Chemistry and the Birth of an “Alternative Nation”

Something special happens on a primal level, balanced between karma and chaos when the four original members of Jane’s Addiction take the stage together. It’s a rare occurrence. Since they broke up at the end of the first run of Lollapalooza, the original lineup has only reunited one time, to tour with Nine Inch Nails in 2008-2009. Any iteration of the band is fantastic, but when Eric Avery joins Perry Farrell, Dave Navarro, and Stephen Perkins on stage, the chemistry is undeniable. The band plays with an intensity and passion that is hard to describe. Hold on tight, things are gonna get real.

The Birth of a Genre

Alternative music is largely thought to have been born out of the LA punk scene in the early 80s. Perry Farrell coined the term “Alternative Nation” to mean “not mainstream.” Bands like The Cure, Pixies, Living Colour, Ministry, and Husker Du, along with the funk of Fishbone and the Red Hot Chili Peppers, helped to shape and define the time, and what would become the “Alternative” genre.

But none ventured quite so far down the psychedelic freak hole as Jane’s Addiction. The primal thunder of Stooges and Ramones, the trippy psychedelia of the Doors and Velvet Underground, the groove of Guns and Roses and Aerosmith, the swagger of Van Halen, the glam of New York Dolls, the gender-splitting darkness of The Cure, Bauhaus, and The Cult, all while dropping acid on the beaches of LA. They were also one of the first bands to blend elements of eastern philosophy into their lyrics. This helped to set them apart from the other hard rock bands that came before them and gave their music a unique flavor that was unlike anything else at the time. They helped to create a sound that had the aggression of hardcore, thrash, and metal, the freaky psychedelia of power pop, and surf-culture zen, and they did not give a single fuck. Ironically, in later years the genre that became known as “Alternative” turned out to be anything but…well, alternative.

The special sauce.

Perry Farrell’s unique voice, Eric Avery’s immense bass lines, Dave Navarro’s groove-driven guitar solos, and Stephen Perkins’ world-influenced percussion created an indelible mark on the music industry with ‘Nothing’s Shocking.’ I saw the video for Mountain Song while at Chicho’s Pizza in VA Beach during the summer of 1989 just as I graduated from college. Love at first listen, I couldn’t put my finger on who they sounded like, where they came from, why they were wearing leather, lipstick, and where did they get the freaky dreadlocks? All mysteries.

The first time I saw Jane’s Addiction was at the Boathouse on my birthday in 1989. I was wasted, and it was a blur, but it set a high bar. My second show was in April of 1991 – a welcome home gift for my buddies Russ and Scott, who had just come back from Saudi/Dessert Storm. Then there was the first Lollapalooza in August of 1991. I’ll never forget it. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen before. The energy was palpable. You could feel the heat emanating from the stage and from every gland of the hopped-up crowd in the August humidity, no concessions, no water on site, and the sweat of the other 20K+ people there. The band was on fire and the crowd was eating it up. That was my first exposure to NIN as well. Everybody was churning and the pit was pretty much the front 3/4 of the audience. It was a religious experience, and I felt like I was part of something bigger than myself. With no brakes.

Chaos and Order, but mostly Chaos

Jane’s Addiction perfectly blends chaos and order. Their music is complex and layered, but there’s an underlying simplicity to it as well. There’s groove. There’s swagger and swing and drumming almost impossibly in-pocket. It’s easy to get lost in their sound. And when you add in the visual, manic element of their live show, it’s sex, drugs, and sensory overload in all the best ways.

It’s difficult to pinpoint exactly what it is that makes the band’s chemistry so special. On paper, they shouldn’t work well together. Farrell, the group’s primary songwriter and frontman, is a self-proclaimed “pleasure seeker” who lives for the moment; Perkins is the quiet, introspective type who often keeps to himself; Avery is an outspoken political activist with a dry sense of humor, and Navarro is a former child actor who battled addiction for years. But when they come together to play music, something clicks and they become greater than the sum of their parts.

