REBECCA AVERY: They were a couple of really creative guys, two sides of the same coin. Perry was more the charismatic, outgoing, magnetic type, while Eric was more internal, more intellectual, but really freaking creative, too.
PERRY FARRELL: He was the kind of guy I wanted to sit down and have a drink with and talk about music. Eric seemed like a wild kid, with this kind of half-cocked grin. I would look at his body language and I could tell what was going on in his head.
ERIC AVERY: I was a really shy, introverted guy. Perry was really energized, vivacious . . . extroverted. I was an outsider to the Hollywood underground band scene. I went to shows, but didn’t know anybody, and I thought that maybe this [audition] would be a cool way to just meet interesting new people. But Perry told me, “I want to leave Psi Com. Let’s start a whole new band.” And I was down. I just thought Perry was great, an electric, creative guy.
WHO THE FUCK IS PERRY FARRELL ANYWAY?
NORWOOD FISHER: Between Psi Com and Jane’s Addiction we were hanging with Perry and jamming on a few things; we did a Jimi Hendrix tribute at the Roxy. We rehearsed for Perry’s portion of the show in my mom’s living room. After that came the actual Jane’s Addiction band. We were like, all psyched up . . . Jane’s Addiction . . . wow . . . that’s Perry’s new band, let’s get down there!
FLEA: I first heard the name Perry Farrell when I played a Jimi Hendrix tribute at The Roxy. Hillel [Slovak] and I got this Hendrix band together with the Fishbone guys and a bunch of different guests were set to jam on his birthday, I think it was, and I worked real hard on it. On the night of the gig I took acid and thought I played the greatest show of my life. The next day in the newspaper there’s a big picture of Perry with the caption “Perry Farrell of Jane’s Addiction Sings at Hendrix Tribute!” I was being a total brat. I didn’t even see him play, and I was like “Who the fuck is Perry Farrell?” I was like “I worked so hard on this, I had the best show of my life, and now there’s this picture of some guy who came up and blew a little harmonica! What’s up with that?” Perry already had this magnetism; already people thought he was an important figure.
PERRY FARRELL: Between Psi Com and Jane’s I’d go out there and improvise with just a drummer or with Eric on electric bass and I’d holler through my vocal effects box. I’d do off-the-top-of-my-head lyrics dressed in a see-thru unitard. It was a big hit at Lingerie, the Anti-Club, Charlie’s Obsession. . . . I think we may have billed ourselves as the Illuminotics, or the Illuminati. . . .
ERIC AVERY: Once we played some hellhole bar on Skid Row, on the corner of 5th and Spring Street [downtown L.A.]. Charlie’s Obsession was its name. The whole area outside the club was like Dawn of the Dead. Several thousand unchecked crackheads and mental patients wandering homeless around a two-mile radius. About five people inside, including us. I played bass. Perry sang and made noises with his effects unit. We played with Four Way Cross. They watched us play and then we finished and watched them play, there was nobody else there.
PERRY FARRELL: At the Anti-Club you could be very experimental, twisted, and weird. I was using delays, using one drummer and myself and then Eric. We’d do little pieces like that. It was all about art. We had nothing to lose, all to gain. We were having a good time. We could get booked in and have a party and that’s it. It’s a success.
CARLA BOZULICH: Perry and his spacey vocal effects, with the little Roland effects processor right on stage, that was pretty cute.
ERIC AVERY: There was a disco song playing while we were sound checking and I just started playing along with it. I just kept playing as they killed the houselights and we just started jamming and that’s where “Pigs in Zen” got started. Another time I played on these chemical drums and Perry sang and that became “Trip Away.” Perry is a master at improvising cool lyrics in jam situations. We did that for awhile and then we started playing with a guitar player and a drummer. We also tried to get grant money from some art college. None of us had any money. Perry and I used to go to Astro Burger all the time because you could get breakfast for like $1.99.
