LOS ANGELES (AP) - Well, not quite, but for one chilly evening in L.A. the not-too-distant past came semi-alive again. A pair of diva's from the era of
George Bush the First ruled the venerable Hollywood Bowl stage on Saturday (Oct. 27) night one a smashing success, one a dismal failure.
Following a clubby, techno-friendly half hour turn by the Stereo MC's from Southwest London - a band whose quasi-industrial, semi-old school soul would have been better served had it appeared another mile down the hill at the Palace in front of a rave (and younger) crew the mighty mouth of Courtney Love was much anticipated.
Not fronting Hole nor appearing as a solo or with her new band, Bastard (see related story in Miss Truth ), Love had apparently cobbled together a band with former Hole/current Bastard band mate Patty Schemel on drums, former Redd Kross leader Steve McDonald on guitar, Kenny Korade on guitar, and Jerry Best on bass. The group's haphazard sloppiness made it quite clear that they didn't hit a rehearsal studio as much as they should've prior to the show.
Opening an abbreviated set with a Pearl Jam-sounding song entitled "All the Drugs In the World" (after informing the audience that no one would be allowed to eat during her performance), Love was not only obviously under-rehearsed, but also under-miked and barely audible. This may not have been too awful, given that as her voice rose in the mix, so did her inability to come anywhere near the song's key. As the number devolved into a cop from Sammy Davis' Jr.'s "Candy Man," it also sputtered to a halt, leaving the audience somewhat baffled.
"If any of you are eating, I'll stick your wine and cheese up your ass," informed the diva, getting a bigger hand for her quip than her opening number.
After a couple of new songs, Love dressed in a purposely ragged shirt, jeans, and her hair long and wild again (a potpourri of other styles, such as Stevie Nicks and Sheryl Crow) rolled out Hole's last hit, 1998's "Malibu," during which she danced through the audience and closed the tune with an odd interpolation of Journey's "Lights."
Toward the end of her set, she announced that she has three, no four , songs to go and asked the crowd if they wanted to hear four. To that, the crowd booed and Love went into her final song, her ode to Yoko Ono, "20 Years in the Dakota" (from the EP My Body the Hand Grenade). As if to underscore the obvious (or beat it to death) Love and band worked a snatch of the Beatles' "Hey, Jude" into the chorus.
After this 35-minute stretch of unfathomable self-indulgence, the Bowl's house lights went up leaving the singer alone onstage with guitar, seemingly lost. Refusing the exit the stage at first even though PA started playing intermission music Love finally stalked off stage right. Moments later right before Jane's was to take the stage Love sashayed back onstage with an acoustic guitar, but not long before several security guards carried her off stage much to the cheers and delight of the audience.
Jane's Addiction was Love's polar opposite. The band took the stage quietly behind Perry Farrell, as the singer was decked out head-to-toe in a long ball gown, which, as it was raised, revealed not just Farrell, but a slew of dancers beneath.
Opening with the eerie "Kettle Whistle," Farrell was lifted into the air as part of the first of many stagy moments, all of which were lapped up by the vastly less-than-capacity crowd. Running through its harder rocking moments throughout the balance of the set (with semi-acoustic interlude in the middle of the set on a small stage), Jane's employed a troupe of dancers that played on a huge seesaw, or that hung upside down from a carousel.
Farrell endlessly exhorted the audience with cries of "Los Angeles!" and "It's great to be alive," but for all of the extraneousness (like dancers perched atop columns half way up the arena), when the band simply played their songs, from "Ocean Size" to "Three Days" to the acoustic segment featuring "Jane Says," "Classic Girl," and Porno for Pyros' "Pets" (with Porno's Peter DiStefano guesting), the band brought down its hometown house. The set's highpoint was a version of "Stop," which had the entire bowl singing along at full-tilt during the tune's breakdown.
But an 18,000-seater is tough to fill in summertime even when you have hits on the radio, and that's not happening now for either act. As a result, the upper half of the venue was mostly empty. Better to either say goodbye to this "reunion," or play it in more intimate surroundings.
