Detroit's Rock & Roll Heyday Chronicled On 'Blowing Fuses Left And Right'

I loves me some good ol' Detroit Rock and Roll music and right after that, I loves hearin' me some stories about good ol' Detroit Rock and Roll music.

And then someone shows me a recent picture of the disrepair of the Grande Ballroom and then I begin hating that city all over again.

Wait up, Barry Gordy! I'm coming with you!

Another interview movie appealing to only to music geeks like me is now available and probably worth viewing.

Somewhat related: check out the Metro Times story from almost a decade ago detailing the whereabouts of Detroit rock photographer Leni Sinclair, most noted for that iconic MC5 shot from back in the day.

Press:

25 Year Old Interviews With Members of MC5 and Stooges Finally See Light Of Day in 
Blowing Fuses Left & Right on DVD and Deluxe DVD July 2

O-Rama LLC and MVD are proud to release Blowing Fuses Left And Right: The Legendary Detroit Rock Interviews digitally and on DVD on July 9.

The thought-to-be-destroyed original tapes from 1988 were recently re-discovered in an attic in NJ - the five hours worth of footage include interviews with Ron Asheton (the Stooges), Dennis Morgan (the MC5) and Rob Tyner (also from the MC5 in, apparently, his final interview).

A deluxe DVD will also be released that includes additional interviews with Scott Morgan (The Rationals), Russ Gibb (owner of Detroit's Grande Ballroom) and John Sinclair (manager of the MC5 and former head of the White Panther Party).

 

Iggy and the Stooges - Ready To Die

It’s not as bad as The Wierdness, but that’s not saying anything.

In fact, Iggy Pop isn’t saying anything relevant in the 21^st Century, and we could admittedly go back into the last few decades of the last century and probably say the same thing.

Which explains why the rock universe collectively yawned when it was announced that Pop was revamping the ole’ “Iggy and the Stooges” marquee for a reunion album. If Pop and the boys couldn’t get the hint that the crowd only wants to hear Raw Power cuts, they could have at least read the reviews at how sacrilegious the last record was and steered away from an album of all new material.

At the same time, even Iggy’s most recent solo records were utter dog shit with Beat ‘Em Up, Skull Ring, or any of those ridiculous Francophile records reminding us to use a plastic bag when handling anything related to James Osterberg.

The fact that Iggy was able to drag guitarist James Williamson away from a lucrative job as an executive is admirable and is the only thing that saves this record from the same amount of vitriol that I had for The Weirdness.

In fact, Williamson delivers some exceptional performances, but not enough to come close to the last time he and Pop worked together, 1977’s Kill City. His return sounds like a legitimate second wind, while Iggy sounds like he’s gearing up for retirement.

“Businessmen with dirty tricks/Followers of 666” is the best Jimmy can come up with, which is funny, considering the entire retirement package that he’s been milking for quite some time. There’s no way that Iggy could command the kind of guarantee that he’s been getting away with by using “The Stooges” somewhere in the concert flier if he were to stay solo.

Somehow, I don’t think that Williamson is as big of a pushover as the Asheton brothers were, which may explain why the guitarist’s dna is all over this record, saving it from complete ridicule.

After a few spins, I began humming some of Ready To Die’s more embarrassing tracks and actually enjoying some of the good ones, like “Burn,” “Dirty Deal,” and the title track.

Saxophonist Steve MacKay adds nothing more than a less charismatic Clarence Clemons to the proceedings and bassist Mike Watt remains so browbeaten that he’s nothing more than a hired-hand, plodding along in the background like a tourist.

Which makes Ready To Die the equivalent of a Carnival cruise experience, in a sense. It’s  pre-packaged trip that makes for a few good snapshots but little in terms of adding to the moniker’s detailed punk rock previous works of art.

The troubling thing is how Williamson’s stunning guitar resurgence does little to wake Pop from an effort that could have been something more than a face-saving tour souvenir.

Instead, Pop practically explains everything wrong with Ready To Die on the song “Job,” where he finally admits: “I got a job and I’m sick of it.”

Record Store Day 2013

Shortly before the doors open. Photo courtesy of their Facebook page.

I’d be lying if I told you that I wasn’t just more than a bit excited about Record Store Day, even when there was not a whole lot of things I noticed on the pre-sale list for 2013’s offerings that I felt I “had” to have.

But succumbing to the rare and exclusive aspect of R.S.D. is the thing that makes you mark the date on the calendar-conveniently located on 4.20 this year and further reminding you of how awesome it was to go to the record store, find a title with a double-gatefold sleeve which immediately served as your pot tray when you got back up to your bedroom.

The real joy of R.S.D. is indulging in the experience of going to a retail store devoted entirely of physical items that hold the music of your life and treating that time with care and devotion. This shit is like the Rosetta Stone for some of us, so let the luddites have their day.

The rest of you can download the shit.

I speak with no hint of cynicism or snobbery when I tell you that there is nothing like the experience of placing down your hard-earned money and buying a record. Like the 4.20 coincidence hints at: this is drug dealing. I’m convinced that that burst of scent, which happens the first moment you pop the cellophane seal possesses narcotic qualities. To the point where I’ve often caught myself grabbing a few extra whiffs before the smell dissipates and you’re left with the task of translating the grooves to memory.

The allure of the rarities also creates an environment similar to the Black Friday early risers. My place of worship-the incomparable Record Collector-always sports a line outside its entrance before it opens on Record Store Day, and like clockwork, I try to time my arrival immediately after the initial rush subsides.

I lovingly call these folks “amateurs,” because they rush the joint, grab their shit and go. It’s like fucking a girl with no hint of foreplay, and it’s wrong. Ideally, you want to grab your shit and hang out to shop for stuff you had no intention of purchasing.

But even that idyllic scenario has its exceptions.

Some collectors become so enamored with the items that they’re purchasing that they simply can’t wait to get home to listen to them. I’ll make an exception for these folks because they’re obviously junkies. Mama always told me “Never trust a junky” so best to have them adhere to the old “in-out” for fear that they’ll grab that Avenged Sevenfold vinyl right out of your hands.

And, no shit, there were Avenged Sevenfold rarities abound on R.S.D. Apparently, people take them seriously now.

The other exception are those experienced shoppers who know that to hang around a record store only means trouble. Like I said, they are drug dealers, and before you know it, you’ve moved from buying a big bag of dope to jamming condoms full of heroin up your rectum and driving back to the border at Tijuana.

