The Idiot (1977)
8.5
Sister Midnight / Nightclubbing / Funtime / Baby / China Girl
/ Dum Dum Boys / Tiny Girls / Mass Production
To
give you an idea what a load of fun this album is: allegedly, The Idiot
was the album Ian Curtis was listening to right before he hung himself. That's
saying enough, right? It's indeed not much of a laugh, but in a totally different
way than his escapades with primal rockers The Stooges. Punk had finally caught
up with the destructive energy of the seminal Stooges albums, but in the meantime,
Pop was already preparing the world for a generation of post-punk intellectuals,
who's soon channel punk's tabula rasa into headier, more pretentious
territory. At the time, David Bowie was the ideal sidekick for Iggy Pop. While
too many naysayers have claimed that The Idiot was basically another
Bowie album – albeit one with a guest vocalist – Pop's stamp on
the album is unmistakeable. The claim that he functioned best under the guidance
of a strong leader is certainly valid (a trip through Pop's hilariously uneven
output will reveal he's about the worst self-editor imaginable), even though
his performances on the "Bowie albums" are very strong. Like Bowie's
Berlin-trilogy, The Idiot (recorded in the very same city)
is a departure from the traditional guitar-oriented approach of before, incorporating
mechanical beats and droning synths straight out of classic Krautrock instead.
There's no swing at all in this album, and there's hardly any soul.
Yet, with some imagination a song like "Sister Midnight" could be
called "electro-funk." The classic feel of rock 'n 'roll is replaced
with a disorienting, even disturbing coldness. Apart from those in "China
Girl," Pop's dark and drugged vocals ooze out an atmosphere of haughty
distance and robotic ennui. It's no longer the delirious party animal,
the drug peddler and grotesque ego that are talking. It's the know-it-all
who pulls the strings in the background, looks at the metropolitan hedonism
and wraps up tales of excess in droning monotony that's (and this is quite
remarkable) nearly as murky as the early '70's rock albums (the thumping bass
of "Nightclubbing" (a song you may remember from heroin opus Trainspotting)
is like the rhythm section of Bowie's "Sound + Vision," nearly drowning
in its own dominance). Anyway, it definitely ain't your average party album
– the guitar squalls and robotic beat of "Nightclubbing" are
almost the anti-thesis is what you'd expect from a song bearing the title
– but there's room for less ominous material as well: "Funtime"
is a lot swifter and the lighter touch of "Baby" prevent this from
becoming an unbearable burden, but they have their odd characteristics as
well, whether it be the scarifying backing vocals in the former (almost dissonant,
just like some of Eno's early efforts) or the ominous vocal melody of the
latter. These songs aren't where the weight of the album is, though, as the
longer songs leave more of a lasting impression, "China Girl" not
in the least. Even though it became more popular when Bowie re-recorded it
in the early eighties and turned it into a glossy dance-pop track (anyone
remember that ridiculous video with Bowie and some Asian chick having fun
at the shore?), the original serves a combination of exotica, playfulness
and hesitant menace that's so much more gratifying, and when Pop halfway the
song disbands the baritone mumbling to yell increasingly ecstatic ("It's
in the whiiiiiiiiiiite of my eyes" – splendid!), it really gets
going and turns the last few minutes into the album's best, most intense,
moment. "Dum Dum Boys" is often hailed as one of his best solo songs
and while that's overstating things a little bit, it is a damn effective
dirge, featuring some nifty guitar parts. Its status is probably derived from
the Stooges-references at the beginning ("How about Dave? – OD'd
on alcohol" … "How about James? – He's gone straight")
and that it might as well be an ode to his new, unfamiliar surroundings ("I
can't seem to speak the language"). The jazzy ballad "Tiny Girls"
again breaks the sinister tone – especially when Pop comes in after
a lengthy introduction with a stylised version of a drunkard's lament –
but like all important albums, The Idiot ends with a bang (or: a DRONE!)
