Jane's Relapse Shines as Necessary, Promising Fix

About 10 years ago in L.A. there arose a band, seemingly out of nowhere, which would go on to rise to world-wide fame in only a few years. The band consisted of a phenomenal group of musicians--one of the most explosive and expressive guitarists ever, a brilliant drummer whom many rate as one of the absolute top of all time and a bassist who stubbornly held down infernal, demonic grooves. They were fronted by a singer who knew exactly what buttons to push and how to make people notice and who possessed a voice that simultaneously conveyed complete brattiness and pure animal ferocity. It seemed too good to be true, and of course it was.

At the height of their critical and commercial success, right after their sophomore major label effort, Ritual de Lo Habitual, went platinum, they broke up somewhere in Hawaii, never to play all together again. The bassist, Eric Avery, and the guitarist, Dave Navarro, put out a little-remembered CD called Deconstruction which died without a whimper. Drummer Stephen Perkins and singer Perry Farrell formed the nucleus of Porno for Pyros and released two largely point-less CD's. But rejoice, Jane's Addiction is back! With the affable Flea replacing Eric Avery on bass, the group finally has a new album out.

Well, not quite. It turns out that the CD contains only two tracks recorded with the new lineup and contains only four other songs that haven't been released previously. The rest of the tracks are live or rare versions of such classics as "Stop" and "Mountain Song." But for Jane's Addiction fans, the point is moot. The simple fact that there is a new CD out with Jane's Addiction on the cover means that Kettle Whistle will have followers to the store in no time.

The rest may wonder what all the fuss is about. Another turn-of-the-90s band puts out a CD full of studio out-takes and a couple of live recordings. Ho hum. But it'll be their loss. Jane's Addiction was one of the most dynamic and exciting rock bands ever, and Kettle Whistle shows why. During the course of nearly 75 minutes and 15 songs, there is not a feeble track to be found.

First, the bad news. The two new songs are decent, but don't have the fire of the classics. It's unrealistic to expect the crew to muster the energy of their hey-day, but it's disappointing nonetheless. The title track is more experimental than exciting, and "So What!" is too cerebral for it's own good. The excellent "Hard Charger," from the otherwise humdrum Private Parts soundtrack, alas, would have been a more than welcome addition. Both new tracks have spark, though, and certainly don't amount to mere filler. As to the unreleased tracks, they're a fascinating look at a previously unseen side of the band. "My Cat's Name is Maceo," an unreleased, nonsensical ditty about Perry's cat, is a marvelously catchy number unlike anything else the group ever did. "Slow Divers" is a whimsical, psychedelic parable that touches on such disparate topics as drugs and waterfalls.

That's another thing--the lyrics. Perry's words were never clear, yet always had a searing impact. Nobody may actually know exactly what "Mountain Song" is about, but it sure grabbed you where you felt it. The last song, "City," is a perfect example of Perry's songwriting techniques. The liner notes say that Perkins and Avery were given wrong directions, and never made it to the studio, which left just Dave and Perry to complete the song. Over a throw-away guitar accompaniment, Perry sings lyrics that embody the underbelly of city life. "There's a garbage can, you can eat. There's a park bench, you can sleep."

But it's the live tracks that take the cake. In preparation of the release, Perkins pored over all the concert tapes for months, choosing among the best versions of songs. He claimed that he didn't always pick the most technically perfect versions, just the ones that best captured the energy of the band. His meticulousness has paid off. "Stop" and "Ain't No Right" are scorchers. The classic "Jane Says" gets a new treatment and wears it nicely. The 12-minute sonic bomb "Three Days" shows just why Jane's Addiction never failed to tear up a stage. Eric and Stephen play as if they were controlled by a single mind, Dave alternately soothes and destroys with absolutely stellar guitar work and Perry sings his guts out, as always. The most ferocious recording on the album, though, would have to be the live version of "Whores," a track from Jane's Triple X Records self-titled release. Spewing forth some of the most vitriolic vocals ever recorded, Perry and his cohorts whip a cyclone of slashing sound and fury.

For the die-hards, the choice is no choice. Get it now. For the rest, if you've always wondered what Jane's Addiction was about, look no further. One more note about "Mountain Song"--the version included on the album is the first demo that the group ever recorded, and which they sent to Triple X Records, in hopes of landing a record contract (which they promptly did). There is a breathtaking distance between that early, embryonic indicator of Jane's future brilliance, and the new songs recorded for this album 10 years later. It'll be interesting to see where they are 10 years from now.