I’m getting to this point, because after circling the R.S.D. center racks in the back of the Record Collector and lifting what was left from my list, I found myself mindlessly lusting after things that I don’t need at all.

At one point, I was eyeballing a sealed vinyl reissue of Iggy Pop’s The Idiot, drooling over its still sealed state for the simple reason that it would bring me closer to the experience of actually being excited about getting a new Iggy Pop record, circa 1977.

It’s crazy, I know. It’s almost like my ulterior motive was to later put Werner Herzog’s Stroszek on the Netflix queue and enjoy a nice quiet evening at home, fretting how my turntable won’t allow The Idiot to keep endlessly spinning like it did when they discovered Ian Curtis’ hanging corpse.

Before I was left to my own devices, I handed Record Collector owner Kirk Walther my handwritten list, immediately pointing out the title that possesses the biggest urgency, a picture-disc single of Gonn’s 4-song e.p. Est.1966.

Gonn are from my hometown of Keokuk, Iowa, and 45 years ago, they released a single “Blackout Of Gretely.” It was recorded in a studio with one microphone, and the results were sufficient for the track to get included on the wonderful Nuggets reissue that Rhino put out years ago.

I’ve written about them before, but my interest in Gonn was renewed a bit this past New Year’s Eve when I noticed that the band had put together a 50^th Anniversary package at a hotel near Keokuk. The package not only included overnight accommodations at the Comfort Inn & Suites in Fort Madison Iowa, but guests also received a pair of tickets to Gonn’s 50^th Anniversary performance that evening (and into the new year!), complementary champagne and party favors, plus a free Gonn 7” single.

I really wanted to go, but who watches the kids overnight on New Year’s Eve while your miles away watching a bunch of 65 year old guys playing a bunch of garage rock?

Targets acquired!

“I think we still have this one” Walther offered while stepping in to the center rack of R.S.D. goodies. He pulled out the sole copy left, reaffirming the feeling I had that I was the only record buyer gunning for the exclusive R.S.D. picture-disc edition of “Blackout Of Gretely.”

“The original copy sells for over $1,000” Kirk offered as he handed me the object of my desire. “Brother, everything else I get today is gravy!” I replied, thanking him for making my Record Store Day a success.

Here’s my complete list in no-particular order of preference, just a guide of what to look out for, providing some semblance of order until I circled the store twice before I realized the futility of it all.

That Iggy Pop record will have to wait another day.

Totale’s Record Store Day List:

Tame Impala – Tame Impala e.p.

Sold out almost immediately, which I guess should signify that these guys are officially big shit in college towns.

Pink Floyd – “See Emily Play” 7” (mono version)

Why do I even bother with these? It’s these kinds of releases that have people waiting in line before the door even opens. I already have this version on cd anyway, so this was nothing more than nostalgic jive, anyway.

Jimi Hendrix Experience - ”Hey Joe” 7” (mono version)

See above. For some reason, I’ve had a real hair up my ass thinking that I need to get the UK mono version of Are You Experienced? for no other reason than the fact that it’s available on vinyl in a reissue, and because I never had that edition. Don’t argue with my logic.

Shearwater/Sharon Von Etten – “Stop Draggin My Heart Around” 7”

Acquired! Admittedly, the end results of this live track aren’t as good as I’d hoped. It’s a bit rough around the edges, which probably means that this was something else live in the flesh, while the recorded results only prove how good the Heartbreakers are. The flip, “A Wake For The Minotaur” is where it’s at, making this purchase worthwhile.

Gonn – Est 1966 7” (picture disc)

Acquired! The “Blackout of Gretely” b/w “Paint In My Heart” another cut from 1966, which. according to the picture disc notes on the flip side, is featured in some movie from last year called Joint Body. No idea. There are two additional songs per side that are, evidently, new tracks recorded last year from a record called Fully Loaded. While I would hesitate at recommending such a title, the new cuts did little to get me excited about a 21^st Century Gonn while not so bad that I lifted the needle off the record early. Record 215 out of 1000!

Trashmen – Live At The Whiskey A Go-Go St Paul, MN 1966 7”

Sold out. This one hurt a bit and I even circled a few extra times to see if I had accidently missed this garage rock nugget.

David Bowie – “Stars (Are Out Tonight)” 7”

Put it back in the bin. “Stars” was the A-side b/w “Where Are We Now.” Since I have both versions already on CD, vinyl and MP3, I couldn’t justify the expense of the 7” that offered nothing new in return. I later saw a guy about my age clutching the last copy that I had put back. Good for him.

Chet Atkins – Black Jack 7” (e.p.)

Acquired! Probably the second most sought-after item on my list, so go me! A pretty penny too, at $15 I half expected a complementary Gretsch guitar for the purchase price. A 4-song set of unreleased Atkins tracks, including an alternate version of “Boo Boo Stick Beat,” that infectious music bumper you hear on N.P.R.’s All Things Considered. Released by Sundaze on an old RCA logo, this big-holed single has clear red vinyl and is packaged in nifty 50’s nostalgia. Not for sale.

Superchunk – “Void/Faith” 7”

Acquired! A friend of mine in northern Minnesota sent an urgent s.o.s. to be on the lookout for this one for him. A guy navigating the record bin with his infant reached for the same section where this find was sitting out in front at the same time as I did. We both withdrew our hands at the same time and I submissively asked “Did you want this one?” Thankfully, he did not, even when I clarified that I wasn’t speaking about the Shearwater/Sharon Van Etten single. This is Record Store Day, man! Be aggressive! Besides, how would I explain to my friend “Yeah, they had that Superchunk single you wanted, but I was a pussy and gave it up to a dude holding a baby.” Clear vinyl! Great song(s) (Fuck yeah, I played it)! I’m now planning to keep this one for myself. Fuck you, Jason! Record 186 out of 1000!

Orange Juice – Texas Fever (e.p.)

Sold out. The guy holding an infant got my hopes up when he told me that he saw this on the other side of the record bin. Mama didn’t raise no fool. I knew he was only trying to distract me from the section that contained the Superchunk single above. Besides, when I finally made it to the other side, it was not the title in question, but the last Orange Juice album before they split. I didn’t want that one.

