The Weirdness (2007)Iggy Pop and the Stooges
(ick. some people will sell anything.)
reviewed by King Kill
Trip-O-Meter: 0/10
Iggy, it is time to go die. Unless you did already like fifteen years back. You damn well should’ve. Seriously, you look like a five-foot tall screaming foreskin. Just try owning a t-shirt. See how it works out. But I digress.
I remember when The Weirdness had just been announced. I was overwhelmed with glee that I get the rare opportunity to have part of a legendary bands legacy occur in my lifetime. I remember when it finally came out in 2007 and I stole it off the internet…. And then I remember not being able to listen to any portion of their discography for a very long while after that.
The Weirdness made me lose faith in The Stooges, doubt the validity of everything that came before it. Could it all have been happenstance? Well, this morning I decided to listen and review this album because apparently that is what I do now.
About three tracks in I asked myself “Is it wrong to review an album without listening to three quarters of it? Does it debase my integrity as a journalist? Well I’m not a journalist, so fuck you and yeah I listened to it anyway. But I really didn’t have to. It only grew more shittastic. I’m not sure whether or not there are two T’s in “shittastic” but there sure is when talking about The Weirdness.
The first track “Trollin’” sounds like Iggy rolled out of bed after a thirty-four year bender, decided he wanted to beat a personal record and bang out an album in ninety minutes. The only thing worse than his half-assed, half-spoken vocals is the instruments backing him as he rambles far too coherently about… well..
Huh! Woo!
Good God!
Baby, baby take a look at me
I see your long legs riding your Lee's
I see your hair has energy
My dick is turnin' into a tree
I got the top down on my cadillac
My Stooges T-Shirt is ridin' my back
Rock critics wouldn't like this at all
I guess my faith is ridin' my balls
You can't tell me this is not a suave thing to do
You can't tell me 'cause I know you'd do it too
I'm trollin'
We're trollin'
Baby I'm trollin'
Baby we're trollin'
Holy shit my head hurts. It’s bad. It’s bad in so many ways. Even if you were saying something vaguely meaningful, which we never wanted from you, there is no need to repeat it until you reach nirvana. (I’m looking at you too, Marilyn Manson!) Here’s more:
'Cause my idea of fun
Is killing everyone
My idea of fun
Is killing everyone
My idea of fun
Is killing everyone
My idea of fun is killing everyone
My idea of fun is killing everyone
My idea of fun
My idea of fun is killing everyone
My idea of fun is killing everyone
My idea of fun
Case in point.
The only stand out track on the album is a goofy track called “Mexican Guy” that is so absurd it borders on self-depreciation. Everything else is sub-standard rock by numbers. Say a bunch of nothing, force it to rhyme, repeat the title of the track eight times, start over. It truly made me reconsider their previous works. Let us do that now, shall we?
The Stooges self-titled album will absolutely fuck you up and refuse to pay for the abortion. As alluded to earlier it was put together in a matter of days. I’d elaborate but I’ll leave that to every other review of the album ever written. Back in the day the Stooges were balls out awesome. Every album an aural personification of every party you’re not cool enough to even know about. The sexy swagger in Pop’s vocals rip through each line like he’s on a mission to search & destroy the minds of everyone down on the street.
Anyway, the trilogy of albums The Stooges produced from ’69 to ’73 were unique and varied in a creative charge of energy that is difficult to assess. Iggy isn’t a musical genius, he just happened to live rock and roll at the right time and the right place.
I’ll never forget the first time I heard “I Wanna Be Your Dog” in a Guy Ritchie movie. I was floored by it and immediately ran to the internet to search for the lyrics I just heard so I could learn who wrote this behemoth. It took awhile, even though The Stooges appeared right at the top of the search listing, I didn’t believe in a million years a track so progressive and vital could have been written more than thirty years ago. It was one of the songs that sparked in me a passion for music. I realized music is timeless in a way that I’d never pondered before.
The rest of the album is just as sexy and brash. Many times have I gotten lost in the seemingly endless dream that is “We Will Fall”, a song that should only be poured in ones ear after consuming a great deal of THC.
Any other track, on any other album so long as it doesn’t make any references to motherfucking Dr. Phil. Forget they ever grew up and got weird. Instead get bent, courtesy of the grand daddies of punk rockin’.
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