Jane’s Addiction | Humanist
O2 Apollo, Manchester
2nd June 2024
The Los Angeles Quartet that made a big noise in the 90s have returned to Manchester with the original lineup, hotly anticipated and widely loved, will it be the point of no return or return of the Mac? MK Bennett investigates.
To some of us, for some of us, Janes’s Addiction encompasses perfection. They hold the unexplainable myth, the devilish voodoo of something from just beyond standard comprehension. They, and Perry in particular have enjoyed playing around with this over the years, abusing and confusing the myth, adding to it, taking from it but never allowing the fog of it, the illusion of it, to disappear. Whatever they have done, and there have been a lot of extracurricular public projects, the tacit understanding held strong that you do not piss on the JA integrity, the ironclad cool that dressed in black and enveloped the band, particularly the original line-up, that allowed them carte blanche to overachieve on a regular and pharmaceutically unfortunate basis.
Not every remembrance of things past is pure nostalgia, there’s the acceptance of the evolution of culture, time, memory, and your loved ones slipping away, most of which has a soundtrack, your soundtrack, and for some of us, the music of our lives was given meaning, a realisation of hearing beauty, by Jane’s Addiction. To paraphrase John Lennon, before this, there was nothing.
Humanist, in support, have a lot of friends if the list of album guests from Wikipedia is anything to go by, and this extends to the audience, who show warm appreciation throughout their set. They play an updated gothic glamour, The Chameleons meets The Sisters Of Mercy, California-style. They play with enough volume, verve and self-contained swagger that despite the limited backdrop, they still impress. The last song in particular, English Ghosts was excellent, an elegy for those present and not present.
The atmosphere was high, almost feral as if the innocent had been released from jail and sent straight to the O2 Apollo, anticipation impossibly high to see the original lineup of Jane’s back together. Social groups not seen together in years reunited, maybe for the last time, hugging and crying in the streets, because this means something, and it may be the last eclipse seen.
The venue is packed but this grand old Dame of Mancunian nightlife seems appropriate, as ungraciously ageing is in power for a few hours at least, forget your broken bodies, once more into the mosh pit my friends. Jane’s Addiction walk on stage to a roar not heard here in a while, heroes returning from private wars to enchant us into the darkness again, when Eric A starts the intro to Up The Beach, the first song from the seminal Nothings Shocking, and hell breaks loose in our heads and front of the stage, as your DNA moves backwards three decades, the beautifully over loud and perfect sound drowning you in the now and the past, simultaneously. They cannot pull off multi-dimensional time travel, but if any band could…and look around you, eyes closed and raised to the heavens, like the rhapsody has come. For some it has, but it turned out to have nothing to do with God.
Headlong into whor*s, a song from the occasionally brilliant first album, a fairly straightforward rock song of high calibre, where that note-perfect sound mix is noticeable, where every instrument is crystal clear and ringing including Perry’s voice, an instrument in the band the same way as the others, when his little bag of electronic tricks manipulates his vocal William Burroughs cut-up style, to contribute to the harmonious whole.
Had A Dad breaks the emotional banks of the room, the presumed change in familial history hits directly with the sound of the song itself, a plea of remembrance to identify with and a great song to dance yourself stupid to as well, Dave Navarro’s solo breaking several hearts. Ain’t No Right, a favourite from their other immaculate album Ritual De Lo Habitual, fair romps through its few minutes, punk-like stance and propulsion. Eric A, the star of this one too, does not so much play the bass as he looms over it like a vampire, extracting blood
1% is a rarely played older track, which bobs and weaves and shimmies across the stage like a snake stalking prey, a glistening 80’s machine, still in excellent condition, like the cast of The Expendables or Imminent Redemption, is either brand new or an old song we have never heard before, either way, it is fabulous, Perry speaking in tongues beforehand about world affairs, because some things never change, another rocker of a quality that’s indistinct from the classics on the setlist. Jane’s are one of the few bands that could have done a different setlist completely and it would have been equally as good. Barring Three Days, which like the ravens in the tower, must never be removed.