Tegan & Sara – “Closer” 12”

Don’t give me no shit about my T/S fixation. This is one of a very select breed of artists that the entire family tolerates together. The little one likes to come down to the basement, the refuge of many a domesticated male, and ask me to play a record. I figured this one, featuring remixes of Tegan and Sara’s lead-off single to Heartthrob would get the little one dancing around the room with me. Well, there’s always Men Without Hats!

 

On the drive home. That's my badassed 4-Runner behind the tree. Jealous?

Aerosmith – Aerosmith

Reissued on 180-gram vinyl. But for $25?! Fuck that noise. I put this shit back because I know I can probably find an awesome original copy for tons cheaper. I know it’s probably not Aerosmith’s fault for the pricing, but it’s so easy to hate on them. Particularly for the past 30 years of shit they’ve done.

Black Milk – Synth Or Soul

Acquired! A badassed instrumental effort from this Detroit hip-hop producer, emanating from luscious cream yellow vinyl. This will get plenty of late-night spins and insure the spirit of 4.20 gets additional dates on the calendar.

Various Artists – Rough Guide To Latin Psychedelia and Rough Guide To Psychedelic Brazil

Acquired! Both of them! No idea why I placed these two compilations on my R.S.D. list, having never heard any of the artists before or experience with the songs included on these well-appointed collection. I’ll let you know how it works out.

That’s what I had on my list, but as I said before, half of not coming across as just another “amateur” on Record Store Day is spending some extra time circulating through the titles that were there before, and after, the special marketing drive ends.

I make sure to sniff around the used cd collections too, which are proving more and more to be a goldmine of good finds as people begin dropping off their cumbersome collections and Seven Mary Three titles.

Which is why I nearly wet myself when I noticed a copy of The Headless Horsemen’s Can’t Help But Shake, a title that I have-no shit-been on the lookout for the last quarter century.

The Headless Horsemen were a garage rock revival band hailing from New York City in the mid-to-late 80’s. They dressed in retro suits, but their music would fool you into believing you were listening to an honest-to-God Nuggets-era band that came and flamed with the best of them, leaving their bones to be haggled over by garage band collectors.

There’s now another outfit from the N.Y.C. area that’s using the Headless Horsemen name, this time a duo made up of Conner O’Neil and Fareed Sajan, but they are not the badassed purveyors of fine garage rock that I speak of.

Can’t Help But Shake was originally released on the now-defunct Resonance record label and adorned in kitschy 60’s attire, this is the real deal and I’ve finally found it. I originally had a copy of it on a treble-heavy eq’d cassette that’s probably at the bottom of some lost moving box somewhere, when it needs to be back in heavy rotation again.

It will be now, thanks to some extra navigating around the Record Collector, and is yet another example of why I need to spend more time in record stores, besides the requisite annual expo.

Waiting for the obligatory post-game cheeseburger  @ Lincoln Cafe in Mt. Vernon

If anything, and this was most certainly true for this year’s event, R.S.D. gives me an opportunity to devote at least one day to this lifelong obsession, obtaining a carte blanche morning by myself and my hobby without the interference of family or people who tag along. You know, the kind of people who hover behind you, signaling the hints that they’re ready to go while you’re keeping a running tally of the growing purchase price in your head.

Speaking of, I overheard Kirk and the other Record Collector staff members taking a look at the receipts after the first wave of purchases, comparing the tallies of some of the regulars who came in when the doors opened, dropping at least a car payment at the store before they left.

It sounded like a few regulars had even traveled to places like Chicago for Record Store Day, assuring that some titles would be available (the store-as is the case every year-sometimes gets overlooked on quantity and titles in general, losing them to higher volume stores in larger cities) to their greedy little hands at the stroke of midnight.

For me, my area record store (a half-hour commute away from my driveway) was enough, and the titles I did manage to grab were enough to warrant an obligatory spin of Lou Reed’s “Perfect Day” before the shrink-wrap was cut open with an X-Acto knife.

Before the first inhale of that sweet, vinyl smell.

Iggy Pop Bobblehead Announced

We may have a contender for the second Bobblehead in Totale's collection. 

Let me first share a glance at my J. Mascis bobblehead that's currently guarding over my small collection of muscle car Matchbox cars (still in their packaging, because I'm an idiot) and a larger scale version of The Dukes Of Hazard General Lee car, which was going for around $75 at last glance on Ebay.

J.'s not much of a security guard, which makes Iggy a prime candidate for the job.

Drastic Plastic Collectibles and Impact Merchandising Present: Iggy Pop, the second of their limited edition bobbleheads.

Since his raucous proto-punk, peanut butter smearing days with The Stooges, few "street walking cheetahs" have mastered the maniacal with as much grit, gusto and flair as Iggy Pop. This rare figure is hand-numbered and limited to 1000 pieces. It stands 7-inches high and is made of durable polyresin. Get yours today as they are sure to go fast..  

Pre-order here:

http://aggronautix.com/products.cfm?productid=67

The Baker's Dozen Rock Stars With Bad Teeth

 Shane McGowan (The Pogues)

 
 John Lydon/Rotten (Sex Pistols/P.I.L.)


Freddy Mercury (Queen)


Shaun Ryder (Happy Mondays)

 
Chrissy Amphlett (Divinyls)

 
Layne Staley

 
Iggy Pop

 
Keith Richards

 
Big Mama Thorton

 
Sonny Boy Williamson

 
Amy Winehouse

 
Allen Lanier (Blue Oyster Cult)

 
Pete Doherty (Libertines)

Iggy Pop - The Idiot

If you’re planning on taking your own life tonight, may I suggest Iggy Pop’s The Idiot.

Too soon?

Yes, it was thirty-two years ago tonight where Ian sat down to a viewing of Werner Herzog’s Stroszek and a spin of Iggy Pop’s The Idiot.

Then he went to the kitchen to grab a bite to eat.

His wife found him the next morning, and I assumed put all of this together. It seems plausible. And The Idiot is a really good album.

It time to think so; can you remember the first time you heard it? If you haven’t yet, remember it, write it down. I’m curious to hear what Iggy novices think about it or, like me, familiar with his repertoire to the point where you can compare it to Idiot.

Truth is, I hated it. The Idiot was so unlike anything else in Pop’s catalog, never mind that it sounded like Iggy was just as loaded as he was during Kill City, it was just that he had Bowie funding the dope for him.

