If there was one album above all others that defined alternative rock in the late ’80s, it was Nothing’s Shocking by Jane’s Addiction.
At that time there were numerous bands exploring new forms of rock music — Pixies, Butthole Surfers, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Ministry, Sonic Youth, Dinosaur Jr., Faith No More and the rising stars of the nascent Seattle scene.
But it was Jane’s Addiction — the weirdest band in Los Angeles — who emerged as the standard-bearers for alternative rock.
Released in 1988, Nothing’s Shocking was the most powerful rock ’n’ roll record since Guns N’ Roses’ Appetite For Destruction a year earlier.
But what Jane’s Addiction had was a whole different trip to GN’R.
There was an art-rock sensibility at the core of Nothing’s Shocking, a taste for strangeness and exotica. The band’s palette extended from Led Zeppelin-inspired riffing to the post-punk of Joy Division, The Cure and PiL, from goth rock to funk, dub reggae and swinging jazz.
As Jane’s Addiction’s singer Perry Farrell said in 1988: “We started from the street and worked our way up. So, you get that attitude.
“And when it boils down to it, we don’t really care what people think. I’m doing what I like to do.”
He also stated that he was more than ready for fame.
“In the rock ’n’ roll field,” he said, “I pretty much have it made, because the more arrogant a person is in rock ’n’ roll, the more hyped they are.”
Born Perry Bernstein on 29, March 1959 in Queens, New York, Farrell first made a name for himself on the LA rock scene in 1981 as the frontman for Psi Com, a post-punk band that gigged with other underground acts such as the Chili Peppers and X.
But by 1985, Psi Com had made just one E.P., and Farrell, in his mid-20s, was running out of time if he was going to realise the grand vision in his head.
“I wanted to be in a great group that would alter the history of music,” he recalled. “A band that would change the rotation of the Earth.”
He formed a new group, eventually settling on a four-man line-up with guitarist Dave Navarro, bassist Eric Avery and drummer Stephen Perkins.
The band were named after Jane Bainter, with whom Farrell shared a house in Hollywood.
“We had so much fun in that place,” Farrell said. “It was one of the greatest times of my life — one of the happiest times I can remember.”
For three years, Jane’s Addiction played in clubs. The band was, like Psi Com before it, a part of what Farrell referred to as “the underground Los Angeles” — a bohemian freak scene in which musicians mixed with artists of all kinds.
“The underground was where I wanted to be,” he said. “That’s where the intelligentsia was, where the gay people were, the madmen and the junkies, and I loved them all.”
Farrell wanted his new band to revolutionise rock music. “Rock ’n’ roll had been around for thirty years,” he said. “It was almost impossible to come up with a new sound, a new way.
“But I had to have it. We had to do it. And what happened was, I saw what I didn’t like.”
When Jane’s Addiction were a club act, Mötley Crüe were the biggest stars of the LA music scene. The two bands had one thing in common — drugs. Beyond that, they were worlds apart.
“You could be a good musician,” Farrell said, “but if you were writing about crap, like you’re in league with the Devil, and you looked like some whore on Hollywood Boulevard, I couldn’t have cared less. With hair metal, there was no ingenuity.”
What Farrell loved was the heavy rock of the ’70s: Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath, Bad Company — what he called “the great, true rock music”.
This classic rock influence was evident on the first album recorded by Jane’s Addiction. Released via independent label Triple X in May 1987, this self-titled album was cut live at Hollywood club The Roxy and included versions of The Rolling Stones’ Sympathy For The Devil and the Velvet Underground’s Rock & Roll.
Also featured were two songs that would be remade for Nothing’s Shocking: Pigs In Zen and Jane Says.
The live album was a marker. As Farrell said in 1988: “We could establish our style, and record companies would know who we were.”
When the band subsequently signed to the Warner Brothers label for what was reportedly one of the largest advances of the time — $300,000 — Jane’s Addiction were soon being touted as the next big band to come out of LA after Guns N’ Roses.
But Farrell wasn’t flattered by the comparison. “To be honest,” he said, “we kind of put our noses in the air at Guns N’ Roses.”
For Farrell, being the hot new thing in LA wasn’t enough.
“I saw us as part of this line,” he said. “A line that went from The Beatles and the Stones and Led Zeppelin and The Who to The Clash and Siouxsie And The Banshees and Joy Division.”
And with Nothing’s Shocking, Farrell set out to blow people’s minds. “We wanted this record to sound like it was from outer space.”
Farrell had no doubt about what set Jane’s Addiction apart from every other rock band of the era.
“I have a very identifiable voice,” he said. “It’s a unique sound, the divinity of my vocal cords. In that sense I was gifted with this beautiful luxury. So everything I built around it was to protect the integrity of that voice.
“Don’t get me wrong,” he said. “My band were great players.”
But his phrasing was telling: “My band.”
