Jane’s Addiction Mixes Old and New

In these uncertain and increasingly freaky times, people soothe their nerves with the familiar. For some, it’s comfort food like mashed potatoes and chocolate. For others it was Saturday’s reunion show by hometown heroes Jane’s Addiction, which served a similar purpose for the fans who filled just over half the Hollywood Bowl--once they got past an often unfocused and mercifully truncated set by Courtney Love, that is.

The 90-minute Jane’s performance wasn’t much different from the last reunion in 1997, but the presentation was fresh. This time, leader Perry Farrell wrapped such vintage material as “Ted, Just Admit It” and “Mountain Song” around the typically grand concept of “Jubilee 2001.”

Inspired by a Jewish celebration of emancipation that comes every 50 years, this pocket-size successor to Lollapalooza wasn’t specifically conceived as an antidote to the country’s recent travails. But the ideas of freedom, peace and redemption through music were certainly resonant.

It’s always surprising that the leader of a group so steeped in self-absorbed dementia, twisted Zeppelin riffs and art-rock decadence could be so bent on positivity, but of course it’s a delightfully warped and sexual brand, underscored Saturday by Farrell’s entrance in a billowing white parachute skirt, from which emerged a coterie of half-naked, sinuous dancers.

Farrell radiated a sense of bliss at again joining original guitarist Dave Navarro, doing his best distorto-thunderous Jimmy Page imitations, and drummer Stephen Perkins. The lineup also included bassist Martyn LeNoble, from Farrell’s group Porno for Pyros, and a supplementary keyboardist.

The kitchen-sink stage decor had neon-tipped streamers, laser and strobe lights and an American flag in the background. The dancers wore a array of elaborate costumes as they undulated on stage, above the crowd and in a revolving swing set.

A glow-in-the-dark carnival of stilt-walking jugglers and more dancers manipulating umbrellas, beach balls and Hula-Hoops distracted the audience while the group retired to a smaller stage in the middle of the amphitheater.

There they offered stripped-down renditions of the decadent heartbreak anthem “Jane Says” and Porno’s “Pets,” joined by that group’s guitarist, Peter DiStefano. Navarro also briefly got the spotlight, singing one of his solo tunes.

England’s Stereo MC’s set an appropriately techno-tribal mood with their energetic, 40-minute opening set, but all the surprises came from Love’s one-off appearance.

The singer-guitarist--backed by Patty Schemel (the drummer from her band Hole), Redd Kross guitarist Steve McDonald, guitarist Kenny Korade and bassist Jerry Best--certainly didn’t need any Cirque du Soleil-style trappings, providing enough spectacle on her own.

In jeans, a flowing, midriff-baring shirt and wildly curly hair, she affected a hard-rock gypsy-woman persona blending such iconic ‘70s-era figures as Steven Tyler, Robert Plant and Stevie Nicks. Love playfully introduced her ensemble as Molly Hatchet, chastised people for eating during her set, tossed a pumpkin from the stage, danced with audience members and jokingly mocked Farrell.

And--oh yeah!--she offered such sprawling new numbers as the crunching, Zeppelin-esque rocker “All the Drugs in the World” and the thrashing “But Julian, I’m a Little Older Than You,” along with Hole’s “Asking for It” and “Malibu.” The new material would have benefited from more focus, and all the selections could have used some actual endings rather than Love’s free-associative ramblings.

Indeed, even fans of this volatile and mercurial artist had to be frustrated by the waste of an opportunity to prove herself still viable as a rocker. One quickly tired of her often off-key vocals and empty threats, which included a vow not to leave the stage when the plug was pulled after 35 minutes to keep things running on schedule in a venue that brooks no tardiness.

Actually, except for a brief respite, she actually didn’t leave until just before Jane’s went on, hanging around on the stage until being carried off (apparently willingly) by a security guard. By then, the audience was uniquely primed to beg when Farrell coyly tilted his head and asked, “Do you want it?” Yes, oh yes!