"1969 and you're 15 years old. For the previous three years you've been swamped in lysergic symphonies, marathon guitar solos (even worse: drum solos) and blissful acoustic drippie-droning about pixies and bed-sits. The raw garage thrash that careered out of the '64 UK R&B explosion seem like a distant memory. Even the Stones had a touch of blurred vision in '67 before getting back to blues basics on Beggars Banquet. In '69, there were only mavericks, madmen and geniuses to rely on, like Jimi, the Doors, Beefheart and Tim Buckley, maybe the Velvet Underground if they survived. It would be a few more months before Mott The Hoople came along to sow the seeds of UK punk rock.
Then, one Sunday afternoon in August 1969, John Peel was doing his radio show. He was excited - and not about the Woodstock Festival raging that weekend either. Peely had just got a new import on Elektra Records that he wanted to play. Maybe we were expecting some folk-rock like label-mates Earth Opera. On the other hand, this was the label that had unleashed the Doors and released the first MC5 album the previous March. John's new hot biscuit was by a group called the Stooges and the track was 'Little Doll'. I know this because I wrote it down in FUCKING GREAT BIG LETTERS on the back of an acid-rock poster I was trying to paint. Buzzsaw guitar riff, Bo Diddley beat mutant, waywardly aggressive bassline and this bloke crooning:
"Liddel doll ah can't forget, smokin' on a cigarette."
That was Iggy Pop. Spitting, snarling but offhand and blank at the same time. Like he didn't care. It reminded me of a depraved, less-musical Doors - without the organ. The Seeds and the Standells were in there too.
I had to get this album. And did [when I finally managed to track down a copy]. Years later, I realised that the reason that the Sex Pistols didn't turn my whole world upside down in '76 was because, great though they were, I had already tasted pure, unrefined punk rock six years earlier. The whole shock, simplicity and raw power angle had already been taken about as far as it could get by the Stooges. They dealt a simple message of adolescent, street corner boredom and frustration in a way that hadn't been heard since the early Stones. The Stones have been called the original punk rock group. That was true in the sense that their early music was snotty and primitive and they outraged parents like nobody since Elvis (and he was swiftly army-sanitised). But the Stones obviously respected the music that had inspired them. Keith was more concerned with replicating Chuck Berry's guitar solos and furthering the cause of Chess Records than upsetting older people's petty morals. He just did that naturally. Apart from Keith, the rest of the Stones came from nice, middle-class backgrounds.
James Osterberg grew up in a trailer park [although his mum was a teacher and he was bright enough at school to become president of the Student Council]. The Stooges were street corner punks with no further mission in life than to get laid, loaded and watch TV. The Stooges were the first bona fide punk band because they really didn't give a shit. They were dysfunctional. They could barely play any instruments when they started. They wanted the trappings of fame but couldn't be arsed to put in the graft. They were out of their minds on anything that became available. Ron Asheton's passion for groups like the Who was only matched by his obsession with Nazi regalia (much of '76's brief and ill-advised flirtation with such imagery came from Ron's swastika-sporting menace, as had Johnny Thunders' earlier swastika-sporting on the cover of Melody Maker). The Stooges were bored shitless and nihilistic. The US garage band ethic of 64/65 taken to its outer limits with cheap booze and drugs. Iggy felt an affinity with the primal spirit and simplicity of the blues, but he wasn't looking to provide a faithful recreation. We would never see the original line-up's infamous stage act but, according to witnesses, it made the album seem tame.
Not since the Velvet Underground had a band come along that so upset the ruling hippy echelons. But the Velvets had trendy Warhol connections, arty undercurrents, complex lyrics and a qualified avant garde trailblazer in the form of John Cale. At the beginning, the Stooges had nothing but noise, attitude and a couple of lucky breaks. They came on like a Molotov cocktail that had to be swiftly trampled under the carpet. Only now can their true importance be realised as the shockwaves just get bigger. This was punk rock's blueprint. They say punk wouldn't have happened without the New York Dolls, but that other classic destined-to-implode urban supernova couldn't have happened if Johnny Thunders hadn't had his attitude shaped by the Stooges (and the MC5).
Because they only played one show in the UK, the whole legend of Iggy Pop and the Stooges came from film footage, blown-up stories and three monumental albums. If anyone has ever embodied the whole punk rock ethic it is this band. Many have come close - none have eclipsed them. In 1969, they were aural leprosy - visually repellent. Exciting to some, antagonistic to others - thanks to Iggy's self-destructive psycho-freak show. Over 35 years later, they are up there with the very greatest bands of all time. If it hadn't been for them and the MC5, we might not have had a '76 punk explosion. They really mean that much. This is why and [some of] what happened...