It’s confirmed with the fact that Bowie made RCA hold on to The Idiot for just a little while longer so that Dave could be the first to market with a Berlin trilogy, making it seem that he was the one who taught dum dum Jim Osterberg everything.

Actually, The Idiot is the record that truly confirmed Pop was a certified genius, briefly breaking away from that dumb Michigan shtick just long enough to see that, even if he’s not fully in charge of his capacities or the control board, Iggy Pop is capable of delivering a left-field hit of epic proportions.

The sound is as unexpected today as it must of have sounded back then, the claustrophobia is menacing and there’s a general unease throughout it. This is the part of the review where I tell you that I really like the record now, but I think it’s important to explain how this weird-sounding thing planted a fucking seed in my head telling me to keep coming back to it.

The Idiot is the equivalent of sharing an 8-ball of cocaine with your friend and you decide to start recording the room at 4:00 in the morning. It’s that time when your forehead feels tingly and the coke becomes more of a need than anything else.

Oh wait, someone left this rhythm machine behind…

The irony is that the most “normal” song on the record is the one that begins by naming off all the friends who have o.d.’d or died. “Dum Dum Boys” produces a sensible song structure and good rock groove, but then Iggy appears like he’s had a bottle of wine or three, singin’ “Dah Dah Dah Dah Dum Dum Day.”

Because there are times after work, driving home just trying to shake of the fact that you’re no longer at work, when I feel like singing through the marbles of “All aboard for fun times,” just dreaming for a chance to stay up late in a coke-fueled panic.

By “Tiny Girls,” the dawn is starting to creep through the curtains when suddenly Iggy brings in a smooth sax. It takes the edge off, particularly when Bowie fucks around with the echo.

“Mass Production” is probably the best song Neu! Ever wrote, mainly because Iggy Pop sings it. It’s the record’s forgotten treasure, a big-rock ending to an anti-rock concept album with Iggy politely mentioning, “By the way, I’m going for cigarettes” after David stops fucking around with a synthesizer.

By my count, I’d say it took at least a dozen spins for me to get comfortable with The Idiot’s art-damaged interior, to find the pleasure in its icy restraints and outta mind adventurism.

But once there, I was hooked

Get me a pack of Marlboro’s, Jim.

Wayne Kramer & James Williamson Throbblehead

These look pretty cool.

No silly looking faces or weird expressions.

I've always liked Williamson's guitar work. That guitar lick on "New Values" is awesome; I always wanted House of Large Sizes to cover it.

Below is the release.

"Arriving this month are the next figures in the GUITAR GODS series...

Brother Wayne Kramer, founder of Detroit's radical rock group MC5, and James Williamson, best known for co-writing and playing on Raw Power in the protopunk rock band Iggy & The Stooges and his contributions Kill City with Iggy Pop, as well as producing New Values for Iggy Pop.

Both guitarists were named in Rolling Stone Magazine's "100 Greatest Guitarists of All Time". Both figures deliver a signature riff at the push of a button and are displayed in a multi-panel box, stand at 7 inches tall, are made of a lightweight polyresin, and retail for $24.95.

The Wayne Kramer figure is limited to 750 numbered units. Wayne dons his White Panther Party threads, curly hair, and American flag guitar. Brother Wayne's inimitable style was the first to combine rock with free jazz to create the genre's most unique result -- high-energy sci-fi hard rock and roll.

Order and sound clip

The James Williamson figure is limited to 500 numbered units. James is accurately sculpted right down to his signature threads, hipster hair, and Sunburst Solid Body Guitar. James' guitar style is widely acknowledged to have been an influential guitar style for 100's of guitarists from the Sex Pistols to the Red Hot Chili Peppers to Green Day. James was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of fame in 2010 along with the other members of the Stooges."

New Stooges Book Released: Head On-A Journey Through The Michigan Underground

There's a newly available American edition of The Stooges: Head On biography that's available in the U.S. after originally only being released in 2007 in the U.K.

Hopefully, there's an entire section completely devoted to why the band went from a trilogy of must-have records to a band with three must-have records and one ill-conceived reunion album produced by someone (ahem, Steve Albini) who should have known better.

The good news is that Scott Ashton participated for the update.

The bad news is that Scott Ashton only previous discussion was to try to convince Iggy how much his name sounded like "Rock Action."

Here's the press release:

The Stooges: Head On-A Journey Through the Michigan Underground

Written by Brett Callwood

Foreword by Alice Cooper

Afterword by Glenn Danzig

Published by Wayne State University Press

Size: 6 x 9, Pages: 200, Illustrations: 14

"With each 'Stooge' getting close to equal billing, Callwood's research results in a thorough exploration-and explanation-of the band's seismic importance to the
Detroit music scene. Interesting, amusing, and engaging, The Stooges: Head On will enlighten even the biggest Stooges fan. -TL, Rhythm

"The drugs! The debauchery! The decadence! The wild-man performances from Iggy Pop, a man with a taste for peanut butter-not to eat, but to smear on his chest-and broken glass, which he likewise worked into his flesh while on stage. It's all here in Brett Callwood's exhaustive account of the rise and demise of the Stooges, the Michigan band who effectively invented punk rock." -David Cheal, Telegraph

"It's a good book. I thank you for writing it." - Iggy Pop

If the MC5 were Detroit's political spokesmen for the disenchanted youth of the 1960s, then the Stooges were the loutish kids, heckling from the back of the room. While conventional wisdom says they could barely play their instruments, the Stooges left an indelible mark on the world of punk rock, and the band's initial three albums-The Stooges, Fun House and Raw Power-are bona fide classics. In The Stooges: Head On author Brett Callwood treats the band's story not just as an early chapter in the career of its famous front man, Iggy Pop, but from the Stooges' beginnings at the end of the 1960s, to its end in the early 1970s, and to its reunion in 2003 through the present.

"Writing a Stooges biography was a no-brainer for me," Callwood states. "My first book is about the MC5 and in researching that while still living in London, I had traveled to Detroit / Ann Arbor and fallen in love with the whole area and its music. I had made many friends and established many contacts that were and are associated with both the MC5 and the Stooges, so that made the process easier to get started. Also, when I wrote this book there wasn't a decent Stooges book on the shelves. There are a lot of Iggy books out there, but mine is the first full Stooges biography."

