Ambitious lover

Perry Farrell reaches for the stars with ENIT

by Matt Ashare

Perry Farrell sought a challenge when he left Lollapalooza behind earlier this year and set out to create his own ENIT festival. But he wasn't counting on that half-naked, fire-breathing ballerina on stilts named Pandora going up in flames on August 20 at Great Woods. Yes, half-naked, as in topless except for the small silver pasties; and fire-breathing, as in spitting flames Gene Simmons-style. Unfortunately, some of the fluid spilled on her gauze skirt, the stilts threw her balance off, and 10 songs into Porno for Pyros' set Farrell's loosely scripted carnival fantasy turned frighteningly real. The aliens he'd invited to ENIT's love-in never showed. But the medics did.

Pandora's combustion was responsible for one of the few adrenaline rushes in a day that was devoted to generating good karma and dance beats rather than angst and power chords. She escaped with minor injuries. The mood was at least partially salvaged, first by Lady Miss Kier, who bounded on stage as the smoke and Porno for Pyros were clearing and told the crowd, "Take a deep breath, come together, and give us some love." Then Farrell returned with his band (including bassist Mike Watt) and indulged in new-age-speak about "the cosmic flame" before offering some soothing acoustic tunes and a powerhouse, electrified version of "Coming Down the Mountain." But the incident still illustrated much of what was wrong and right with ENIT; the show took admirable chances, reached impressive peaks, and then went too far, descending into what might have seemed like Spinal Tap folly à la "Stonehenge" if it weren't for the fact that somebody got hurt in the process.

Conceived as a forward-looking answer to the retro, hard-rock leanings of this year's Lollapalooza, ENIT aimed to bring members of the DJ-oriented rave subculture together with open-minded underground-rock fans in a day (and, in two of its locations, a full night) devoted to love and dancing rather than angst and crowd surfing. The last-minute cancellation of three mainstage attractions -- Love and Rockets, Black Grape, and Buju Banton -- reduced the rock, leaving Meat Beat Manifesto, Lady Miss Kier, and the Orb to carry the day. The outer-limits jazz of the Sun Ra Arkestra and second-line rhythms of the Rebirth Brass Band added some diversity. A separate DJ stage offered nonstop grooves. Porno for Pyros, the show's only guitar band, were off stage by 10:30.

Two days earlier, at New Jersey's Garden State Arts Center, where more than 9000 showed up for an ENIT that started at 4 p.m., ended at 6 a.m., and took place in a large field, losing a few bands hadn't made a difference. But at Great Woods, ENIT had to be presented as a traditional concert with (mostly) assigned seating. Only 6300 people showed, and the logistics reduced it to something just slightly grander then a Porno for Pyros concert with extra opening acts.

Many of those seats were left empty as the crowd wandered around in search of some action during Kier's set. The former Deee-Lite singer was in strong voice and a halter top, but that didn't make up for the muddy mix her acid-jazz-style music was (mis)treated to. As if to confirm that there's still plenty of room for old-fashioned chops in the electronic galaxy, Rebirth Brass Band (sans amplification) drew a dancing crowd of baggy-clothed techno-hippies when they set up down by the Great Woods gate for an impromptu jam during Kier's set. That left it to the Orb to prove that man and machine can work together and sound good through a big PA. Which they did, generating a mesmerizing aural collage of sylvan soundscapes, lunar modulations, and elusive beats -- even a seasoned clubgoer like Kier, who came down onto the floor that had been cleared for dancers in front of the stage, couldn't quite anticipate where the Orb were taking the groove.

If Farrell's intention had been to weed out the baseball-cap-wearing alterna-jocks and frat-boy moshers by bringing together the peaceful, considerate, and perhaps even more discriminating elite of the alternative nation, then he'd succeeded by the time Porno hit the stage. I'd seen a young woman dressed in a sheer, see-through slip and very visible, very skimpy black panties walk amongst men without harassment, an overweight hippie wearing a tie-dyed purple gown dance with punk rockers, and no crowd surfing. My innate cynicism about festival crowds had slowly been eroded by the genuinely good-natured vibe of this one.

In the pit kids swayed to Porno for Pyro's mellow rendition of Jane's Addiction's "Summertime Rolls," a couple slow-danced to the eerie groove of "Tahitian Moon," and everybody sang along on "Pets" without stepping on one another's heads. Farrell even passed around the Merlot he was drinking -- and rather than smashing the bottle the audience took sips and returned it to the singer.

So it really was a shame that ENIT couldn't come off without incident, that Farrell couldn't temper his festival fantasies with a little more-realistic planning. But then, if he were more down to earth, he probably wouldn't be blowing his Lollapalooza cash on ENIT in the first place.