The band first formed in 1986 out of the ashes of Farrell’s previous group, Psi Com. They quickly established themselves as one of the most exciting up-and-coming bands on the Los Angeles rock scene thanks to their fierce live shows and unique blend of punk, metal, and funky psychedelia. After releasing their debut album Nothing Shocking in 1988, they toured incessantly, building up a dedicated following who were drawn to Farrell’s hedonistic lifestyle and often outrageous onstage antics (which frequently involved stripping down to his birthday suit).

But it was with Ritual de lo Habitual that Jane’s Addiction truly hit their stride creatively. Mature and more reflective than past efforts, the album spawned the massive radio hit “Been Caught Stealing” and catapulted the band to mainstream success. However, tensions within the group were also running high at this point, and came to a head during their now legendary Lollapalooza performance in 1991, cementing their reputation and announcing their breakup at the same time.

Their music is intensely personal and yet somehow still universal. There is an intensity to their shows that can be overwhelming, but it is also this intensity that makes them so special.

I’ve seen them many times over the years, but it’s always special when they play with the original lineup. There’s just something about that chemistry that can’t be replicated. It’s truly magical.

It’s rare for a band to be able to go 30 years without recording together and still be explosive on stage when they play live. This is due in part to the fact that the dynamics of a band can change over time, making it difficult for them to recapture the magic they had in the past. This is something that Jane’s Addiction has been able to do, due in part to their chemistry which is still as strong as ever. Despite their infrequent recordings, the band always manages to put on an amazing show when they play live. This is a testament to the power of their music and the importance of chemistry in creating great art.

Fast Forward to 2022

Following the band’s extended hiatus in 2021, Billy Corgan confirmed that he was working on a new Smashing Pumpkins album and tour. On May 11th, 2022, the Smashing Pumpkins announced the Spirits on Fire Tour, a 32-date trek across America with Jane’s Addiction that will begin in Dallas and will end in Los Angeles at the Hollywood Bowl (October 2nd to November 19th).

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The flame that burns twice as bright…

Throughout history, there have been many incredibly talented musicians who died tragically young. While the circumstances of their deaths vary, they all had one thing in common: they were 27 years old when they died. This age has become known as the “27 Club.” While it might sound like something you would want to consider, keep in mind that the prerequisites for inclusion are both fame and premature death.

Since the 27 Club was first hypothesized in the mid-sixties, many famous artists, actors, and authors have died at that age, with some significant numbers of musicians facing the same fate, particularly in the ten months spanning 1969-1970. Some people say it’s just a coincidence, but others believe there must be a reason for so many artists dying at 27. Is 27 the age when many people reach their creative peak? Could the “rock and roll lifestyle” account for these deaths? If so, what can be done to prevent other young stars from meeting the same fate?

The flame that burns twice as bright burns half as long. – Lao Tzu

The 27 Club is a term that was first used in an obituary for Brian Jones, a founding member of the Rolling Stones. Jones died at 27 years old from drowning in his swimming pool. Since then, many other famous musicians have also died at 27, including Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Karen Carpenter, Kurt Cobain, and Amy Winehouse.

The 27 Club is often thought of as a myth and has been debunked in a few studies, but there is some evidence to suggest that there may be something to it. A study of more than 2,000 musicians found that their risk of death was three times higher than the general population. And while most people die from natural causes, many of the 27 Club members died from overdoses, suicides, and accidents.

Too young, too famous, too soon?

So why are so many musicians dying so tragically young? The first notation of a popular musician dying at such a young age dates back to 1938 when the “father of the blues” Robert Johnson died. Some say it’s because they’re living on the edge, always pushing themselves to the limit. Others believe that 27 is simply a cursed age. But whatever the reason, it’s clear that the 27 Club is more than just a coincidence. It’s a tragic reminder of the fragility of life.

Many young musicians are not prepared for the level of fame and fortune that they achieve. They may not know how to handle the money or the pressure that comes with being in the spotlight. This can lead to problems like drug abuse, anxiety, and depression. In some cases, it can even lead to death. Alcohol, drugs, and the loneliness of the road lead many artists to drink excessively, like Ron “Pigpen” McKernan from the Grateful Dead and Amy Winehouse, who shared the common fate of alcohol poisoning at age 27.

