The backstory here is that over Christmas I was doing Maths revision and my brain suddenly said "Iggy Pop" and that thought lurked there until I went out and bought this album. Up until this point the only song I'd heard by him was 'China Girl', which I like, but I hadn't heard much of his earlier stuff until this point, so I didn't really know what to expect.
The Review
Iggy Pop. Prior to this I knew him for those rather embarrassing insurance adverts, and for being another inspirational artist that I hadn't really listened to. So knowing next to nothing, I ploughed into this album and found something... well, I can't describe it. Something you don't find much of these days. Raw, dirty, angry, yet with a sense of genuine intelligence and artistry behind the fog of absolute chaos.
Things kick off with 'Down On The Street' and its straightforwards rock 'n' roll riff. What starts off as tinny punk explodes briefly before settling back into its groove, and Iggy's drawling snarled vocals continue before once again everything kicks into overdrive, yelping and snarling and giving your eardrums a good kicking in the process before leaving them in the corner dazed to listen to the solo, which gives another surprise in that it is actually very good. Most early punk seemed to be angry people with instruments. This is angry people who are good at playing instruments.
Next up is 'Loose'. Things pick up with a faster and unhinged riff and the warning to watch out. Well hello. It has to be said that Iggy's vocals are still not entirely there, occasionally seeming a little too relaxed but every so often they surprise you with sudden yelps and snarls that lift the song. This track is where the true nature of this album begins to shine. Yes, it is the roots of punk rock and as such has an aggressive and mostly very basic and functional approach to music. But behind this lurks what is, in essence, a malignant and truly phenomenal jam session. The rhythm section keeps chugging along as the guitar unleashes some great sounds and the vocals enter a whole new dimension. And they are not afraid to change the tone, tempo and feel of the song when they want to.
And now: 'TV Eye', which even I had heard of prior to listening, if only because The 69 Eyes covered it at some point. As much as I adore that band to the point of getting as many EPs, live covers and B-sides as I can, they could not prepare me for the addictive insanity that is this song. Here, everything that was previously brewing in the music just blows up. A shout, a whoop, and glouriously chaotic and unhinged riff and fantastically simple yet tight drumming and off we go. This song has a crazy momentum driving it forwards that defies words, yet retains the languidly cool air of raw dirt that the previous tracks held. Once again, great instrumentals and possibly one of the most addictive basslines I've played. Things just keep getting more and more intense as things go on until it falls into an ominously chugging riff accompanied by all kinds of strange noises, building in a madly frantic manner with an aggressive riff until it grinds to a halt and starts at the beginning with that great riff before ending with another quick noodle on guitar.
'Dirt' starts with a chance for the drums to show their stuff before loping into a bluesy slow-jam. This is the band's statement to the world: "Dirt, and I don't care." This epitomises the attitude of this album. Yes, it is alien and filthy and will probably be questioned and attacked, and it just doesn't care. It is here to do what it does and do it well regardless of what anyone might say. The slow tempo works great here, showing the versatility of the band, Iggy's harsh staccato vocals blending wonderfully with the guitar, which retains its rough tones but develops a new facet where it almost shimmers and blends with itself. The bass keeps everything under a steady guidance, allowing the drums the occasional flourish. As the song progresses, things relax again to their state of defiant cool, and Iggy's voice softens slightly before things pick up for a moment, showing that the band might have slowed down but the chaos shown in previous tracks is still just below the surface, and the song tails off to its natural end with a satisfying feeling.
'1970' once again unleashes whooping and a stomping drumbeat to artistic chainsaw guitars and a beautifully simple and driving bassline. This is a real punk rock predecessor: fast and streamlined and angry, but in a controlled manner that makes it feel perhaps more threatening than much of the snotty shouting that punk came to mean. Never have the words "I feel alright" sounded so ominous than when they accompany another great moment of musicianship. This starts out as a more recognisable and typical rock 'n' roll than some of this album, but it is a good example of this. And the sudden saxophone makes an interesting addition, then the song descends into another demented and ominous jam session.
'Fun House' picks up where this left off, the saxophone blending with the other instruments to create a solid wall of musicianship. This is almost punk-jazz, and the vocals drawl and yelp and snarl over this, only adding to this volatile mix of attitude and talent. Whereas a lot of music is used to draw attention to the lyrics and singing, here the vocals serve more as an accompaniment to the musicianship, which once again lurches between simple yet powerful riffs and some fantastic solos and melodies. Everything gets its chance to be heard, and at times it can feel like the instruments are jostling to be heard in a crowded space. Imagine a small sweatbox venue somewhere, the ones where the support band have to stand on one another, and this is where this song seems to have grown out of, and sprawled out of the constraints of that venue into something else. Possibly a jazz club, and assimilated what it heard in there and worked into into this snarling monstrosity.
Finally, 'LA Blues', staring off with yelping and hammering drums and wailing guitar and saxophone and madly spiralling bass that build like an elastic band being stretched to breaking point and further before seeming to fly off in slow motion in a fog of distorted guitar and clattering drums and every aspect of the music being pushed as far as it will go before it seems to implode into a black hole of its own making. This is how the track continues, with everything sounding like it is being dragged into this black hole of feedback and sound, occasionally reaching out and being pulled back in before it is eventually swallowed up and fades into something like otherworldly tinnitus.
