After the show, storm becalmed, he politely thanked us for letting him join us and left. We remembered it as the night we played with a human tornado. The song went down well and all came through intact. Within a minute, we were all backed up against the gear, having wisely chosen to stay out of his way to avoid injury. I introduced him, and the place went nuts as Iggy came running onto the stage. It occurred to me that he was going to kill us all. I looked over to stage left and there was Iggy, his eyes staring holes through me. Hours later, we were at the end of the set and I was about to introduce our surprise guest.
Iggy made up a chorus and we all made up notes. He came to the stage and we put together a blues-based jam that we could all remember. Everyone in the place just stood there staring. Much to my disbelief, he said yes.Ī while later, Iggy came to sound check.
I asked him if he wanted to come to sound check and perhaps work on something that we could do that night. I got down there immediately and ended up making a small contribution to the song “Wild America.” It was a blast to be singing live in the studio with Iggy. In the early autumn of 1992, we were touring through New Orleans and I got a call at the venue to come on over to Daniel Lanois' studio down the road and join Iggy in the studio for a song he was working on for his American Caesar album. I didn't bother repeating the brief conversation to anyone, as I reckoned there was nothing to it. Heads were nodded and the topic was changed. I offered that he should do the same with my band. I took this to be a pleasantry, something polite one says. He offered that I should come onstage and jam with him and his band sometime. Many years ago - I think I was at CBGB in New York City - I was talking with Iggy. Iggy Pop was making records before they were born, and he is still here. Far more just become irrelevant, fade away or die. Entire genres of music come and go, taking along with them their momentary heroes, some of whom survive only to bloat and have plastic surgeons cut away parts of their faces. The level of guts, genius and insanity that this requires is all his. The honesty is, at times, more than you want to deal with. Iggy Pop, weatherer of many storms, maker of many mistakes, perpetrator of numerous victories and failures, has let it all hang out. Anyone else? I'll answer - no, there is not. Nope, sorry, not Mick Jagger, who, in all his uncontested greatness, has left only a small fraction of the blood onstage that Iggy Pop has. There is no one alive in music who has been battling the forces of nature like Iggy. In our lifetime, there will be no other like him.
I have always maintained that Iggy Pop is the Heavyweight Champion of Rock & Roll. For this, there is a price to be paid, and most of us cannot and would not have the stamina or the sheer guts to foot the bill.Įlvis Presley has been crowned “the King of Rock & Roll” by someone somewhere, and apparently, it has stuck.
The passing years have made his face all the more charismatic his cheekbones and jaw line are more rugged, his eyes more fiercely focused.ĭoes he need an introduction? After all this time, do we have to point out that Iggy Pop was born James Osterberg in the great state of Michigan? Do we need to say that, together with the Asheton brothers, Ron and Scott, and Dave Alexander, he formed the Stooges, a band that is as essential to rock music as water is to life?įrom the '60s to this moment, Iggy Pop has been a solid reminder of what happens when an artist stays true to himself only and doesn't give a damn about the rest of it. It is perhaps a waste of time to assign an age to someone so uniquely ageless, but it gives me an excuse to write about him. Iggy Pop, who was born on April 21, 1947, turns 65 this Saturday.
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