POP MUSIC REVIEW : Jane’s AddictionPuts a Foot in Its Mouth

Like most great L.A. rock bands of the last 25 years, Jane’s Addiction--which headlined the first of three sold-out nights Tuesday at the Hollywood Palladium--chronicles a kind of aimless moral drift often viewed as endemic, if hardly exclusive, to this area.

The group’s unique X-meets-Zeppelin stomps are matched with lyrics in which singer Perry Farrell does an unusually sensitive job of sketching life without a working compass. “Been Caught Stealing” is an unabashed ode to shoplifting. “Ain’t No Right” suggests that life is without ethical absolutes, only “pleasure and pain.” This material is all curiously unemotional for music so physically, post-punkishly aggressive.

But with the funky rhythm section of drummer Stephen Perkins and bassist Eric Avery and guitar by Dave Navarro that has Jimmy Page-like, metallic sweep and grandeur--in addition to Farrell’s not inconsiderable Plant-ish howl, nearly as powerful at half the range--Jane’s Addiction packs more visceral punch than just about anything else on the radio right now. Their tight musical ship crashes waves with an even greater false sense of reckless abandon than funk/metal contemporaries like Faith No More.

By all rights, their live shows ought to be thoroughly intoxicating.

Unfortunately, each time Farrell opened his mouth to speak Tuesday, he came off as such a pretentious, profane, ill-informed Valley lad that it nearly spoiled any illusion about this being a significant band with useful ideas to impart. His bandmates ought to slap a gag order on him.

In true alternative-band-goes-gold fashion, Farrell mocked the band’s recent success (which includes an album, “Ritual de lo Habitual,” that reached the national Top 20). “Hey, will you hate us if we’re popular?” he teasingly asked. But at times it seemed as if the success really has given him a Bono-like swelled sense of importance.

“There must be a reason why,” he mused about fate’s role in their success--usually a bad question for any performer to start asking himself. He settled on a reason: “Can we spread some truth around here? Can we talk about the war?” And with that, the erstwhile amoralist began looking for his compass, bringing an otherwise fine show to a thudding halt every time he launched into a new monologue.

The singer devoted two rambling speeches to advising youngsters to stay out of the military. He repeatedly invoked the spirit of the ‘60s: “What happened, Timothy Leary? What happened, Jerry Garcia? . . . Let’s show ‘em a heavy movement.” So far so reasonable.

But it’s not that Farrell is actually opposed to killing Iraqis--just to doing it in person. “There’s no need to fight hand to hand,” he explained, suddenly a strategist. “They don’t need our help. They have missiles that can do the job, so have a good time and stay home.” Farrell then went on to mock Barbara Bush’s looks at great, tasteless length.

At that point the wiry, dreadlocked singer got smacked in the head by a shoe thrown from the audience, about which he complained at even greater length, unappreciative of the irony that he who lives by the missile dies by the missile.

It’s this kind of loutish thinking out loud--with a muddle-headed mix of hippie-ism, hedonism and insults--that makes Axl Rose sound like a politically informed intellectual by comparison.

But if Farrell could keep his foot out of his kisser and just sing --and certainly he’s a properly agitated, powerful front man when he gets to business--the Jane’s Addiction show would be a consistent display of force instead of a spotty ride.

Following a puerile, unremarkable opening set by Primus, surprise added attraction the Pixies turned in a fun 40-minute set full of favorites not played at their headlining Universal Amphitheatre show last week. They, like Jane’s Addiction, abbreviated their set because of the projectile factor.