So yeah, not sure if what just happened is punk in the strictest sense, but it has the beginnings of the movement in there and is well worth a listen if you have the attention span of eight minutes and an appreciation of rock as music. Or jazz. Or music in general I suppose.
Iggy Pop. Prior to this I knew him for those rather embarrassing insurance adverts, and for being another inspirational artist that I hadn't really listened to. So knowing next to nothing, I ploughed into this album and found something... well, I can't describe it. Something you don't find much of these days. Raw, dirty, angry, yet with a sense of genuine intelligence and artistry behind the fog of absolute chaos.
Things kick off with 'Down On The Street' and its straightforwards rock 'n' roll riff. What starts off as tinny punk explodes briefly before settling back into its groove, and Iggy's drawling snarled vocals continue before once again everything kicks into overdrive, yelping and snarling and giving your eardrums a good kicking in the process before leaving them in the corner dazed to listen to the solo, which gives another surprise in that it is actually very good. Most early punk seemed to be angry people with instruments. This is angry people who are good at playing instruments.
Next up is 'Loose'. Things pick up with a faster and unhinged riff and the warning to watch out. Well hello. It has to be said that Iggy's vocals are still not entirely there, occasionally seeming a little too relaxed but every so often they surprise you with sudden yelps and snarls that lift the song. This track is where the true nature of this album begins to shine. Yes, it is the roots of punk rock and as such has an aggressive and mostly very basic and functional approach to music. But behind this lurks what is, in essence, a malignant and truly phenomenal jam session. The rhythm section keeps chugging along as the guitar unleashes some great sounds and the vocals enter a whole new dimension. And they are not afraid to change the tone, tempo and feel of the song when they want to.
And now: 'TV Eye', which even I had heard of prior to listening, if only because The 69 Eyes covered it at some point. As much as I adore that band to the point of getting as many EPs, live covers and B-sides as I can, they could not prepare me for the addictive insanity that is this song. Here, everything that was previously brewing in the music just blows up. A shout, a whoop, and glouriously chaotic and unhinged riff and fantastically simple yet tight drumming and off we go. This song has a crazy momentum driving it forwards that defies words, yet retains the languidly cool air of raw dirt that the previous tracks held. Once again, great instrumentals and possibly one of the most addictive basslines I've played. Things just keep getting more and more intense as things go on until it falls into an ominously chugging riff accompanied by all kinds of strange noises, building in a madly frantic manner with an aggressive riff until it grinds to a halt and starts at the beginning with that great riff before ending with another quick noodle on guitar.
'Dirt' starts with a chance for the drums to show their stuff before loping into a bluesy slow-jam. This is the band's statement to the world: "Dirt, and I don't care." This epitomises the attitude of this album. Yes, it is alien and filthy and will probably be questioned and attacked, and it just doesn't care. It is here to do what it does and do it well regardless of what anyone might say. The slow tempo works great here, showing the versatility of the band, Iggy's harsh staccato vocals blending wonderfully with the guitar, which retains its rough tones but develops a new facet where it almost shimmers and blends with itself. The bass keeps everything under a steady guidance, allowing the drums the occasional flourish. As the song progresses, things relax again to their state of defiant cool, and Iggy's voice softens slightly before things pick up for a moment, showing that the band might have slowed down but the chaos shown in previous tracks is still just below the surface, and the song tails off to its natural end with a satisfying feeling.
'1970' once again unleashes whooping and a stomping drumbeat to artistic chainsaw guitars and a beautifully simple and driving bassline. This is a real punk rock predecessor: fast and streamlined and angry, but in a controlled manner that makes it feel perhaps more threatening than much of the snotty shouting that punk came to mean. Never have the words "I feel alright" sounded so ominous than when they accompany another great moment of musicianship. This starts out as a more recognisable and typical rock 'n' roll than some of this album, but it is a good example of this. And the sudden saxophone makes an interesting addition, then the song descends into another demented and ominous jam session.
'Fun House' picks up where this left off, the saxophone blending with the other instruments to create a solid wall of musicianship. This is almost punk-jazz, and the vocals drawl and yelp and snarl over this, only adding to this volatile mix of attitude and talent. Whereas a lot of music is used to draw attention to the lyrics and singing, here the vocals serve more as an accompaniment to the musicianship, which once again lurches between simple yet powerful riffs and some fantastic solos and melodies. Everything gets its chance to be heard, and at times it can feel like the instruments are jostling to be heard in a crowded space. Imagine a small sweatbox venue somewhere, the ones where the support band have to stand on one another, and this is where this song seems to have grown out of, and sprawled out of the constraints of that venue into something else. Possibly a jazz club, and assimilated what it heard in there and worked into into this snarling monstrosity.
Finally, 'LA Blues', staring off with yelping and hammering drums and wailing guitar and saxophone and madly spiralling bass that build like an elastic band being stretched to breaking point and further before seeming to fly off in slow motion in a fog of distorted guitar and clattering drums and every aspect of the music being pushed as far as it will go before it seems to implode into a black hole of its own making. This is how the track continues, with everything sounding like it is being dragged into this black hole of feedback and sound, occasionally reaching out and being pulled back in before it is eventually swallowed up and fades into something like otherworldly tinnitus.
So yeah, not sure if what just happened is punk in the strictest sense, but it has the beginnings of the movement in there and is well worth a listen if you have the attention span of eight minutes and an appreciation of rock as music. Or jazz. Or music in general I suppose.
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