NAMING OF JA EARLY DAYS OF JA BALLAD OF PF AND CASEY
CASEY NICCOLI: We were trying to think of a name for Perry’s new band with Eric. The other names just weren’t doing it. I said, “Well, how about if we call the band Jane’s Heroin Experience” like Jimi Hendrix Experience. . . . Perry said, “That’s it, that’s it . . . not Jane’s Heroin Experience, that’s too long . . . Jane’s Addiction!” So that was it.
JANE BAINTER: They all came into my bedroom and they were like, “We have a great name for our new band!” I was like, “Uh, that’s not so good.”
BOB MOSS (performance artist, mime): She was really pissed at him over the name at first. This was before the lyrics to “Jane Says” were written, just the name of the band. I’m like, “Wait a minute, bro’ . . . this is my best friend’s secret, extremely personal habit!” I thought it was an outright invasion. Sure, there were a hell of a lot of junkies in Hollywood then but people weren’t shouting it out with megaphones who’s a big junkie. And that thing about relationships—“Jane’s never been in love, all I know is if they want me”—she just had lots of little affairs.
CASEY NICCOLI: In the early days, Perry wanted me in the band. There was also another girl lined up who played saxophone. We were in the earliest Jane’s Addiction band pictures. We even booked shows with me in the line-up. But Eric didn’t like it, didn’t want it. Perry put Eric in charge of teaching me the songs so he’d figure out the most intricate ways to play everything so I couldn’t keep up . . . the fingering was so hard that I couldn’t learn it.
JOSH RICHMAN: Perry and Casey were John and Yoko. They were an artistic couple. He looked to her for everything. Nobody was more instrumental than Casey and Perry in anything Jane’s Addiction did.
ERIC AVERY: There was conversation about creativity between the two of them going on all the time. . . .
JON SIDEL (former club promoter, restaurateur, current A&R rep): Casey’s on two album covers. She lived for Perry and Jane’s Addiction. She became part of their art form. If you see candles and crazy artwork on the stage. That’s Casey.
JANE BAINTER: Casey was artistically and lyrically a huge influence; also on stage design and all performance aspects. There could never have been a Jane’s Addiction as we know it without her.
Perry Farrell and Casey Niccoli, first couple of the Wilton House and the Scream. (Bruce Kalberg)
JON SIDEL: She played the unsung Angie Bowie role . . . coming up with the staging, the styling, and the costuming of the Ziggy Stardust show to free up her spouse to focus on the music . . . so was Casey to Perry and the continually evolving Jane’s Addiction’s stage show. She was also his personal stylist who braided his hair before shows. . . .
CASEY NICCOLI: I was very in love with this man. When you’re in a relationship with somebody, you share your life with them and a big part of that was my love for music. I was all for pushing the guy in my life and not pushing my own talent. All of my creative thoughts went into Perry and what Perry should do. Maybe I was too afraid to do it myself. Perry taught me that my art was really important and that what I did was good. Cause I didn’t believe in myself. He made me comfortable to be an artist. I could write, I could paint, I could act, I could do anything when I was with him. He fulfilled a part of me that I couldn’t fulfill myself.
ERIC AVERY: I don’t remember who all exactly was in the band when the name Jane’s Addiction came up. One guitar player we’d tried had a Ziggy Stardust vibe. He even had two different-color eyes. And then this other guy, Ed, had this nasty Les Paul classic rock guitar sound. Brinkman was another art fag like Perry and I. We opened for Gene Loves Jezebel at the Roxy [in early ’86]. Chris played in his Jockey shorts. Matt Chaikin from Kommunity FK was the drummer. We went through three guitar players before Dave, but drum-wise I think we might have just played with Matt before Stephen.
HEIDI RICHMAN: Eric was very friendly with Matt’s wife Stephanie
. Both Matt and Stephanie got really strung out on dope during 1986. She used to call me all the time for money. Matt and Stephanie used to live in a really cute little house in the Valley. Eric used to spend a lot of time there.
