Dave Navarro
Trust No One

If Dave Navarro had died of a heroin overdose in the years '92 - '93 – which he risked doing on several occasions – he would probably be remembered only as the best guitarist in the world during the mythical five-year period of American alternative rock ('87 - '92), and not for being Carmen Electra's husband today. This assumption is not only due to the media overexposure he benefits from for marrying that unfortunate woman, but also because the artistic performances after '91 of the dark axeman have no longer matched the artistic peaks of masterpieces like “Nothing’s Shocking” or “Ritual de lo habitual.” Although the protagonists of that unique period who have succeeded in maintaining the compositional freshness of that era can be counted less than on one hand, it is often Navarro who is targeted by criticism. He was considered, for instance, the scapegoat of a mediocre album like “One Hot Minute” by RHCP, whereas the only tracks worth saving were those penned by Dave like “Warped” or “Shallow Be Thy Game.” It later became evident what an inglorious end Kiedis and company faced with Frusciante's return. The reason for such acrimony lies in the fact that the personal approach isn't the most favorable for Navarro in recent years.

Dave is no longer the shy architect of exquisite wave-psych styles in the shadow of Perry Farrell, the tormented prodigy who delighted concert audiences hiding behind improbable hats and sunglasses, but often presents himself as the most childish of guitar heroes, starting with the sartorial disasters. His appearances on MTV with Electra have done the rest. However, much to the chagrin of his detractors, he remains one of the best rock musicians, a guitarist capable of sending you into ecstasy with just a touch of his fingernail on the 6-string, and he demonstrated it in his highly underrated 2001 solo record, as well as with Jane's dignified return to their vices.

Far from being a masterpiece, “Trust No One” is nevertheless an extremely varied work, revisiting many pages of Jane’s Addiction through the prism of the '90s (tracks like “Everything” or “Not For Nothing” are clearly inspired by Nine Inch Nails). Blessed with a decent vocal talent (unlike Frusciante, whose solo albums sound like they come from my grandmother's intercom), Navarro is also adept at not indulging in those boring solos that often fill the solo works of many guitarists but always seeks to create effects functional to the success of the piece. Emblematic in this sense is the opener “Rexall,” where the guitar's impetus is transfigured into an appealing psychedelic mantra. But the entire first side is a brilliant grunge-Hendrixian assault, offering another delightful episode in “Sunny Day.” “Mourning Son” is also remarkable, a touching dedication to his mother (witnessing her murder at 15 in the eerie Los Angeles suburb where he grew up). A track that updates the gothic atmospheres of “Nothing’s Shocking,” creating the ideal follow-up to Alice In Chains' “Dirt,” never achieved by the host of sterile imitators of Layne Staley's band. The second part of “Trust No One” is instead more overtly glam-psychedelic, not only hosting a robust version of “Venus in Furs.” “Avoiding the Angel” is simply exquisite, where Dave concentrates delightful textures and compelling solos into 4 anthology-worthy minutes. The finishing touch is “Slow Motion Sickness.”

A rarefied ballad that drags the listener into murky waters, it is enlivened with the usual Hendrixian influences at the end. A worthy seal to an enjoyable album.