The Stooges - The Weirdness

My first reaction spinning The Weirdness was to automatically preface everything I wanted to say by declaring how great the first three Stooges albums are. The reasons are equal parts damage control to their established legacy as well as a protective mother role that wants to protect these Michigan fuck ups from the abuse they already encountered during their well documented phoenix between 69-74.
But now there’s a part of me that understands none of ‘em deserves it. Christ on a bike: Iggy’s 60 which means he’s old enough to figure out what’s shit and when to stop the moment he’s about to completely dismantle one of rock & roll’s most treasured landmarks.
For every one of The Stooges first three albums, Iggy and the band sound like the house band during the apocalypse. On The Weirdness, their first album in over thirty years, they sound like a caricature of their former glory. And who’s the one doing most of the vandalism? None other than Iggy himself.
When “My Idea Of Fun” was first introduced to the public, it became very apparent that our expectations of the new Stooges album shouldn’t be raised too high. However, there was a hope that the song was merely one of the low points of the album. Surprise! It’s actually one of the better songs on the album, which should demonstrate how ridiculously awful the rest of the disc is.
If you thought “my idea of fun/is killing everyone” was fairly innocuous, then nothing will prepare you for lyrics like “I pulled up to the ATM/I pulled up to the ATM/My, what a rich fool I am.”
But wait, it gets worse.
“Free And Freaky” is almost a rewrite of John Cougar Mellencamp’s “R.O.C.K. (In The U.S.A.)”
“Mexican Guy” finds Iggy sounding like a monotonous Anthony Kedis.
On “Trollin,” Iggy exclaims “My dick is turning into a tree” before (rightfully) acknowledging that “Rock critics wouldn’t like this at all.” You think?
At no time does Iggy sound like he’s having a good time; with every half-assed yell, flat note, and bored phrasing, the longtime fan has nothing else to consider except that this reunion was planned out of financial desire rather than creative need.
If it seems that I’m singling out Iggy for this disaster, it’s because the focus is justifiable. The Ashtons, while nowhere near their younger fury, actually manage a respectable offering throughout The Weirdness. Ron’s guitar sounds as mean as ever while Scott plods along with perfect timing throughout the set. Mike Watt dutifully provides the rhythm section with the necessary balls and Steve Albini’s production work provides the sound of the release with the perfect dynamics. Even saxophonist Steve Mackay manages to throw a little bit of Fun House freak out on the album closer “I’m Fried” with fairly adequate results. So with the rest of the participants off the hook, that leaves one Iggy Pop as the sole person responsible for everything wrong here.
The Weirdness is so utterly removed from the groundwork previously laid, one has to wonder how at least one track couldn’t have hinted at anything remotely similar to The Stooges. Sure, three decades have passed, but The Stooges have always seemed to be a band built on chaotic chemistry more than sheer musicianship. And chemistry is a funny thing, particularly when it was originally created in a trailer park in Michigan with a bunch of fellow miscreants. Could it be that Michigan is a far cry from sunny Florida, where The Weirdness ultimately took shape? Or could it be that, regardless of the origins of this reunion album, Iggy learned that you can never really go home, even with some familiar scoundrels backing him?
For me, The Stooges’ final musical statement was when the last beer bottle was thrown on Metallic K.O. And after listening to The Weirdness, I would have been throwing beer bottles at Iggy too, had I known he would jeopardize the band’s legacy like this.