JANE BAINTER: Chris Brinkman’s father was a big business exec from Santa Barbara. His mom was Jeanne Crain, who was like this very cool movie actress from the 40s and 50s. His family was on the cover of Life magazine. He was very dynamic in the beginning, and I think he was never credited for his contributions to some of the songs on the first album. Soon Chris just spun out of control. He eventually OD’d, well it was a suicide, but it was like an OD after he’d been kicked out. He was so dysfunctional that he couldn’t even show up. Perry is something of a relentless slave driver, he’s pretty focused on what he wants and how to get it. . . .
ERIC TRICKS WITH BIANCA THE HOOKER . . .
ERIC AVERY: I was sleeping with this prostitute named Bianca. She was awful, but she was going to bankroll us.
PERRY FARRELL: It wasn’t too hard to fall down with her. She was a very persuasive woman. Bianca was very sweet, if a little nutty. Nutty enough to want to manage us.
JANE BAINTER: Bianca helped launch Perry’s career when he was still in Psi Com with money to make a record and now she was behind early Jane’s Addiction with cash for him to rent venues to promote their own shows.
REBECCA AVERY: Eric kept from me that he was sleeping with Bianca. That’s hilarious. I just thought, hmmm that’s an interesting woman. I found out later that “Whores” was about her.
JANE BAINTER: Her clients were toupeed Hollywood B-Listers, like these wholesome married game-show hosts with awesome tans and big grinnin’ teeth.
PERRY FARRELL: Bianca was our backer. After Psi Com broke up, Bianca put up the dough so we could put on our own shows. I started putting parties on.
JANE BAINTER: Bianca had lots of cash. She put him on songwriting retreats and paid for us all to go to Big Bear and Lake Arrowhead. She was a good businessperson.
THE BLACK RADIO EXPERIENCE: Jane’s Addiction Begins to Gig as a Fourpiece
CASEY NICCOLI: We rented the Black Radio building on Hollywood Boulevard with Bianca’s cash and that was a huge success. We promoted ourselves with Tex & the Horseheads and the Screamin’ Sirens. The thinking was total DIY. It was, like, 101 punk-rock style. We served beer and stuff. There was no liquor license so we couldn’t charge money. People bought a plastic trinket and traded it for a drink. It was a huge success. There was just money coming in everywhere.
PLEASANT GEHMAN (member Screamin’ Sirens, former club-booker, author, journalist, belly-dancer): Hollywood Boulevard wasn’t like it is now. These weren’t real clubs with security. Police awareness was just about nil. They were only worried about bums or an occasional bar fight.10
PERRY FARRELL: It was jam-packed ’cause of Tex and the Sirens. We were bottom of the bill. Nobody knew who Jane’s Addiction was.
PLEASANT GEHMAN: The [Black Radio] show with Tex and Jane’s was beyond insane. Everyone was into making these underground parties into total events. You’d get dressed up. People were smuggling in booze, serving electric shots.11
Tex & the Horseheads Black Radio flyer. (Courtesy Rebecca Avery)
TEXACALA JONES: It was right on Hollywood Boulevard. Kids were pourin’ out onto the sidewalk at the front, hangin’ out through the halls. They were doing their things in those alcoves there.
PLEASANT GEHMAN: Hitting up coke and slamming dope in the bathrooms and all over the stairs and the mezzanine.12
TEXACALA JONES: The crowd looked slightly different, some gothy types were showing up at my gigs, too. It was real gothy, punky, not mean-looking skinheady punky; more glam punky. It was the feel of like a weird Melrose fashion show.
PERRY FARRELL: We had this great guitar player, but he was a junkie who was ahead of me. He’d show up forty minutes late to rehearsal and he’d be tuning at top volume. I’d be saying, what the fuck is this guy doing? Something’s wrong with him. He disappeared, we couldn’t find him. Up until the minute we went on, we didn’t have a guitar player.