Ted, Just Admit It, another superlative and perfect piece of music, originally about Ted Bundy, but now a little distance and far too many songs about serial killers, it has become a song about other things, the voice now blurred into dissonance, obscuring the words and the original meaning, the music still as onomatopoeic as ever, violent, slashing genius, that becomes relentless eventually. Spectacular.
Jane Says does not need Perry as the crowd, the whole crowd, sing along with him, note for note, this acoustic wonder with that great line, the other side of the coin to the famous Wichita Lineman chorus, the brutally truthful “ I want them if they want me, I only know they want me “ sang with a lot more history and meaning than any of us would have liked, but no less enjoyable for it.
Then She Did, on record, a sort of LA Punk Fiddler On The Roof, becomes a behemoth that flows like Spaceman Three or Spiritualized, with great ebbs and waves of sound and feedback breaking the skull open, before retreating and again into the breach. It is draining, gloriously so. The musicianship is sharp and tight like a bulletproof Saville Row suit. Into the final straight now, Been Caught Stealing, the best-known track by those who don’t know is taut and lean, hungry like a fighting dog in peak condition, all words known and sang, a celebration of our band, our combined and intertwined histories.
Ocean Size, the first song proper on Nothings Shocking, is so big, so expansive that it feels like it hits the back wall and comes back, echoes of music just passed, radiating love and want, the desire to be left alone in space, too big to be touchable, “ Wish I was Ocean Size, they cannot move me “ but move us they do, as the breakdown explodes in firework sound, everything hitting everything at once.
Stop! is the last song before the encore, an upbeat stomper in the style of Been Caught Stealing, showing off the brilliance and timing of Stevie Perkins on drums, a man fit to be a king, with a wondrous ability to swing not just hit, and proof of the adage that any band is only as good as their drummer. Jane’s are only and can only be at 100% with this lineup because of the chemistry, the thing that sets them apart, that indefinable magic, like The Clash or The Smiths, needs these four people to achieve it. Anything else is just a good band playing songs, and that’s easy enough to find.
The encore is Three Days, one of if not THE song of Alt Rock history. A mystical piece in several stages, layers of building, the high water mark against which all rock but -not – metal songs will be judged, it is a masterpiece. To be glib, it is their Stairway, their Bohemian Rhapsody, their Comfortably Numb. It defines them and quite a few of us. Once again tonight, it is breathtaking, and by the time we reach the transcendence of the middle eight, people are genuflecting like sinners in a preacher’s tent, waiting to be saved. Only the sweat that drips from the walls will be able to tell this story and those of us who were there. Only Mountain Song can realistically follow, and like a flooded stream, it brings us back to earth to sing along with Perry, a reminder of the first time we might have heard them, late 80’s radio, the best selection of those starved and starving times. Still, an untouchable rock classic that would fill any dancefloor, and it sounds brand new, an old Mustang back on the road.
Finally, we have big toms, and big drums brought out onstage for Chip Away, for the tribal reenactment, Dave, Eric and Stevie play while Perry improvises and manipulates the famous voice box of electronic mystery to the heavens and back. Just drums and voice, are a powerful and direct way to finish, and the exhausted audience is grateful for a respite, a moment to collect themselves.
No one needs to tell how special this was, we know, and we knew. It was a premonition that happened. They were the best of everything. Then they’re gone, our saviours past, back into the night. We may never see their like again, at least not in this lifetime, in which case. THANK YOU BOYS!
Please note: Use of these images in any form without permission is illegal. If you wish to contact the photographer please email: mel@mudkissphotography.co.uk
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Janes Addiction can be found at their Website | Facebook | Instagram and X
All words by MK Bennett, you can find his author’s archive here plus his Twitter and Instagram
All photos by Melanie Smith – Louder Than War | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Portfolio
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