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Rating: It was easy to feel disappointed at the end of the recent Jane's Addiction concert in Milan: an hour and a half that gave the impression of a well-done but effortless task, Navarro being technically impeccable but not very involved, Perry Farrell underwhelming both vocally and in stage presence (stereotypical jokes about shopping in Milan and Italian pizza) and a general atmosphere of a circus sideshow, consisting of dancers somewhat aged by time, with choreographies only seemingly transgressive and instead bordering on sad comedy.
Then days pass and I think instead about what I saw and especially heard: the full rendition of "Ritual de lo habitual" with songs that, unbelievably, not only set the stage for alternative rock before grunge but still today appear current, alive, and unsurpassable in their evocative power.
And then off with Navarro's riffs on "Stop!", "No One's Leaving" and "Ain't No Right", not supported by optimal sound quality, finally improving with "Obvious" and the famous "Been Caught Stealing" which definitively ignites the audience.
We move to the second part of the album, my favorite, a completely different world tinged with psychedelia: the long ride of "Three Days", the emotion of the splendid "Then She Did..." dedicated to Farrell's suicidal mother, the gypsy atmospheres of "Of Course" and the ballad "Classic Girl". Navarro is indeed cold but he doesn't miss a note, and oh what notes, and he is so unique and imitated that you can hear his style in all the clones that came after him (what a mistake the Red Hot made abandoning him!). Perkins is an equally unique drummer and the fittest of the night, well supported by the now permanent replacement of Avery, Chris Chaney, reproducing those hypnotic bass lines indebted to the best Peter Hook.
After a tribute to Bowie with a conventional and forgettable "Rebel Rebel", we move to a solid "Mountain Song", the only concession to recent productions "Just Because" and on "Ted, Just Admit it.." the only truly disturbing performance in Jane style with two performers literally hanging with their piercings from cables, spinning around to the screams of "Sex is violent" (a girl in front of me fainted).
It could only end with their anthem "Jane Says" and the entire audience delirious to sing it with them.
So what remains? Could I have expected to see the transgression and "confused state" of the early 90s, the Alternative Nation without a tomorrow, when each of us growing up, necessarily can no longer be what we used to be like an eternal teenager? My expectations were wrong and unfair; seeing them today means accepting that rock survives not because it always rehashes its clichés of "sex, drugs, and death" but also because there is someone, like Jane's, to remind us and especially to still play those songs that made history not only in music but in part of our lives. And that is more than enough.
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