Iggy Pop, all round mad
man, extreme entertainer, and one of the
originators of a whole musical cycle,
influencing such diverse acts as “David
Bowie”, “The Sex Pistols”, “Marilyn Manson”,
and “Hanoi Rocks”.
In 1972 Iggy was a spent force and living
in the gutter, (that’s not just a saying,
he was literally living on the streets).
His band “The Stooges” had just released
a couple of non – selling records, 1969’s
self titled debut and 1970’s “Fun House”,
which at the time meant nothing, but were
in actual fact wonderful garage albums,
which many bands far more famous would
have been well proud of. Elektra records
having fulfilled their contract with them
dropped them like a hot potato, at which
point “The Stooges” self imploded. But
Rock ‘n’ Rolls premier fairy godmother
“David Bowie”, was in town with his own
mentor “Tony Defries”, “David Bowie” was
a long term Iggy fan, and was determined
to help, firstly summoning Iggy to New
York, and then to London, England, when
no suitable musicians could be found,
one by one the original stooges were found
and relocated to good old U.K. Left alone
in C.B.S. studios in London for 12 days,
they came up with this slab of timeless
Rock ‘n’ Roll. The playing of the band
is absolute edge of your satin pants stuff,
the rhythm section of the Asheton’s brothers
is as heavy as any blacksmiths anvil,
these two may not have been the most technical
of musicians, but you don’t get that kind
of telepathic lock without blood. James
Williamson was the perfect foil for the
out of control vocalist, not so much a
partner in crime, more of an avenging
henchman cum angel, left to his own devices
he may not of been able to put together
his aunties garden rockery, but getting
the guitar to rock was not a problem,
a natural born hip swiveling, guitar slinger,
his work is all at the same time, sloopy,
furious, neurotic, but with plenty of
power, filling every possible gap on the
album with manic guitar solo’s.
Iggy himself turns in a vocal performance
that many would try and imitate, but very
few would attain, if your interested in
hearing about how a gristly American Rock
‘n’ Roll singer from the early seventies
should sound like then have a decko at
this boy on Raw Power. (We’ve not talking
Eagles or Journey here)
The lyrics although exceedingly politically
incorrect are also very perceptive, on
“Your Pretty Face” Iggy bawls out “You’re
pretty now, but just wait, you’re not
gonna have that weapon all the time”.
On “Death Trip” Iggy is not predicting
his own death but admitting he’s spitting
into the wind with his music, against
the record companies of the time, but
with a little help from his friends Iggy
is still smearing himself with peanut
butter today. Raw Power clocks in at just
under 34 minutes which is a bit short
in this day and age, but then the excellent
photography by Mick Rock for the artwork,
helps to make up for this, and there’s
not a filler amongst these gems.
Turn it up loud or you’ll miss the point.
Pawed by Mott The Dog
Remastered by Ella Crew
E-mail: review@mott-the-dog.com
