A waste of a great rhythm section
By John Petric
Published: Wednesday, June 3, 2009 4:34 PM EDT
If you can imagine the ’50s children’s TV show marionette Howdy Doody dressed in a gold lamé cowboy outfit à la Elvis Presley circa the Las Vegas cheese years, then you’ve got a pretty good handle on Perry Farrell of Jane’s Addiction.
We’re talking a hyper Chihuahua dressed like mommy’s little gerbil in a cast-off Liberace outfit doing moves so bad they make Scott Weiland of Stone Temple Pilots look good (ol’ Scotty being the total wiener schnitzel when it comes wank-and-yank loser frontmen).
So what did the Jane’s reunion-tour gig (after 18 years apart) have going for it Friday night at the LC, hmmm?
Funny how the inclusion of an original monster bass player can make all the difference. Eric Avery, who apparently does not get along with the Great Electric Song And Dance Gerbil Puppet behind the scenes, nonetheless coupled with tom-tom-heavy drummer Steven Perkins for one of the most colossal rhythm sections in rock I’ve ever heard.
And that goes for in any kind of rock. Alt-rock, indie rock, grunge bungee-cord rock, Bangkok rock, hard rock, death metal rock, Christian furniture-refurbishment rock of the soul—you name the style of rock, and these two guys are among the strongest in history. They could power Zeppelin and the Who. Awesome!
The hits came and conquered a huge crowd already in Jane’s palm: “Been Caught Stealing,” “Nothing’s Shocking,” “Mountain Song,” “Summertime Rolls,” “Had a Dad.” They played it, and the Addiction-addicted loved it.
Not me.
Here’s what I heard: Despite a rhythm section born of hell’s bowels itself (this is a supreme compliment), I found nearly every Jane’s song a formless, stylistically wanting mediocre racket. Lots of sturm und drang, sure, but Judas Priest songs have more meaning musically. As for Perry’s anti-social lyrical leanings, hey, he’s a creep.
Lousy songs with an oceanic bass-and-drums team. What a waste.
Now for Dave Navarro. I don’t care how many nipple piercings the guy has, he’s the most preposterously overrated guitar player shredding. With his bare torso looking like a human Christmas tree bought at a fetishists ball, he may look like every nonconformist’s favorite conformist, but he adds little to the mix other than crappy-ass lead-guitar atmospherics. Bo-ring.
Jane’s delivers a vibe, true. Like a tribal jam band with balls. If you can abandon taste and just go for the obnoxious energy, you’ll definitely get laid by the music.
But between that happy idiot Farrell and kinky-tits Navarro, they’re not rock stars so much as jack-off stars. Funny—a bassist and drummer who are fierce with an exclamation point, and a singer and guitarist who are a pair of pussies. In the end, they’re one of the worst bands ever.
I will say that I found the encore number “Jane Says,” done acoustically with Perkins on a conga drum, to be quite touching. No, really, I’m sincere about this. Everybody was feeling good, everybody was singing along, girls were dancing not too stupidly on the lawn—hey, what was there not to like? It felt like the first night of summer.
http://www.theotherpaper.com/articles/2 ... 504270.txt
There's no way John Petric was at the same show I was at Friday night.
That or he just hates Jane's Addiction.
[/img]