James Osterberg started his musical career at school around '63 as the drummer in Ann Arbor's hottest covers band, the Iguanas. After going professional in '65, they built a solid following while also backing up visiting groups like the Shangri-Las and the Four Tops (Legend has it that Iggy played drums on the latter's death-pop girl group smash 'Leader Of The Pack' in '65 - not true). In '66, the Iguanas managed to release one single - a cover of Bo Diddley's 'Mona'. Jim split soon after and joined a blues band called the Prime Movers. The Iggy nickname had stuck after his stint with the Iguanas. After leaving the Prime Movers, Iggy went to Chicago and immersed himself in proper blues culture for a few months. 1967 wasn't only the year of flower power.
There was an upswing in interest in the blues, fostered by bands like the Butterfield Blues Band but blown stratospheric by Hendrix and Cream.
Iggy went to the source and sussed how to let out emotions, no holds barred. He saw the Doors and was particularly taken by the way Jim Morrison could push the boundaries of what you could get away with on stage.
Iggy needed a band that could be in sympathy with his pure madness. No show-off virtuosos or psychedelic sludge merchants. On the street, he'd run into Ron Asheton, who'd been in a band called the Chosen Few, his younger brother Scott, and their mate Dave Alexander. In 1966, Ron and Dave went to London to check out the groups, particularly the auto-destruction of The Who. Iggy immortalised the trio in 'Dum Dum Boys' on The Idiot:
I remember how they used to stare at the ground/They looked as though they put the whole world down.
The four started playing together while hanging out at the Fun House, Ron's house he shared with his mother. They dropped acid and watched the Three Stooges on TV. Have you ever seen the Three Stooges? I got obsessed when I stayed at the Tropicana Motel in Los Angeles. Larry, Curly and Mo were lovable buffoons. All different characters, but surreal like the Marx Brothers on acid. They also made a lot of noise.
A lot of the time this was a preferable way of wiling away afternoons than getting stuck into working up a set. They wanted to be in a group and get famous with all the trappings, but couldn't get motivated to sit down and write songs, or even practice, apart from Ron. Free jazz, acid and the Three Stooges, plus a hyperactive, wildly intelligent singer who seemed hell-bent on self-exorcism via self-mutilation.
The fledgling Stooges hitched up with fellow Ann Arbor residents the MC5 who, under the guru guidance of John Sinclair, were in their revolutionary White Panther phase. They were ultra-hip rulers of the underground in the Detroit area and got the Fun House foursome to play their private Halloween party on October31 '67. The new group called themselves the Psychedelic Stooges - mingling their two main obsessions - and created their own instruments. There was a microphone in a blender they called the Osterizer. This provided the 15-minute intro noise. Also a miked-up washboard, a white-faced Iggy playing Hawaiian guitar, Scott on bongos and oil cans and general abuse of what equipment they had.
Obviously it was all made up as they went along. The Stooges hadn't meant it to be high art. It was more likely to have been influenced by the free jazz sounds of Sun Ra and Albert Ayler which were firing up the MC5 plus the brain-twizzling experimentation of the avant garde.
The Psychedelic Stooges' first proper paying gig was at Detroit's Grande Ballroom in March '68. By now the blender had been ditched in favour of the classic line-up of Ron on stun guitar, Dave on bass and the moody, demonic presence of Scott on drums. Unlike, say, the New York Dolls, the Stooges weren't honing and refining the songs which would make up their first album. Most of it was a collision course assault off the top of the head. It would remain that way until they became a touring band with an album out. There would be onstage fights or regular confrontations between Iggy and the crowd. It was the wildman stage act Iggy fans have grown to expect, except a hundred times more unpredictable, spectacular and dangerous. Most of the damage was suffered by Iggy himself. One popular story of the time had him lying flat on the stage crooning 'The Shadow Of Your Smile' through his freshly broken teeth.
As time went on, the music became dominated by Ron's simple but deadly guitar riffs. He didn't solo much, just churned out the proverbial three-chord barrage over the pile-driving rhythm section. His brother became known as 'Rock' Asheton. Many retrospectives go on about Iggy and his antics - and so they should. But more credit should be given to the hotwired barnstorming whipped up by the band. They still weren't brilliant musicians but, like the Dolls and Pistols later, got across via their churning, psychotic attitude. That indefinable feel.