In compiling this exhaustive account of the band's history, Callwood interviewed all of the central and sometimes Stooges members, including Iggy Pop, Ron and Scott Asheton, James Williamson, Mike Watt, Steve Mackay, and Scott Thurston, and largely lets the band tell its own story in numerous long quotes. Callwood details the band's genesis as teenage friends in Ann Arbor, their time living together in their legendary party houses in the 1960s, and the recording of the three original Stooges albums. He examines the addition of James Williamson to the band on Raw Power and how it changed the band's sound and dynamic, along with the band's fateful meeting with David Bowie on its first British tour.

As Iggy broke out as a solo artist during the 1970s and 1980s, Callwood charts the Asheton brothers' post-Stooges experiences, with Ron's turns in The New Order, Destroy All Monsters, and Dark Carnival, and Scott Asheton's time with the Farleys and Sonic's Rendezvous Band. He also provides an overview of Iggy's solo career, the seeds of a reunion that were planted with a collaboration on Iggy's Skull Ring album, and the eventual reformation of the band and the recording of their fourth album, The Weirdness, in 2007.

Originally published in the U.K. in 2007, The Stooges: Head On has been revised to expand on the original story and also to consider Ron Asheton's untimely death in 2009 and his musical legacy, the band's fate without Ron, and the Stooges' long-overdue introduction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2010.

"Scott didn't want to talk at all for the first edition... He rarely does interviews," said Callwood. "However, after his brother passed away and I was writing for this American edition, he talked to me and really opened up. It was a very moving, humbling experience."

Wayne State University Press is a distinctive urban publisher committed to supporting its parent institution's core research, teaching, and service mission by generating high quality scholarly and general interest works of global importance. Through its publishing program, the Press disseminates research, advances education, and serves the local community while expanding the international reputation of the Press and the University.

Stooges Raw Power Live: In The Hands Of The Fans DVD

Hopefully, this will be better than the first reunion DVD release, Live In Detroit.

Then again, do you really need a DVD of the reunited Stooges?

If you do, the following promotional copy is for you.

Iggy & the Stooges Raw Power Live: In the Hands of the Fans is the visual document of the reformed Stooges' (Iggy Pop, Scott Asheton, James Williamson, Steve Mackay, Mike Watt) Raw Power performance at the All Tomorrow's Parties Festival on Friday, September 3, 2010.



Of the performance, Ben Ratliff of the NY Times writes, "Iggy Pop, now 63, knew that his body language translated into still photographs resembling Mannerist paintings...The Stooges attacked the album's eight songs, in a different order, just about perfectly."



Iggy and the band sound flawless as they rip through the archetype riffage of "Search and Destroy," "Raw Power," "Gimmie Danger" and more.



"Getting this top-notch performance of the entire Raw Power album by The Stooges realized a life long dream," Iggy Pop "This shit really sizzles and we are so obviously a crack band in a class of our own."



MVD Entertainment Group, an industry leader in producing and distributing music-related audiovisual content, launched the In the Hands of the Fans series with the intention of utilizing the energy and talents of fans, who by means of an online video submission contest, win the opportunity to film a performance of their favorite band in HD and then interview the band members after the performance. The result is a high quality, low cost, unique program that is part concert film and part reality TV show.



And here's a link to a review of the cd version of Raw Power Live: In The Hands Of The Fans that pissed off a few Stooges fans.

Iggy Pop - Roadkill Rising

First things first: what the fuck is up with the cover art.

I was originally going to encourage everyone to simply dismiss this album on general principal alone. Sure, William Stout’s cover art is a tasteless reminder of how lazy some poster art got during the 90’s, but it also screams at how lazy Pop has gotten during the past few decades too.

The thing is, the only time I’ve ever seen Iggy live is during a tour for the infinitely shitty Beat ‘Em Up tour, and you know what? It fucking ruled.

So if you look at the fine print to Roadkill Rising, you’ll set that it’s a box set collection of Iggy Pop bootlegs, live performances from ’77 to present day. And since Iggy live can turn a mediocre album into a transcendent event the moment he tucks that cock in his pocket, you may want to entertain the idea of checking this collection out.

Sure, you can hear the danger leak out over the years, but it’s nicely consistent given the dramatic downfall of his studio efforts and blatant cash-ins of Stooges reunions and obligatory festival dates.

The early material features tons of great audience interaction, when Iggy was still faced with challenges, boos, and verbal threats. After limping through “Nightclubbing,” in one early 80’s show, the crowd lets him know they don’t appreciate his half-assed attempt. “I don’t want to play anymore for ya….Kiss my ass!” he responds.

None of it does any good. At one point he stops a weak performance of “One For My Baby (And One For The Road)” to chastise the audience who keep barking for the “hits.”

Guess who wins?

It’s stuff like this that makes even the less-than-stellar moments from those early shows, well, stellar. This is the Iggy that help foster his reputation today and it’s wonderful that someone had the good sense to hit the “record” button, regardless of how shitty it sounds fidelity-wise.

Somehow, all of this made Iggy into a reputable performer to the point where you want people to start heckling at him while he’s jiving during the dismal Preliminaires at the end of this box set.

So skip the last disc if you must, the first three make up for it. Roadkill Rising is probably as good as a collection as you’re going to get from Mr. Pop, particularly after you’ve added Lust For Life and The Idiot to your collection. I’d argue to keep going to Soldier-but in a pinch, Roadkill Rising is a good place to remind yourself why we’re still talking about him even after a few decades of questionable releases.

For the asking price of thirty bucks on this box set, Roadkill Rising manages to be the most satisfying release from Iggy in quite some time and it proves that he's still worth a million in prizes the moment he heads out on stage.

Iggy & The Stooges - Raw Power: Live In The Hands Of The Fans

After soiling the Stooges name with The Weirdness, Iggy brings James Williamson out of musical retirement for a final injection into Ig’s 401K plan before heading to Florida full time.

And to be honest, I’m so ready for him to retire that it’s scary.

I’m finally at a point where so much shit has clouded his career that I’m having a tough time justifying sticking with him this long. I hold similar resentment with Lou Reed, but Iggy still had the ability to deliver a strong punch live.

I was intrigued by the notion of a Williamson/Pop reunion with an obligatory run through of Raw Power and, by default, the promise of a live recording of that album by these much older comrades.

