PERRY
FARRELL
THE ALCHEMIST
By Tom Lanham
photo by MEENO
I
t took Brazilian author Paulo Coelho
just two weeks to write back in ’87, but
the compact little novel The Alchemist is
one of those metaphysical, feel-good reads
that not only deserves to be on every liter-
ate bookshelf alongside “The Little
Prince,” but demands to be revisited every
couple of years lest its wisdom be lost to
passing trends. And you don’t often get a
work of art that transcends time in such an
effortless fashion. To the uninitiated, the
book’s plot might seem featherweight, dis-
armingly simple. It’s not.
The parable’s basic schematic (spoiler
alert): An Andalusian shepherd boy
named Santiago is informed by a local
mystic that there is a glorious unclaimed
treasure out there, somewhere around
Egypt, just waiting for him to set out to
discover it. Swell! The kid thinks, but along
the way winds up having so many tangen-
tial adventures as the years pass — includ-
ing meeting the love of his life — he near-
ly forgets his original quest. But when he
finally arrives back home, he’s shocked to
learn that the elusive riches he’d been
seeking were there, hidden in his back
yard all along. Naturally, Santiago is fum-
ing. Why wasn’t he informed of this crucial
fact before he left? He asks. The mystic’s
22 illinoisentertainer.com july 2019
reply is one for the ages: Essentially, Son, if
you didn’t dare to venture out from your
safe homebody existence, you never would
have experienced all these swashbuckling
sprees that made you the man that you are
today. You would never have lived your
life to its full extent. Or, as Coelho succinct-
ly put it, “Remember that wherever your
heart is, there you will find your treasure.”
Pretty deep, as far as neighborly advice
goes.
Into this rarefied air now soars Jane’s
Addiction/Porno for Pyros instigator
Perry Farrell, who just turned 60 and is
most assuredly feeling his metaphysical
oats these heady days. Not in a brazen,
doomed to fail Icarus fashion, where he’
just begging for a wax-winged comeup-
pance. But with a genuine curiosity, a
deep-rooted desire to explore the confines
of his own artistic universe. “In my older
years, I’ve mellowed,” he sighs. “And I’ve
definitely made a conscious decision to be
participating in the world. I’m a public fig-
ure now, I’m not as, uh, INJURED as I used
to be, and I have children and a wife and a
dog. I have a life. And I want to experience
the entire world and all of its people.”
To wit, he has just issued his second
solo set, Kind Messiah, which considers the
potential return of a Jesus-benevolent fig-
ure by starting at ground zero with the
self-analyzing, cat-scratch feral “Pirate
Punk Politician.” He ratchets up the ten-
sion with the military march “Snakes Have
Many Hips,” a classic metal exercise
“Machine Girl” (aided by his wife Etty Lau
Farrell), the Far East-hued piano ballad
“More Than I Could Bear,” and a closing
anthem dubbed “Let’s All Pray for the
World.” Initially, the coda feels sneeringly
cynical, the type of bratty “Been Caught
Stealing” that first got Jane’s Addiction
noticed in the mid-‘80s. But it’s no joke.
Farrell, born in Queens as Peretz Bernstein
— in song and interview — is unusually,
almost disconcertingly reverent and sin-
cere.
“What have I learned since those early
days?” He asks rhetorically. He ponders
this for a moment. “That you have to be
much more patient with people. If you
really want to do it right, if you really want
to get through life and look back and say
that it was a happy life, you have to be
patient. You have to sometimes wait in a
long line, or just slow down. You have to
give a person another chance, or maybe
you can inform them, or put your arm
around them or give them a pat on the
back. There are all kinds of ways to do it.”
He pauses. We’re approaching the
Alchemist stratosphere here, but he boldly
continues. He’s not sure when, exactly, it
was, but he made a decision many years
ago that’s carried him on his often difficult
journey: He would never, ever commit sui-
cide and take the easy way out, no matter
what troubles clouded his horizon.
"I always wanted to hang in there,
because my mom took her own life,” says
the Lollapalooza founder, who currently
oversees several annual incarnations of the
groundbreaking festival around the world.
“I made a commitment with myself to not
bug out of this place. Since then, I’ve had
children, and within this slow process
going on 17, 18 years now, you can either
be a miserable fuck, or you can say, ‘The
times may be dark, but I’m gonna enjoy
them.’ Or, ‘This person may be a
Conservative, but they’re here at my show,
so that shows me that they’re open-mind-
ed. I’ve become more of a…a…” He’s not
even sure what moral treasure he’s stum-
bled across. There may not even be a name
for it yet.
The vocalist has a term for his former
irascible self, circa Jane’s breakthrough
continues on page 24