Oh, the humanity. It's Friday night at the Bill Graham Civic Auditorium and Iggy Pop already has removed his shirt, flipped everyone in the audience the bird and dived on their heads several times.

Now he tears into "I Wanna Be Your Dog," while his butt-crack creeps above the line where his painted-on jeans begin to cover his ding-dong. There are many ways to get into the holiday spirit. Seeing a half-naked 56-year-old man dry hump a stage is probably not one of them.

But it doesn't matter, because this is better than that part in "Titanic" where the ship sank with Celine Dion on it. Pop sings "The Passenger" and "Search & Destroy," two of the most amazing songs ever written by a spindly Detroit self-mutilator. He slaps the stage. He shakes his hips. He throws a microphone stand at his guitar player's head.

And just when it feels like he should maybe sit down on a stool and chug a bottle of cough medicine, he invites half the crowd onto the stage to ram each other like billy goats while he slithers through a jacked-up version of "Lust For Life." Then everybody tackles him. Not So Silent Night, San Francisco alternative rock radio station Live 105's annual holiday party, never disappoints. There's nudity, loud music, bloody noses, vomiting, drunk teenagers and everything.

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club plays a criminally brief but mind-frying set of feedback-drenched, strobe-light flickering psychedelic rock that sounds like the Stone Roses if they joined a biker gang.

Fresh from giving Pink a safety-pin-and-black -nail-polish makeover, Tim Armstrong and Rancid put on such an animated punk set that even the parents standing in the enormous beer line in the lobby can't help but go-go dance.

Normally, seeing the Offspring live is worst than getting food poisoning on an 18-hour flight to Easter Island. But tonight there are free Play Station 2 consoles in the lobby, loaded not only with a slick basketball game but one that looks kind of like Miami Vice. Fantastic.

But that's nothing compared to the sight of Perry Farrell, frontman for headliners Jane's Addiction, coming out in a black corset and silky cargo pants. By the first song, he's already got the audience singing along to every word on "Stop." By the second one he's got them all totally confused because he keeps talking about tripping, being high and living in a nest.

When the band launches into massively rhythmic versions of old smack anthems like "Been Caught Stealing" and "Mountain Song," however, it's complete chaos. People bolt straight up and clamber for the front of the stage, with no regard for personal safety. It makes perfect sense. Who cares about a broken arm when you've just touched Perry Farrell? What a night.