To call the results less than worthy because of the band’s collective age is not fair: Mike Watt still plays like a kid in the candy store and James Williamson sounds like he’s having a blast. The moment you hear him in the opening track-slightly off thanks to a revamped track listing-you’ll hear how seems to be making up for a quarter-century of silence with a punishing tone.

The problem here-as it was with The Weirdness-is Iggy, and yes, you can attribute it to age. As fuck-it-all frightening as he sounded on the original, he sounds winded here, hoarse from the years and content with letting the bite of his delivery be reduced to a bark.

On “Shake Appeal,” he’s completely drained, spewing out syllables that barely manage to stay in time. Actually, that’s better than Rock Action’s plodding timekeeping on “I Need Somebody” which slows Ig to a point where he sounds more like On Golden Pond era Katherine Hepburn than the Grandfather of punk.

At the end of “Death Trip,” Iggy yells “That was fuckin’ Raw Power....Turn on the lights and gimmie some fuckin’ air!” It’s almost sacrilegious how-after this album was originally released-Iggy famously invited the audience to throw shit at him before bragging at how much money he was making for the gig. Compared that to now, where Iggy’s asking for fucking oxygen while keeping mum on what’s obviously a bunch more than the 10K figure he was tossing around on Metallic K.O.
Admittedly, I’m getting way too worked up on what is merely a limited-edition ploy at getting record buyers excited for Record Store day. And when you consider the amount of endless garbage that has turned Raw Power outtakes into a cottage industry, I shouldn’t put Raw Power: Live In The Hands Of The Fans on too high of a pedestal.

I only do because the original Raw Power is still a critically important album for me personally. Even the rawer-Raw Power mix is a bit weird to me. So if you’re making a claim at over recreating only the most decadent glam-rock album ever made, then you shouldn’t subject even a limited run document with such bullshit like fade outs after every tune, sub-par performances, and an aged frontman who’s no longer able to will his body to sound younger than it really is.

Iggy and the Stooges Prepare Live DVD

Normally, I don't like using this blog for shameless product promotion, but there was an intriguing dvd in the works that sounds like it could be worth checking out and the idea is kind of novel too.

A few years ago, the Beastie Boys created a live dvd that was shot entirely by the fans and the results were pretty, ahem, awesome.

MVD Entertainment Group is taking a bit of that very idea and turning it into what could be a series. Here's some of the information I received in my inbox:

On Friday, September 3rd 2010, Iggy and the Stooges are putting themselves IN THE HANDS OF THE FANS...

MVD Entertainment Group has launched the site www.InTheHandsOfTheFans.com to offer fans a once in a lifetime opportunity to film and interview Iggy and the Stooges performing the seminal punk rock masterpiece RAW POWER at the All Tomorrow's Parties Festival on September 3, 2010. Six lucky fans will be chosen by way of a video submission contest to join director Joey Carey on location at the Stardust Theater at Kutchers' Country Club in Monticello, NY. This marks the reunion between Iggy Pop and powerhouse guitarist James Williamson as well as original Stooges drummer Scott "Rock Action" Asheton. Also featuring Mike Watt on bass and Steve Mackay on saxophone.



The contest is based on fans submitting short high definition video segments asking Iggy and the Stooges interview questions, or demonstrating why they should win the contest. Winners of the contest will film and interview Iggy and the Stooges at All Tomorrow's Parties. This fan shot footage, along with the contestant video submissions, will be crafted into a high definition longform program, which will be part concert film and part reality TV show about the journey of the fans.

So who knows, like the Iggy and the Stooges reunion itself, it could be awesome or it could be a complete bust. One has to think that James Williamson's involvement with this whole reunion lends more potential than the involvement of the Asheton brothers.

Not that there's anything wrong with the Asheton brothers, it's just that they're from Michigan and there's something about the Wolverine state that breeds some pretty strange cats.

Iggy Pop included.

In other Stooge news, newcomer Mike Watt is fresh out of knee surgery and posting his thouroughly entertaining spiels again at is Hoot page.

I can't believe a guy as good as Watt still gets down on himself when he thinks he isn't giving Iggy his best performance on each and every night. What a stand up dude.

The OCD Chronicles: Iggy Pop - "Funtime"

It’s not even my favorite Iggy solo album and I’m going to admit that it took me over a year to warm to it, but there are moments when The Idiot is an awesome mood compliment.

The deadpan of Mr. Osterberg on “Funtime,” particularly the line “Everybody we like your lips. Baby baby we like your pants” fit better than a pair of business casual khakis as I make my way out of the car to walk into work.

You see, I’m in dire need of a vacation, even during a time when the company is going out of their way to make me feel appreciated, inside there a moments when any small ailment makes me feel like calling in sick.

I press forward. Counting the days to my vacation, which officially begins in 3 days and 20 hours from now.

But who’s counting?

I’m in a robot right now, spewing out phony enthusiasm just like the off-kilter chorus of “All aboard for fun time.”

I can walk from my car in the parking lot to my cubicle in the span of “Funtime.”
I can drive from my driveway and reach my parking lot all in the span of The Idiot.

By the way, I can do the same thing with Devo’s Q: Are Wee Not Men? A: We Are Devo! too, so it’s not that unique.

Here's a version of "Funtime" that's ten-times better than the one on The Idiot.

Raw Power Reissues

Where does one start when jumping into The Stooges?
For me, it began with Raw Power.
The original mix.
Bad choice.
At least for a little bit. I kept reading how great it was and I stuck with it. I went beyond the weird mix placement-chocked it up to Bowie inexperience at not knowing what to do with such primordial ooze-and I listened to what was taking place individually.
Crunching guitars?
Check.
End of days vocals?
Check.
Everything else, well, I guess I'll have to wait for the reissue.
I can't believe it's been over a dozen years since Iggy re-wrote the album with a brand new mix. It totally rules by the way-I wish I would have had it when I first bought it-because it turns everything up to eleven and sounds as close to the real thing that we can probably get.
But there's something endearing about that original mix, the way it sounds unlike anything you've ever heard before and it just barks at you for a half-hour. Without understanding a word or figuring out a note of what's being played, you just know that The Stooges circa 1973 is suffering from serious brain damage.
Either mix is essential, just get the damn thing already.
Or if you're like me, buy it again.

