Review Summary: Beware the catacombs...
Does it hurt? D’you reckon you could like… Squeeze any harder, say?
According to the bigwigs over at Rhino records, the answer’s a well rounded yes. See, about a month ago they thought it’d be a brilliant idea to stick together all the songs from the only two Jane’s Addiction albums that ever mattered, put them on one album, and expected hotcakes for lunch. But why? After all, the violent flash of the supernova that was JA came and went just like it was: a watercolour paintstroke of the feeling of
real danger, unlike the pseudo ‘life on the edge’ hair metal bands that dominated airplay for so long in the 80s. Gone was that era: this was a new, precarious art form with its roots in punk, dabbling with Rock n’ Roll, a reckless abandon that simply didn’t care who or what was in it’s way - Sit down, shut up, or ship out, ‘cause we’re Jane’s Addiction.
Like the raging supernovas so sought after by astronomers planet wide however, this was a musical flame that lasted just as long - Shortly after the release of the band’s second studio album
Ritual De Lo Habitual in 1990, after four short years together, the Jane’s outfit broke up – what it left behind was one of the most profound post-recording legacies of any band to date; a legacy that Rhino is sucking in real hard. First, there was Deconstruction, the ‘one album only’ band, formed by 3/4’s of JA, with the exception of Perry Farrell’s haunting vocals, as a project simply ‘to get the music out of their systems’ which resulted in some of the weirdest rock music recorded to date. Perry himself went on to form Porno For Pyros with fellow band member Stephen Perkins and his mighty drums, another largely forgotten band whose own legacy has largely been derived from their association with Jane’s. There was also the rather awkward Chilli Pepper’s album
One Hot Minute, featuring Dave Navarro on guitar, which was given a rather cold reception from fans of the band who said it simply wasn’t the Chilli Peppers they knew and loved. Other albums include Navarro’s and Farrell’s solo efforts, Avery’s Polar Bear, the recently released
One by
The Panic Channel… the list is endless. Truth is, us Addiction fans are… well… addicted. We simply can’t get enough.
And we just keep getting fed too, with Rhino’s Up From The Catacombs being the latest in a long line of records to please our appetites. But forget that. If you wanted a Addiction best of, it already exists in the form of a double disk set known as
Ritual De Lo Habitual and
Nothing’s Shocking. The rest is methadone. But even meth has its uses, and in the case of Kettle Whistle, it’s the highest quality stuff you’re gonna get on the market. Featuring five new songs (two of which have been performed live previously by the band), a couple of demos and eight live tracks, it looks to be quite a treat. For an album such as this to be successful though, it has to truly capture the essence of Jane’s live and give an insight into the bands evolution into one of the seminal acts of their time – after all, the Jane’s success before Nothing’s Shocking rode primarily on the strength of their live acts. While yours truly wasn’t around to experience it, any live bootlegs confirm that the Addiction were impeccably bombastic on stage, from Perry’s musings with the audience to the sheer energy that flows from the recordings, you can just
feel it in the air. Henry Rollins writes in the linear notes of the album:
“Jane's was a band that needed to be seen to be heard to feel the full impact... They came at you on several levels at the speed of sound. Hardcore, working-the-blvd. Ferocity, too hip surfer zen aloofness, drugged out stratospheric abandon, served up with an almost childlike naivete. Terrifying. Unifying. Riot-inciting… In the blink of an eye, they made other bands seem outrageously unhip and outdated, like when the Wizard of Oz got his a'ss put in check.”