The MC5 kind of adopted The Psychedelic Stooges as their 'little brother band'. In September '68, they let them open for them at a gig in Detroit. The show was attended by Elektra Records publicity assistant, Danny Fields, who hung with the Warhol crowd at Max's in New York. Fields was bowled over by the two bands and persuaded his boss, Jac Holzman, to sign them both. While the MC5 got an advance of $20,000, the Stooges got $5000. This was a fortune. They dropped the 'Psychedelic' tag.
I had a maternity dress on and a white face, and I was doing unattractive things like spitting on people,
Iggy told Zigzag the first UK magazine to carry a major feature on the Stooges, in December '70.
Just like in the movies, this guy came up to me and said that he worked for Elektra Records. He said to me, You're a star.
Elektra was a good home for the Stooges. For a start, Jac Holzman named it after the Greek demigoddess who had killed her mother in revenge for murdering her father. By the early sixties it had become a major outlet for protest folk music and, in '65, jumpstarted an American blues renaissance by releasing the debut album by the Paul Butterfield Blues Band. He signed a bunch of LA druggie hoodlums called Love, who married garage attack with love songs of sinister beauty. The label was considered the perfect home for the Doors even before Holzman and Love-Butterfield producer Paul Rothchild snaffled them up in August &..39;66 (for the same advance he gave the Stooges). A few years down the line you'd think they might have learned a lesson with Jim Morrison, who was practically out of control by '68. But now the new blood could join his mentor - and later out-gross him on all counts.
Iggy idolised Jim Morrison. You can see it in the stances, hear it in the screams and feel it in the moments of sensual, hallucinogenic calm. Most of all, you can hear it in the crowd-baiting insults and antics designed to get a reaction. Any reaction. Jim pole-axed his career by allegedly flashing his trouser lizard. Iggy would turn whipping it out into a fine art and also got busted for indecent exposure (in much less public or career-damning circumstances):
Jim Morrison was my idol, Iggy once told Zigzag. If he were alive today I'd die for him. It was after I saw him that I decided I'd be a singer, no matter how much I laughed, cried or died.
At a Jim Morrison memorial gig on the anniversary of his death (July 3) in &..39;74, Iggy sang 'LA Woman' and improvised the lyrics, 'Jim Morrison died today. Jim Morrison was more beautiful than any girl in this town. And now he's dead. Now I cry.' A projected collaboration with Doors keyboard man Ray Manzarek later failed to get off the ground.
The Stooges went to New York in June '69 to record their debut album. This historic blitzkreig took place at Jerry Ragavoy's R&B Studio now the Record Plant - between June 19-21. Danny Fields had the ingenious idea of getting John Cale, fresh out of the Velvet Underground, to produce. He would soon be constructing the sonic nightmare-scapes of Nico's Marble Index, but this was a different story. Cale wore a vampire's cape and the group fired out the whole album off the top of their collective head in two days. This album they were smoking pot and the lyrics evolved from inter band wisecracks and sayings. Iggy maintained that he was trying to emulate the direct simplicity of the blues guys. It's a little-known fact that he supervised the mixing.
Member Since: 9/11/2005 Band Website:ronasheton.com Band Members: 1967-1969:
Iggy Stooge-Vocals Ron Asheton-Guitar Dave Alexander-Bass Scott Asheton-Drums
1970: Iggy Pop-Vocals Ron Asheton-Guitar Dave Alexander-Bass Scott Asheton-Drums Steve MacKay-Saxophone
1971: Iggy Pop-Vocals Ron Asheton-Guitar James Williamson-Guitar Jimmy Recca-Bass Scott Asheton-Drums
1972-1974: Iggy Pop-Vocals James Williamson-Guitar Ron Asheton-Bass Scott Asheton-Drums Scott Thurston-Keyboards
Current lineup: 2003-present Iggy Pop-Vocals Ron Asheton-Guitar Scott Asheton-Drums Mike Watt-Bass Steve MacKay-Saxophone
FORMER MEMBERS:
James Williamson Dave Alexander R.I.P. Zeke Zettner R.I.P. Scott Thurston Jimmy Recca Bob Sheff Billy Cheatham
Thank you guys for the add, much appreciated. Just checking in for updates and to dig the tunes. Hope to see you guys very soon. Cheers from Montreal. Mariano !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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