The common understanding of music historians is that, in 1991, grunge torpedoed hair metal and, practically overnight, became the dominant force in rock music.
Jane's Addiction are the band who slightly complicate that simple before-and-after account. On the one hand, their hornt-up hedonism, flamboyant excess, shrieky vocals and technical expertise clearly aligned them with the hair metal acts thriving in Los Angeles at that same point in the '80s. On the other hand, these were art freaks who celebrated outcasts and weirdos with Zeppelin-indebted adventurousness — something that aligns them more closely with the alt-rockers who followed close behind.
The band's initial run lasted only a few years, their breakup apparently hastened by a disastrous agreement in which singer Perry Farrell claimed 62.5 percent of the band's royalties, leaving just 12.5 percent for the other members. Nevertheless, they've persisted, re-emerging in some form or another in every decade since their formation — sometimes with a different rhythm section, usually with new material of some sort, and always with a carnivalesque sense of theatrically.
With the original lineup of Ferrell, guitarist Dave Navarro, bassist Eric Avery and drummer Stephen Perkins having reunited (and with new material in the works), we're celebrating Jane's Addiction by counting down the 10 best songs in their singular discography.
10. "Just Because"
Strays (2003)
After a 13-year gap between albums, Jane's Addiction returned with a streamlined sound in line with the hard rock and nu metal of the era. Strays is nice without being incredibly distinctive — but the hard-charging riffs of "Just Because" rise above the rest of the album on the strength of Perry Farrell's call for self-expression: "When was the last time / You did anything / Not for me / Or anyone else? / Just because."
9. "Been Caught Stealing"
Ritual de lo Habitual (1990)
Leave it to Jane's Addiction to turn a celebration of shoplifting into a radio hit. Dave Navarro chops his way through funky chords that doubtless helped him get hired by the Red Hot Chili Peppers a few years later, while Eric Avery gets right in the (pick)pocket with a juicy bassline, and Perry Farrell's dog Annie captures the rebellious jubilation with what can only be described as an improvised barking solo.
8. "I Would for You"
Jane's Addiction (1987)
Jane's Addiction released a live album before they released a proper studio album, and while they subsequently re-recorded much of it (including one song that appears later on this list), they never did "I Would for You" again. Maybe that's because they also captured it perfectly as a bass-and-vocal ballad, which acts as a testament to Farrell's charisma that he's able to carry such a minimal song.
7. "Summertime Rolls"
Nothing's Shocking (1988)
A six-minute expanse of woozy fuzz and psychedelic sitar, "Summertime Rolls" lives up to the summery brightness of its title thanks to Farrell's sing-song melodies and lovestruck images of frolicking in a field. But, thanks to Navarro's bleary, reverb-drenched tones, it's more of a smoggy, oppressive, sweltering heat than a happy-go-lucky summer vibe.
6. "Ocean Size"
Nothing's Shocking (1988)
Pastoral acoustic arpeggios give way to a towering, fuzzy progression of power chords, but the real key to "Ocean Size" is Farrell's simple yet unique lyrical conceit: he wants to be as immovable as the ocean. "I was made with a heart of stone," he howls, like he's trying to carry his voice across the ocean. "To be broken with one hard blow / I've seen the ocean break on the shore / Come together with no harm done."
5. "Of Course"
Ritual de lo Habitual (1990)
Appearing in the stunning second half of Ritual de lo Habitual, "Of Course" is waltz-time folk strummer that sets a relatable scene: Farrell as a child, getting bullied by his brother grabbing his hands and forcing him to slap himself. ("Why are you hitting yourself?" will forever be an older sibling classic.) But Farrell thrillingly takes it a step further, saying that his brother's bullying was a way of teaching him about the amoral brutality of the natural world. A predator feasting on its prey is, Farrell points out, "a sensation not unlike slapping yourself in the face."
4. "Then She Did..."
Ritual de lo Habitual (1990)
The most heartbreaking song in the JA catalogue finds Farrell comparing his ex-girlfriend Xiola Blue (who had recently died of a heroin overdose) to his mother, who died by suicide when Farrell was three. Farrell describes looking at his mother's paintings, saying that he wishes he could have introduced his mom to his girlfriend. As the the jangling, orchestral song reaches its towering crescendo, Farrell delivers the gut-punch of his comparison between the two women: "She was unhappy just as you were."
3. "Jane Says"
Nothing's Shocking (1988)
A tragedy wrapped up in pop song, "Jane Says" is a character study of Farrell's drug-addicted housemate (the same one who inspired Jane's Addiction's band name) set to a sunny progression of two major chords and a steel drum. It's a devastating depiction of the cycles of addiction and abuse, but even if the promises of "I'm gonna kick tomorrow" are unconvincing, there's still a flicker of hope: maybe, just maybe, things will get better soon.
2. "Ted, Just Admit It..."
Nothing's Shocking (1988)
A cheerful jazz groove from Avery and Perkins sets up an epic that grows increasingly sinister over the course of its seven minutes. Taking its title from Ted Bundy, with a sound clip of the serial killer's denial playing during the intro, it's a prescient examination of the public's fascination with violence, and how technology makes us increasingly numb to it all. "Sex is violent!" Farrell repeatedly screams in the chilling final passage.
1. "Three Days"
Ritual de lo Habitual (1990)
There's nothing Jane's Addiction do better than glamourizing a life of debauchery — and they've never done it better than on "Three Days," the transcendent 11-minute centrepiece of Ritual de lo Habitual. Farrell documents a three-day sex-and-drug binge, Avery's ominous bassline sweetened by Navarro's blissed-out arpeggios, Stephen Perkins's rolling toms patiently propelling the song toward the glorious release of its epic guitar solo.
In a barely-audible spoken-word intro, Farrell quietly lays out the song's seductively dangerous message, which functions as a raison d'être for the band itself: "At this moment, you should be with us, feeling like we do, like you love to — but never will again."