Famous artists are more prone to depression and mental health issues for several reasons.

1. They may not have a support system in place to help them deal with the stresses of fame and fortune.
2. They may be under a lot of pressure to maintain their level of success.
3. They may feel isolated from the rest of the world while on the road and away from family and friends.
4. They may be unable to handle the criticism that comes with being in the public eye.
5. They may have difficulty dealing with personal relationships.
6. They may be suffering from physical or mental health problems that are exacerbated by their lifestyle. Many times these conditions exist as undiagnosed until it’s too late.

For performing musicians, touring can be exhausting, and it’s important to take time to recover between shows. The music industry can become a churn of fast food, long bus rides between shows, sleeping in vans, and enjoying the spoils of their success. On to the next city, rinse and repeat.

I hope I (don’t) die before I get old.

While the 27 Club is tragic and spoken about in hushed tones, it’s important to remember that the artists who died at this age were incredibly talented and left behind a legacy that has inspired other musicians for generations. We remember them mostly for their music and not for their tragic deaths.

Most musicians are aware of the 27 Club, yet find themselves powerless to avoid becoming a part of it. For some, the very idea of dying young becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. Others may simply be unable to escape the destructive lifestyle that claims so many young lives. It’s also possible they may simply be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Ironically, Pete Townshend who famously wrote the lyric “I hope I die before I get old” is now comfortably happy this didn’t happen to him, as he eases into his late seventies, still performing around the world as one of the most successful rock performers/composers in the history of popular music.

No assurance of insurance.

Musicians frequently face unique challenges when it comes to health care and insurance. Because they are self-employed, they are not always eligible for traditional health insurance plans. And even if they can get coverage, the costs can be prohibitive.

One way to overcome these obstacles is to join a professional organization like the American Federation of Musicians. The AFM offers health insurance plans specifically designed for musicians and can help with the costs of care.

Resources that can help.

While it is true that many musicians have died young, some available resources can help them live long and healthy lives by making the music they love despite these challenges.

First, they can reach out to organizations like MusiCares, which provides financial and emotional support to musicians in need. According to their site, “MusiCares helps the humans behind the music because music gives so much to the world. Offering preventive, emergency, and recovery programs, MusiCares is a safety net supporting the health and welfare of the music community.”

Second, they can seek out counseling or therapy from professionals who understand the unique stresses of their lifestyle. Finally, they can connect with other musicians who have been through similar experiences and can offer advice and support.

While there is no one reason why famous artists are more likely to die young, it is clear that they face unique challenges. With the right support system in place, however, they can overcome these challenges and live long, healthy lives.

Defying the 27 Club

While the 27 Club is often spoken about in hushed tones, it’s important to remember that the artists who died at this age were incredibly talented and left behind a legacy that has inspired other musicians for generations. We remember them not only for their music but also for their tragic deaths.

I think it’s important to note those who have cheated time and are still performing. Many musicians have enjoyed long and successful careers well into their 70s and 80s. Paul McCartney, Mick Jagger/Keith Richards, Pete Townshend, Eric Clapton, Jeff Beck, and Rod Stewart are just a few of the musicians who have lived long and produced amazing music well into their later years.

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I have a friend that found himself short of breath and cramping painfully in the chest and left arm. They rushed him into the hospital, then found the best specialist in the particular heart condition that he discovered he had. This specialist was states away, and as a precaution the airlines and doctors insisted that he use a wheelchair to and from the airport.

Most people, including my friend, don’t think of wheelchair use as a constant condition. It doesn’t just come and go like poison ivy, it doesn’t heal like a broken toe or regenerate like an alligator’s tail. The damage is done. Except in precautionary cases, like my friend, who was directed by his doctor. He would surely walk again. But on that trip through the airport in New York, he got a taste of what I see almost every day.

People naturally avert their eyes. I make them uncomfortable the closer I get. I’ve seen people literally cross the street to avoid walking close to me…as if I were horribly deformed or a panhandler. I’m obviously neither of those things.