So, the question becomes: does Kettle Whistle stand up and feature all that Jane’s really had to offer in the short time they were together? Well… yes and no. A look at the first few tracks for example, give a decent insight into what awaits for the rest of the album. The opening
title track, a seven minute runner with Flea on bass, was a song that was commonly played by Jane’s live, but never put to record… until now of course. If anything, it’s a song that displayed what Jane’s would have probably evolved into had they kept together. There’s an electronic and atmospheric texturing to the song, a theme that would later also be found in the music of Deconstruction and Perry’s own solo album, Song Yet To Be Sung (which showcased his recently found DJ skills under the moniker DJ Peretz). It’s certainly different from the urgent rush of songs like Stop! and Ocean Size, which defined so much of what the band was like, while keep distinctly Jane’s, utilizing Perkins fondness for tribal drum beats and Navarro’s defined playing. Flea’s presence is felt almost immediately, whose use of occational pop and slide sound somewhat foreign among a Jane’s song. Perry sounds as fresh as ever, lending his unique vocals to a great, almost ethereal song.
The second track, an
Ocean Size demo from ’88 sounds…. Just like the Ocean Size on Nothing’s Shocking, – a massive disappointment, given that it is arguably one of the best songs Jane’s had ever written, with its oh-so distinguishable riff that set people rockin’ out for days on end. It’s so similar in fact, there’s only a one second difference in time between the two songs. Sadly, the same problem exists with the majestic
Three Days, which sounds also almost exactly the same as it’s former self on Ritual. Dear reader, I’m going to be frank: Three Days is the best song ever written in the entirety of the multiverse. Ever. This is fact. I would sell my soul to Satan and have my spleen plucked out by Cerberus every day for the rest of my life to hear every rendition of Three Days that Jane’s ever played. And what did the bastards do? Give us the same damn track with a slightly more meaty solo. AGgh. Yes - even professionalism becomes a thing of the past when humans can resort to such lows. It’s that bad.
Happily, most of the other tracks on Kettle Whistle are represented with markedly better live renditions –
Stop! is a furious romp of balls to the wall rock art, with each member pouring their heart and soul into giving it all they got, culminating in an obligatory audience sing along after one of the best performances Navarro has ever put to record.
Jane Says is a delight on here, with the band opening the song with a seemingly unrelated passage of music before breaking out into the songs distinct acoustic intro, as the crowed absolutely erupts with excitement. Perkins gives a beautiful performance on the steel drums, giving the song a feeling that wouldn’t be out of place in Kingston, Jamaica.
Been Caught Stealing begins with Perry messing with the audience, asking a member: ‘how insecure are you pal? Do you need to steal your friends woman or can’t you get one for yourself?’ Oooh buuurrnnn – setting the tone of Perry’s absolutely flaming performance that just feels so g’damn
fun, with his pseudo scatting like ‘da da dat da dat da’ and syncopated expression.
The other three ‘new’ tracks include
My Cats Name Is Maceo, an ode to Perry’s cat named after Maceo Parker, the famous James Brown horn player, who accepted an invite to play on demo and absolutely steals the songs from the rest of the band.
So What! and
Slow Divers are songs that wouldn’t feel out of place on either Ritual or Nothing’s Shocking, although neither are particularly stand out tracks.
City, the close for the album, is a simple song featuring only Perry and Navarro, singing about life in… the city. Although all four band members were supposed to play on the song, Avery and Perkins were late to the studio, so Perry and Navarro sat down and recorded it anyway. It’s a weird end to the album, leaving you wanting somewhat more. Perhaps though, it’s fitting, given that the entire album feels somewhat like that. The songs are good, but it seems to be missing that little extra ‘oomph’ that makes live albums so spectacular. Perhaps because rather than an album, Kettle Whistle feels like an odd collection of songs that the band threw together to appease us crazy people. It feels so… unfinished.
While the track listing was good, Kettle Whistle should have been a little more extensive – they certainly had space for it. Where were the live staples like the band’s cover of Ice T’s Don’t Call Me N'igger Whitey? And L.A. Medley, featuring the Doors L.A. Woman, X’s Nausea and The Germs’ Lexicon Devil? The Clash cover of ‘Should I Stay or Should I go now?’ Anything, something, just to make Kettle Whistle feel like a real
album. *sigh* Well, to be fair, I did say this was just meth - better than any damn greatest hits you could be fooled into buying.
AGgh.