PLEASANT GEHMAN: Tables and chairs [were] flying through the air. Broken glass all over the floor, like a throwback to the Masque days. People were hopping from tabletop to tabletop. The only way I can describe it is that blur some shows get when the entire crowd is completely whacked out of their mind on different substances, and it’s like a swirling vortex and you’re convinced that someone’s gonna die.13
ENTER: DAVID MICHAEL NAVARRO
Date of Birth: June 7, 1967
Place of Birth: Santa Monica, CA
DAVE NAVARRO (musician, guitarist, Dizastre, Jane’s Addiction, Deconstruction, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Camp Freddy, the Panic Channel): I was born in Santa Monica, California, the year of the Californian Summer of Love. My dad is in advertising. And my mom was an actress and a model. That’s how they met. She was on Truth or Consequences. She would be the woman who’d twinkle and smile and point . . . to a new car! She was in some Doris Day films and a bunch of ads.
DAN NAVARRO (first cousin of Dave, musician, songwriter): Dave was an only child growing up. When I moved to Los Angeles he was two years old and I was seventeen. I lived with his father, Mike Navarro, for two years after he and Dave’s mother divorced, sometime around ’76-’77. Dave was over every other weekend and Wednesdays, the standard custody arrangement in those days. Mike and Connie were always very close, even after the divorce. I was around Dave a lot when he was nine and ten. I wouldn’t so much babysit—it was really more like he would be over to just hang out.
Dave Navarro’s yearbook photo. St. Paul the Apostle grammar school. Seventh grade. (Courtesy Rebecca Avery)
DAVE NAVARRO: My mom has since died, but I talk to my dad regularly. We’re really close. I feel very fortunate. He’s always been there for me and has never been judgmental of anything that I do. And I’ve done plenty to judge, believe me.
DAN NAVARRO: Dave’s father Mike Navarro and my father are brothers. Mexican-American.
JOHNNY NAVARRO (brother of Dan, cousin to Dave, journalist, copy-writer): My branch of the family grew up in San Diego. We got Christmas cards every year from Mike with Dave’s photo because Mike was in advertising and he publicized his child’s beauty as much as any doting father would.
DAVE NAVARRO: My grandfather [was] from the Basque country, the Navarre region, a buffer between Spain and France. Everyone there had a name that was a variation of Navarre.14
DAN NAVARRO: Our grandfather, Gabriel Navarro, was an illegal immigrant who came to Los Angeles, turn of last century, and eventually got himself heavily ingrained into the local arts community. Gabriel Navarro became a well-known creative icon in the Spanish-language community who worked for the studios, sometimes synching Spanish soundtracks with films. He had also worked as a publicist and owned a newspaper in Los Angeles in the 50s called El Pueblo. Dave’s dad went to USC and became an advertising guy, starting out writing copy before becoming an account executive who ran his own company.
JOHNNY NAVARRO: Gabriel Navarro Senior was a very strong, charismatic, macho kind of guy with an incredible Valentino-esque type of look with the moustache and the eyebrows and this transfixing glare. He was extremely creative, a musician, an actor, a writer, but some of the stories I heard just made him sound like a flaming egomaniac and a prick. For example, my grandfather would walk into a room and time himself to see how long it would take to control everyone in it, but if you really think about it, there’s a pathology behind that; it’s so fucking egocentric and full of yourself, yet fearful and insecure at the same time. Not a person that I find appealing in any way . . .
DAN NAVARRO: It’s a creative family that was inspired by this awesome, overwhelming guy, this towering figure in the background of all our family’s lives.
JOHNNY NAVARRO: The seeds of rebellion and resentment were ingrained in me by my father, Gabriel Navarro Jr. who passed on to me and my brother the same message which had been drumm
ed into him by his father, “You’re a Navarro. So you’re automatically different from everyone else. You’re creative and you’re artistic and you’re a genius, and you just need to find the way to express this genius. Whatever it is it’s going to excel, and it’s going to be better than everyone else.” This relentless drive is a double-edged sword. Yes, it is a good thing that Gabriel Navarro inspired in his children and grandchildren support and maintenance of a creative spirit, a drive to excel in the arts; but the quite drastic downside is that you can never achieve success in your mind. Perfection is unattainable. I know that exists in Dave, too. Whatever it is, it’s just never going to be good enough.
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