Guitar hero and resident
sex symbol Dave
Navarro, looking slick, mighty fit, and raging, was shirtless clad in light
jeans and cowboy boots.
Miniature drummer Stephen Perkins sported a mohawk, Clashed-out clad in a black
tank top and
combat pants and boots. Original bassist Eric Avery has not buried the hatchet
with Perry, so
Porno for Pyros’ Martin Le Noble dutifully filled out the foursome, although
making the group
3/5ths of Porno as well as 3 quarters of Jane's(Perkins drums for PFP).
Opening with an abbreviated "Kettle Whistle" seamlessly into the
scorching surfing tribute
“Ocean Size,” both Farrell and Navarro were in full rock star form.
After disrobing the crazy
skirt, Farrell leaped about the stage frantically as the bar chord refrain had
just about every
guy in the place flailing air guitar. In an enveloping next half hour, Jane’s
tore through classic
after classic with reckless abandon; early on they busted a downright scary
“Three Days,”
showing The Disco Biscuits' hometown just exactly how ferocious and soulful
that epic romp
really is. “Ain’t No Right” lost a little of its metal edge in
a muddy mix, but still provided a
glimpse of how dangerous this band was in its mid-eighties LA club days. It
was during this
speeded-up thrasher that Navarro stepped it up with annihilating fretboard mastery
and gritty
tone. Not to be outdone, Farrell swung violently on the merry-go-round while
delivering the
third verse and then whipped off of the thing and right up the drum riser to
pair the chorus with
Perkins maniacal bashing up close and personal. The song that introduced me
to these icons,
“Stop” got this mostly tame audience all riled up, and finally got
a pit up and slamming in the
general admission area.
One of the more touching highlight of the evening was the inclusion of the
soaring ballad
“Summertime Rolls,” although this tune stood out as one that sorely
missed Eric Avery’s moody
bass strumming. The band retired as some house music came over the PA, only
to reappear on
a very Rolling Stones-esque acoustic mini-stage in the middle of the arena.
They busted the
obvious “Jane Says” to a raucous audience chorus; the tune featured
marvelous steel drumming
by Perkins. Navarro delivered a bluesy acoustic number with somber vocals while
Perry banged
a triangle, and then the three musicians drummed a tribal beat together as Farrell
debuted
“Song Yet to Be Sung” from the album of the same name.
The four badasses then reappeared on the giant main stage for a ridiculous
“Mountain Song,”
an anthem in its own right. The still lame crowd did manage to belt out the
lyric “Everyone has
their own opinion, holding it tight it hurts so bad...” enough to get Perry’s
attention and he in
turn treated us to the creeping metal haunt “Ted, Just Admit It” which
many remember as a
featured song in the Oliver Stone classic Natural Born Killers. With Le Noble
and Perkins banging
it out with sheer brutality, and junk-stud Navarro taking prisoners with his
Marshall stack rage,
Farrell unleashed his most brilliant spaz-out of the evening with his peaking
refrain “Sex is
Violence… Sex is violent” until the band stopped on a dime to mellow
out with the song’s
somber ending.
They disappointed the crowd with a half hearted tribal drumming encore that
was squeezed in
just before the eleven o’clock curfew. This was not enough to damper the
flooding emotions
flowing through so many Jane’s fans who were getting maybe their first,
probably their final
opportunity to see the band (albeit 3/4ths). Kudos to the band for smartly omitting
the cliché
“Been Caught Stealing.” An art rock conglomerate that transcends genres,
generations, dark
drug decay and spiritual rebirth, Jane's Addiction truly are rock stars and
pillars of the
psychedelic cooperative.
Brian Getz
JamBase Correspondent
GO SEE JANE’S ADDICTION!
[Published on 10/4/01]