in the guise of the 8+ minutes of "Mass Production," an uncompromising
song that might be the album's highlight, despite the fact that it sounds
as if it's too slow, the vocals are annoyingly stretched, it's monotonous
and the racket of loud, electric guitars is completely disbanded in favor
of eerie synths and treated guitars that sound like dolphins with an identity
crisis. If you've heard the song, you'll know what I'm talking about. What
it all amounts to: The Idiot is quite a surprise, certainly if you're
only familiar with its successor (like so many people seem to be). Bowie or
no Bowie, Pop's solo debut was the first and last time he'd make a statement
this adventurous, this well-rounded and this convincing. Granted, when I'm
not in the mood for this monochrome diary of detached sleaze, I don't even
wanna have it in my vicinity, but once in a while it works terrific as a nearly
nauseating tribute to the cheetah's darker persona.
Reader comments: Zophael979 (USA): |
Lust for Life (1977)
8
Lust for Life / Sixteen / Some Weird Sin / The Passenger
/ Tonight / Success / Turn Blue / Neighborhood Threat / Fall in Love
with Me
Of
course the album cover is one of the things that make this album classic.
Look at that idiot grin, the grin of a lobotomised monkey, an insane grin
on the face of a dude who took enough drugs to be half man/half chemical,
behaved more outrageous than you can imagine and would do about anything (yes,
that as well) to get his fix. With a heart full of napalm, Pop's three
albums and performances with the Stooges turned him into perhaps the quintessential
animalistic front man, a raving, single-minded explosion of excess and dedication.
Then came the almost surreal drone of The Idiot, an album that had
"Bowie" all over it, but also kick-started Pop's solo on a high note. Lust
for Life doesn't sound anything like the drug-fueled debut. Oh,
it's still PG-rated, some of the lyrics ("Tonight," "Turn Blue") aren't about
life's finer moments, but the album lives up to the sprightly energy and enthusiasm
the Popster's smile suggests. The band on this album isn't half as demented
as any of the Stooges' line-ups, but they provide some excellent, occasionally
hard-rocking music that makes it the most accessible Pop-related album up
'til then. Hunt (drums) and Tony Sales (bass) are a terrific rhythm section
- the legendary intro to the title track has "classic" material all over it,
while the remainder of the album also boasts a shitload of stubbornly throbbing
bass lines and entrancing drumming. Guitarists Carlos Alomar and Ricky Gardener
also add their valuable $0.02 by laying down minimal yet effective riffs,
faux-funk and almost abrasive sound sheets ("Sixteen"). This time around,
Bowie's presence is less obvious (though he plays piano and does some backing
vocals), but that needn't be a problem as it's Pop who steals the show throughout
the album, with some of his most spirited performances. Who can forget the
story about Johnny Yen, wrapped up in one of the most recognizable drum patterns
in rock history? Pop - no longer using the mumbling baritone of The Idiot
- delivers his semi-nonsensical lyrics ("Of course I've had it in the ear
before") with an appropriate sneer, barks 'em with a dirty dose of perversion
("Sweet sixteen in leather boots, body and soul I go crazy"), or does an (less
successful) Elvis-meets-caterwauling-idiot act during "Turn Blue."
The first half of the album contains some of the best stuff he's ever recorded,
as the run from the classic title track to the violently monotonous "Sixteen"
to the danceable "Some Weird Sin" and the sing-along "The Passenger" (you
can't go wrong with lyrics like "Lala, lala, lalalala… "de doo doo doo, de
daa daa daa" on the other hand…) never leaves the realm of excellent rock
'n' roll. Because Tina Turner (of all people) did a cover of "Tonight" with
David Bowie (ah, I still remember the live version, with Tina announcing she
was gonna sing a song Pop and Bowie wrote in the seventies and then Bowie
appearing in his lousy, white costume - THE GLORIOUS '80's!), you might oversee
the fact that it's not exactly a happy song ("I saw my baby, she was
turning blue, I knew that soon her, young life was through"). Unfortunately
it's followed by two songs I never cared for, the first one ("Success") a
galloping dirge that reminded me of bad Fleetwood Mac, the second one the
unbearable torture of "Turn Blue." The album's final tracks never really reach
the momentum of the opening songs either, though "Neighborhood" remains somewhat
of a personal favorite, while the thumping "Fall in Love with Me" (glam-meets-The
Idiot) manages to stay and sound cool for six and a half minutes. The
best moments on Lust for Life are better than some of the things Pop
did before it and almost all he did after it, but because of a few lesser
cuts, it's not exactly an exciting trip from start to finish, but… we could
say the same about your and my life, right? Damn fine album, for the most
part. Now, go back to your partyin', you animal.