Rites Of Spring Live Performance

I befriended a young guy at work who has remarkably sharp music tastes for someone his age. He’s infatuated with much of SST’s catalog and has a penchant for the Minutemen.
The other day he asked what cd he should buy and-knowing he had Raw Power and The Stooges the logical next step was Fun House.
Fun House qualified as one of the ten best rock albums ever in my book, and sure enough, the recommendation was a success.
He mentioned that he had found Rites of Spring and ordered their album.
Again, another winner.
Evidently, he noticed that there were a few posts of Rites of Spring up on You Tube. I distintly remember hearing about how great their shows were, but have not seen any real live footage.
Until now.
God bless You Tube.
Here’s the last song at a Rites of Spring gig at the 9:30 Club in Washington D.C. from 1985. Guy destroys his guitar and starts climbing the walls of the stage.
Awesome.

No Soup For You!

True story: I was messing around online at work and I noticed that the number one search item for a few hours today was Soupy Sales.
What on Earth, in this day and age, are people searching for Soupy Sales on the internet?
And then I noticed that Soupy passed away today.
The dude rubbed shoulders with the Rat Pack, knew a bunch of hip jazz musicians, and sired on-time Iggy Pop and David Bowie rhythm section members Tony and Hunt Sales.
I never really paid much attention to Soupy; he was after my childhood and I really only remember him from those game shows in the 70's. I do remember my father speaking poorly of him as an unfunny hack. Balance that with Iggy Pop's claim (on the Dinah Shore show) that Soupy sales was an influence on The Stooges.
When in doubt, trust in Iggy.
Here's Soupy with a surprise visit from Alice Cooper.

Raw Power Reunion

Forgive me if The Weirdness has turned me into a jaded prick, but I’m totally taking the idea of a Raw Power-era Stooges reunion with a heaping spoon of Morton’s salt.
Did you hear The Weirdness?
The shit was so bad that I had to listen to The Stooges and Fun House about a hundred times each before I remembered how they were one of the greatest bands ever.
I don’t get it. Why not just do a reunion bit, throw in a few new tunes if you must, and then release a live cd/DVD to capitalize on the whole venture.
But no, they had to do a new album with all new material and they practically diminished Steve Albini’s reputation in the process. For a dude that so righteously preaches of wrong/right + bad/good, you would have thought that he would have tapped an aging Iggy and said, “I can’t be a part of this career destruction. Call Butch Vig.”
Raw Power was the first Stooges record I bought. It was the weird Bowie mix, so it took a while to warm up to. A dude named Tom who owned a record store in Waterloo told me to hook up three speakers in some strange sequence-a trick he learned from the liner notes of a Brian Eno’s Ambient 4: On Land album.

You know what? Something did happen to that Raw Power album when I set the speakers up to do this. It suddenly seemed like Bowie’s weird-ass mix was intentionally designed for this type of set up, as impractical as it was at the time. Remember, this was before 5:1, 6:1, 7:1…hell, it was before surround sound…and Eno apparently discovered all of this through sheer accident.
Raw Power was later re-mixed by Iggy so that all of its badass glory was unleashed. Call it Rawer Power.
So the idea of this era of the Stooges reforming (somewhat, obviously) is extremely appealing to me. The Asheton brothers served Iggy well as hometown fuckups who stumbled on to genius, but it was James Williamson who took that genius and attempted to move forward with it. And I’ll be goddamned if he didn’t help do just that: Raw Power is just as groundbreaking as Fun House and yet it’s a different beast all together. Fun House sounds like the world imploding on itself while Raw Power sounds like the mutants sorting through the rubble.
Williams ended his time with Iggy right around Soldier and the two haven’t spoken since. If you’ve never seen Iggy around this time, check out the Tom Snyder Tomorrow show DVD featuring him; Iggy is obviously in piss-poor shape, occasionally gnashing his rotting teeth from what could only be excessive drug use. Williamson is too much of a legitimate musician to tolerate such shenanigans and he left the industry-read that: the INDUSTRY-entirely. The dude has barely picked up the guitar since that time and hasn’t performed live since the mid-70’s. All of this doesn’t bode well for any worthy new material.

But a live setting? Who knows. I just hope they’re not seriously entertaining the idea of a new album, even though there’s already talk of it. Someone needs to remind Iggy and company that there’s little interest in a new record-The Weirdness only sold 30,000 copies-and those that our interested just want to hear the band play Raw Power in its entirety and maybe a few other Stooges tracks. I wouldn’t mind if the pair also work on some Iggy solo material that Williamson was a part of (“Dog Food” from Soldier, “The Endless Sea” from New Values would be awesome and a few tracks from the pair’s Fun City album).
If they can keep it restricted to the stage (and if Iggy can keep his questionable banter down a notch) then this could be a good thing. If it becomes another idea of a reunion album on top of everything, this could become another reason to question Iggy’s logic as of late.
Back in the day, we could always rely on Iggy to make bad choices for the sake of rock and roll. Today, it seems that many of his bad choices are the result of looking ahead to a retirement package.

Open Letter To Iggy Pop

Dear Iggy:
I got a chance to see you and the rest of the Stooges the other night on the 2008 Rock & Roll Hall of Fame ceremonies. You looked good, I mean you always look good, but you looked better than usual for some reason. Did they put some make up on you? I’m just asking.
Anyway, I originally thought the idea of Madonna inviting you, a fellow Michigan badass, to perform on stage instead of her was kind of cool. It was like she was acknowledging that you should have been inducted before her, which I totally agree with.
But I started to feel differently. She lives in England, which shouldn’t mean anything I know, but I get this incredible feeling of pretentiousness when I see Madge lately. And when I placed that feeling with the vision of you on stage singing her songs, it looked like she was pleased with her selection of white trash minstrels, punking up the festivities like it was somehow relevant.
It isn’t anymore, and you above anyone else should understand this.
So I’m not sure of the motivation here, because Madonna’s past has been littered with people who have served her well before getting disposed of after they’ve served their purpose.
I’m not suggesting that she’s some kind of succubus and, having read I Need More, I’m confident that you can handle yourself around the ladies. I just think the idea was a poor one and the performance itself was shitty.
I’m starting to worry about you.
It started with that album that you did with Good Charlotte or whoever, and then it really magnified itself with that piece of shit Stooges reunion album that shouldn’t have gone beyond the drawing boards or at the very least, the obligatory reunion tour.
The last few years have started to feel like that incredibly awful dry spell that was most of the 80’s with you and I’m concerned that you’re thinking about calling up Don Was again for another round. With that being said, even that album is better than The Weirdness.
So if you need some free career advice Jimmy, I’m your man. Let’s face it: you’re not getting younger and there is a shelf life to all of this as I’m sure your body is beginning to tell you. It is critical that you start exiting with a keen eye on your legacy instead of potentially ruining it with ill-advised reunions, frighteningly bad late-period albums, and just plain silly cameos for institutions that haven’t even acknowledged your greatness yet.
It’s only a matter of time, probably this year in fact, when you’ll finally make the cut. But really, who gives a shit at this point? Fuck Jann Wenner! Get your head out of the Carnival Cruise Line and back into the trailer!
Your pal,
Todd Totale

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.

