Review: Jane’s Addiction, “Strays”

August 29th, 2003 Posted in Other Reviews

For some reason, throughout Perry Farrell’s career—up to and including reviews for Jane’s Addiction’s new album Strays—critics have insisted in describing the ropey space case as possessing some sort of androgynous quality. I couldn’t tell you which rock critic made the comparison first; all I know is that apparently every other rock critic since was on an impossible last minute deadline when tasked to describe Farrell, and so just flipped to the original review and copied out the description verbatim.

“Farrell pioneered the. . . androgynous gutter-splash posturing that later brought many of his successors fame,” raves Guitar World’s Alan Di Perna. “Elfin and androgynous,” chimes in SPIN from it’s “Ten That Matter Most” article. “fronted by skinny, polymorphous Perry Farrell,” dribbles the latest issue of Rolling Stone. In fact, just look up the words Perry, Farrell and androgynous in google and watch how many entries come up. You’d be harder pressed to find a description of the singer where it wasn’t mentioned.

Can I take the time to deflate this cliche once and for all, please, for the record: wearing lavender pants does not make you androgynous. It makes you gay. To the critics of America: stop insulting women the world over by insinuating they collectively look like a rake-thin mule-faced heroin addict.

To look androgynous means you look indistinguishable sexually as either a man or a women: Dave Foley in a wig looks androgynous. Rosie O’Donnell looks androgynous, even frighteningly so. (Rosie O’donnell first thing in the morning, without the benefit of a shave, is I suspect a different story entirely.)

Perry Farrell, with all due respect to the man as a musical icon, just looks fucking ugly. Perry Farrell is an ugly, ugly man—you go ahead and choose the angle, lighting conditions and speed at which you will race past him as your conditions. At midnight, viewed from the top of a mountain while zooming around in a nitro-boosted race car, Perry Farrell would be mistaken for a woman like I get mistaken for sober. Any rock critic who could look at Farrell and see female qualities has obviously only heard about women through games of “Telephone” at an all-male retreat, or only date women who’ve had their faces elongated by hydraulics while machines suck all the estrogen out of them with a bendy straw. Either that or they just date men in lavender pants, fooling no one.

None of this has anything to do with the new Jane’s Addiction release Strays, of course, which will rock the shit out your CD player and might even kick your TV around a little if you aren’t careful to hide it beforehand. I just wanted to clear up the androgyny thing because it bugs me, and I want critics to stop. I’d also like Jane’s guitarist Dave Navarro to get rid of the pointed goatee, tight leather pants and flippant attitude to shirt-wearing that are his trademarks, since I can’t look at him without thinking I’ve somehow wandered into a male strip club in the middle of the devil’s set. “Up next, ladies… is it getting HOT in here? Giiiiiive it up for the Grrrreat Deceiver, the LORD of DARKNESS fattttther of ALL LIES, he’s here at the Cock Pit all week, give it up forrrr SATTTTTTAN!”

To conclude: New Jane’s album, hide your television from the rocking. Perry Farrell, not a woman, an ugly man. Rock critics, hydocephalic. Dave Navarro, put a fucking shirt on and go to your room until you’re ready to wear Big People clothes. The album, four stars out of a possible five.