What they created on Nothing’s Shocking was rock music of startling originality and eclecticism.
“I never wanted to write a song like somebody else’s song,” Farrell said. “I wanted to add something – like, let’s add salt to the caramel.
“You’re a scientist. You know that when you put different ingredients together, they’re combustible.
“So you combine rock and reggae and electronics – those are the three main ingredients I worked with on Nothing’s Shocking.”
At its core, this was a hard rock record. There were echoes of Zeppelin in Mountain Song and Pigs In Zen, while Jane Says was a simple acoustic track with a ‘60s folk-rock feel.
The reggae influence in the song Ted, Just Admit It… came from dub masters such as King Tubby and Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry.
“Dub reggae,” Farrell said, “is beautiful, spiritual.”
There was a hazy, psychedelic beauty to Summertime Rolls; a funk propulsion to Standing In The Shower… Thinking.
And what Farrell said in 1988 — that his hero, unlikely as it seemed, was Frank Sinatra — was borne out in Thank You Boys, a tongue-in-cheek homage to the golden age of swing.
Farrell’s lyrics were as unique as his voice.
He explained the meaning in certain songs. Had A Dad was a meditation on God: about life, as he described it, as “a transference of energy through semen”. And then there was Ted, Just Admit It…
One of America’s most infamous mass murderers, Ted Bundy, was on death row when this song was recorded.
Farrell said: “It’s called Ted, Just Admit It… because he has never admitted to his guilt – even though his bite marks were on the bodies of the women he bludgeoned to death.”
Farrell also revealed that Mountain Song was written, in oblique terms, about his mother’s suicide. “The song goes: ‘Cash in now, honey… Cash in Miss Smith.’ Cashing in is taking your own life, and Miss Smith was my mother’s maiden name.”
What he remembered most clearly about the making of Nothing’s Shocking was the spirit of adventure in the band.
“We were young people in our twenties,” he said. “And at that age, you’re rolling dice, you’re taking risks. If it fails, it’s not too bad because you don’t have too far to fall. You have all the energy in the world to stay up for days at a time and you wouldn’t even feel it.”
And yet, even at this early stage, Farrell had sensed that in his desire to have things his way, he was isolating himself.
“If I had seen it as my band,” he said, “we probably wouldn’t have fought so much. But in the end, I must have my way. I should have been a solo artist, but people love groups.
“I remember recording my vocals without the band. There was already a strain and a separation beginning to happen. And that was going on while we were making the album…”
Nothing’s Shocking was released on 23 August, 1988.
A review in Rolling Stone stated: “The band is great and full of shit — often at the same time.”
Most other critics hailed the album as a modern rock masterpiece. But great press could only get them so far.
One month before the release of Nothing’s Shocking, Guns N’ Roses hit the top of the US chart with Appetite For Destruction. Nothing’s Shocking peaked at No.103.
Part of the problem was the album’s cover, which featured a piece of artwork made by Farrell — a pair of female conjoined twins, naked, with breasts exposed and their heads on fire. It was modelled on the singer’s girlfriend, Casey Niccoli.
“It came from a dream,” he said. “I saw this girl, a Siamese twin. I say ‘girl’ because it’s one being, almost. She’s on a swing and her hair is on fire. It just came around when it was needed.”
In the US, nine out of the 11 leading music retailers refused to stock the album. Similarly problematic was the video for the album’s first single, Mountain Song. It contained scenes of Farrell and Niccoli lying nude on a bed, and was banned by MTV.
The first-year sales of Nothing’s Shocking were modest: approximately 200,000 in the US. But it was an album that placed Jane’s Addiction at the forefront of a new era in rock music.
The big breakthrough came with the follow-up, Ritual de lo Habitual. Yielding a minor hit in Been Caught Stealing, the album reached the US top 20 in 1990.
It made Jane’s Addiction the first alternative rock band to find any sort of mainstream success. “But of course,” Farrell said, “it couldn’t last.”
In October 1991, with the singer having developed a crack addiction, he could no longer keep the band together.
“Your bandmates love you when you’re becoming successful,” he said. “But the animosity starts with the wear and tear – hard work and touring. You should feel that you’ve been blessed, but no, you don’t. Your personality starts to change. You become a baby. Selfish. A wise-ass.”
Those clashing personalities brought Jane’s Addiction to a premature end in 1991. Lollapalooza, the music and arts festival founded by Farrell, would be their swansong.
Following that initial split, there were several reunions. An initial comeback album, 2003’s Strays, was belatedly followed in 2011 by the dark and ethereal The Great Escape Artist.
The Jane’s Addiction story ended in Boston on 13 September 2024 when Farrell and Navarro fought onstage — bringing a premature end to that show and to the band itself.
What’s left behind is the music — never more powerful than on Nothing’s Shocking.
“I feel so fortunate that that record was created, Perry Farrell said. “It’s one of the great accomplishments of my lifetime."
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