The Stooges-Rhino Re-issues

The Stooges-The Stooges

The Stooges-Fun House

A long time ago, I ran across The Stooges’ Fun House used and knew it would be worth the minor investment. What I didn’t know was that my minor investment held the key to one of the greatest rock albums of all time and an album that I would repeatedly spin ever since. Primitive and retarded, this is music that anyone could play but very few could really execute.
The first exposure to The Stooges that I had came with a Personics mix tape that I made at a Tower Records store in Los Angeles. Personics was an 80’s attempt at capitalizing on the mix tape “market.” For about a buck a song (back then, a hefty fee) you could should from thousands of songs in a book, type in the corresponding number and within ten minutes the tape and a custom cover was made using digital (read: cd) sources. Fidelity was good, and I believed the system utilized a high speed dubbing technique and an early version of what would be a standard consumer product known as a jukebox cd player. Anyway, the choices of songs were pretty bizarre. Typically, you didn’t find any recent hits that you could include on your mix tape. I specifically remember Naked Eyes’ “Always Something There To Remind Me” was the most dubbed song in the Personics’ catalog, a full three years after it originally appeared on the U.S. charts. You also wouldn’t find complete albums, which made sense because you could inevitably the complete album cheaper than if you made it through Personics. I still have my tape, entitled “Tenderfoot” and it included such gems as The Gap Band’s “You Dropped A Bomb On Me,” Johnny Cash’s “Folsom Prison Blues,” and The Stooges’ “1969.” I included the song on a whim after previewing it and it started off Side A of my overpriced mixtape.

In college, we had a shitty basement in the house we lived in and it included a stinky couch the previous tenants had left us. We moved a bunch of weed and music instruments down there and when the weed took effect, sometimes we performed. A friend recently scored enough cash to buy a Fender Twin combo amp. He loaded it up and visited our basement with a Gibson SG in his free hand. The dude later recorded a single for a local label, but back then he could barely play in time. You can’t really fuck up a Stooges song, but he managed to give it a shot but constantly speeding up. I’ve got the tape of that “session” somewhere, and you can hear me start cracking up when I get to the part where Iggy goes “Well come on!” in the song. It was funny to me that we were managing to fuck up a Stooges song. That gives you an idea of how bad it sounded.
Swear to God, several years later another group of guys in another basement that I was in managed to extend The Stooges “No Fun” into a thirty minute version and the results were breathtaking. At least it seemed to be at that moment.
That’s the underlying brilliance of The Stooges: songs so primitive that it takes effort (or an out of time guitarist) to really fuck them up. Hundreds of bands covered them Hundreds of bands copied them This may explain why Rhino Handmade released every note of the “Funhouse” sessions in a limited edition box set. It quickly sold out and now fetches around $500 on Ebay. It doesn’t explain why someone would actually pay that amount just to hear repeated versions of the same song over and over. But if you’re retarded like me, there’s a voice in your head that thinks paying that amount is completely rational. Unfortunately, the financial situation makes a purchase like that totally out of the question.
So Rhino does a gracious thing and goes back to the original masters for the first two albums, lovingly spruces up the sound, repackages the shit and throws in a few rarities on a second disc. God bless ‘em: there is not two other albums more deserving of such treatment.
The debut Stooges album, initially panned by critics, stands as a refreshing rock reminder during a time when psychedelic excess was the norm. Produced by Velvet Underground member, John Cale, the first album is probably the band’s weakest. That being said, it’s the debut that gave us “1969,” “I Wanna Be Your Dog” and “No Fun,” which means that it’s better than 95% of the shit that’s currently in your record collection. Cale originally tried to make the record into a Warholian art record fronted by white trash kids from Michigan. The end results, which some selections are included in the second disc, are as dismal as it sounds. For probably the first time in history, the record label was right to demand the recordings get remixed entirely. They only include about four of the mixes, thankfully, and so the rest of the disc is filled out with alternate vocal tracks and full length versions. Everything is duplicated (“No Fun” makes a total of three appearances on the set) because the band didn’t have their shit together enough to realize an entire long player. Three out of the original eight tracks were written during the actual recording.
Elektra records signed the band at the same time they swooped up the MC5, but oddly tried to package them into the same mold as The Doors. Even the original artwork mirrors The Doors’ debut and the track “We Will Fall” comes off as very nearsighted attempt at trying to match wits with “The End.” It comes nowhere close, as you might expect, and it sounds completely out of place with the rest of the album.
When you get to the second album, “Fun House,” the band is completely out of their minds and who better to capture that mental state than the former keyboard player to The Kingsmen? This album is better than 99% of the shit that’s currently in your record collection. From the opener “Down On The Street” to the chaotic closer “L.A. Blues,” this is one of the greatest American rock albums ever recorded.
Here’s where the bonus tracks get pretty fucking interesting: The second disc lifts so key tracks included on the “Complete Fun House” material. You get an early take of “Down On The Street” that shows the band finding the song’s groove. The lyrics also devolve and it’s cool to watch Iggy toy with the phrasing of his hollers.
Here’s where the crazy Doors’ comparisons continue too: the mono, single mix of “Down On The Street” features some pointless Ray Manzarek organ fills throughout the song. It’s a cool little curio that demonstrates Elektra records had no clue how to market these loony boys.
Packaging and artwork are enhanced on both releases and you get a lot of stuff for the same price as a regular release. What you’re paying for, whether it’s $16.99 or $500, is the music: perhaps the most perfect documentation of late 60’s/early 70’s Detroit rock music that slayed anything and everything happening around the country at that time. And some thirty five years later, it slays pretty much everything that’s happening around the country today.