TV Eye - 1977 Live (1978)
4
TV Eye / Funtime / Sixteen / I Got a Right / Lust for Life /
Dirt / Nightclubbing / I Wanna Be Your Dog
This
is it? 36 minutes, most of which sound almost as shitty as the average bootleg
out there? With such a short length, you'd at least expect the songs to be
taken from one and the same show, but no, the performances are taken from
three different shows and glued together, robbing it ENTIRELY of the flow
as well. These eight songs could've been great, they could've been one
huge raucous blast, a high-octane fest of perversity and danger, but instead,
you get performances ranges from poor to average and the one highlight ("I
Got a Right"). On the other hand, with songs like these, there's got to be
SOMETHING that saves it from becoming an entire disaster, which is
what it would've been had he used lesser material instead. Half of the songs
were taken from the Lust for Life-tour that featured the Sales Bros.,
Ricky Gardiner and Bowie, the other ones were recorded half a year later,
with Stacey Heydon and Scott Thurston (who'd been a Stooge some five years
earlier) taking care of guitar duties. Now, I hear you coming… "Metallic
K.O. doesn't sound much better than this, or does it, smart-ass?"
It doesn't indeed, but compared to TV Eye, the notorious double album
is a statement of nihilism and destruction with real balls, while this one
here is much more about attitude than actual power. "TV Eye" isn't atrocious,
but the brief "LORD!" doesn't exactly live up to the "LLLOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRDDDD!"
the song deserves as an introduction. It sounds too much like a Stooges cover
band with a singer who knows he's making a bit fun of himself (and what's
with the lousy improv: "You got a TV, I got a TV, we all got TV's… big fucking
deal"?). And I didn't even mention how silly the keyboards sound when they
follow the vocal melody in the chorus. Pop sounds as if he couldn't care less,
which robs several songs ("Funtime," "Nightclubbing") completely from their
bite, or perhaps he was trying to evoke the drugged atmosphere of The Idiot?
Stooges-classic "I Wanna Be Your Dog" and "Lust for Life" are average at best,
the latter lacking guitar grit and with harmonica parts that are, like,
COMPLETELY out of place. In fact, there's only one song that redeems
the album and ensures it's not a complete waste of tape (besides the pretty
adequate, pent-up intensity of "Dirt," that is), and that's the quite impressive
- fiery! - take on "I Got a Right," a mean, dirty and in-your-face garage
punk classic that single-handedly ensured hundreds of bands know what to imitate
to these days. Even this song sounds below average, but it has the
energy the remainder of the album seems to lack and enough to bump up the
rating a bit. I have no idea whether this is representative for Iggy's capacities
at the time - to be frank, I've never heard a live album that entirely satisfied
me, while the one time I saw him was OK, but nothing more - but if it was,
there were several performers he couldn't even dare of thinking to equal.
Short summary for those who only have the time to read the final few lines:
TV Eye - 1977 Live is, uh, it's… a live album! JUST SPEND YOUR MONEY
ON SOMETHING USEFUL, WILL YA? Multi-colored shoelaces, a Hollies Best
of or even a quarterpounder with cheese at your local Denny's (do they
serve that at Denny's? I'm not sure, but I sure as hell liked the seasoned
fries there).
Read album reviews of similar or related artists: The Stooges - Rollins Band - The Hives