My friend saw this immediately in that airport. People don’t want to engage in conversation, smile, offer small talk, “how’s it going?” – you become invisible. I would go so far as to say I could roll around buck naked and people wouldn’t even notice.  Don’t worry, I’m not actually going to be the first paraplegic streaker, just illustrating my point.

The next time you see someone in a wheelchair, don’t assume there is anything “wrong” with them. Their legs don’t work, but their personalities and sense of humor and capacity for love and companionship are their super powers.

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1994 was an incredible year for movies, and I wasn’t sure what the common link was between some of the most impactful things I “discovered” during that year. I think I saw True Romance first, then Reservoir Dogs, and shortly after Natural Born Killers. They were raw. They didn’t pull punches, and you HAD to pay attention to ride the script like a rollercoaster…and if you left the theater to take a leak or buy popcorn for three minutes, you REALLY missed something. Chances are, you missed a number of things, and it was hard to catch up once you lost your place.

I’d loved that aspect of the Coen Brothers’ work, beginning with Raising Arizona, with respect to the writing and the principal that every line in the movie meant something – it was witty, sarcastic, and dry storytelling, but it all meant something. I had seen Raising Arizona and couldn’t get enough of it. Then Hudsucker Proxy got me. Very campy and fun, and the writing was razor-sharp, the direction was satisfying and the acting was tongue-in-cheek but brilliant at the same time.

Around that same time, I discovered Quinton Tarantino. It was brutal and honest, and pulled no punches in visual aesthetic, or in writing. The whole idea that you could use the same troop of actors, give or take some, seemed to me unique outside of comedy troops, from Monty Python to Saturday Night Live, to Second City. But the actors that Tarantino worked with became synonymous with his edgy storytelling and rock solid writing. I couldn’t get enough. I watched Reservoir Dogs again, and soon after discovered other movies that struck me as similar but not quite as over the top original. True Romance and Natural Born Killers were both written by Tarantino and had the same brutal, airtight storytelling that I loved immediately.

Then there were the soundtracks. Each was unique and really moved the story forward. They were diverse, each unique, and driven by extremes (Nine Inch Nails in Natural Born Killers) that complimented the extremes in the narrative. Shit List by L7, playing while Juliette Lewis and Woody Harrelson brutalized the guys at a truck stop…genius. It was apparent that Tarantino saw music as propulsion for the story, as opposed to the backdrop of acceptable melodies to paint his story on top of. The tunes were the gas that drove the scenes.

I don’t think it was a coincidence that The Crow came out the same year, another hallmark of brutal action driven by an amazing soundtrack. Not in the same league in terms of writing and script, but the movie had the perfect soundtrack and characters to grab you by the balls and “dream the crow like dream” as the Cure sang in the opening sequence.

Then came Pulp Fiction. To this day, easily in my favorite 5 movies ever made, if not my #1 favorite. I loved that Tarantino resurrected the careers of some of his heroes like John Travolta and Bruce Willis (who had been out of favor after Hudson Hawk). The ensemble in that movie was perfectly cast. Not a weak link in the bunch, not a wasted scene, word, pause between words…all masterfully crafted into multiple story-lines that somehow came together in the end like the perfect punchline. How does he think in such big broad strokes, write with such abandon, and weave all this together at the right pace and timing to punch you in the gut no matter how many times you see it? That’s the secret sauce. Again, the soundtrack was on-point and carefully chosen.

So I bought the DVD’s because I KNEW I would watch these movies over and over, and I needed to be able to see them when I wanted. I think I even had some on Laser Disc at one point. The collection was started. I owned all Coen Brothers, Tarantino, a good number of Oliver Stone’s movies, and later collected Guy Ritchie movies with the same abandon.

Years go by, then “Director’s Cut” editions came out with bonus features, featurettes, interviews, etc. Fast forward years later, blu-ray came out. Bought them all again. The limited/anniversary edition blu-rays, and now…4K UHD blu-rays. How many times have I purchased Pulp Fiction? VHS(x2), DVD, expanded DVD, Laserdisc before that, blu-ray, anniversary edition blu-ray, and now in the blu-ray box set (pictured above). 4K has been ordered and is on the way. Anybody need one?

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