"Been Caught Stealing" (Jane's Addiction)

Jane's Addiction was a drug-addled mess in 1990.  Frontman Perry Farrell was smoking crack before going on stage at shows, and guitarist Dave Navarro was shooting up incessantly.  (They pull no punches about this period of time in interviews.)
So it's amazing to me that they held together as a unit for as long as they did, much less were able to produce an album that was as consistent as Ritual de lo Habitual.  For the most part, when Farrell isn't full-on channeling Jim Morrison to unintentionally comical effect, the album burns with a rare flame.  The blend of hard rock, punk, funk, and even jazz is electrifying.
And while the sense of morality (or lack thereof) expressed in the album is a borderline rock & roll cliché of wine, women, and song, I have to admit, it was/is refreshing to listen to an album that isn't trying to sell any of those things to the listener.  It just puts things out there, and you can either take or leave them.  It's the antithesis of 80s hair metal, where every song is like some beer commercial.
In fact, the band kind of reminds me of The Velvet Underground in that way.  Lou Reed wasn't really beckoning listeners to shoot up or hang out with transvestite hookers; he was just writing songs about his own life and experiences.  If you wanted to sit in the peanut gallery and observe, then step right up.  But it wasn't really an invitation to join in.
Which brings me to the big hit and my favorite track from Ritual de lo Habitual, "Been Caught Stealing."
Farrell isn't specifically advocating going to the store and stuffing a dozen frozen Swanson dinners under your muumuu (although, I once witnessed a very large woman get busted for doing exactly that at a Wal-Mart Supercenter in suburban Charlotte).  He's simply using shoplifting as a metaphor for human desire.  In other words, some people do what they do (be it shoplifting, drugs, etc.) because it fulfills some primal, reptilian urge.
Anyway, the song features a wickedly clever lyric over a strutting groove.  Eric Avery's bass grunts like some kind of wild boar throughout.  Drummer Stephen Perkins channels the funk of Clyde Stubblefield.  And Navarro demonstrates what a virtuoso he is by alternating between syncopated, jazzy rhythm guitar and screaming, distorted solos.  
And I can't forget Farrell's expressive, Technicolor tenor, which simply makes me smile every time I hear it.  His is one of the best voices in rock of the past 25 years.
And, sweet fancy Moses, that video: