Iggy Pop continues to confound all expectations. First and foremost, he’s managed to outlive most of his peers great and small, despite having tried to do nothing but the opposite. Just being alive isn’t enough, though. Iggy Pop has to be a road warrior. He still performs a lot and he doesn’t do it the genteel way. Where anyone else would gather their laurels around them and maybe pull up a chair and string quartet, Iggy still bursts out half naked, not the least bit ashamed to flaunt his damaged body. Yes, he risks looking like a freak…what the hell, he looks downright grotesque. But looking good isn’t the point; even if he’d lived nicely he wouldn’t be a pretty boy anymore anyway. The point is that Iggy Pop is more punk than anyone will ever be;  and the point is, even when he was young and sexy he was a freak, a grotesque, the kind of person who gets up on stage because there’s no real place for him in the world. What’s the point to pretend otherwise? Iggy has to be Iggy because he can’t survive as Jim. Most confounding of all though, is the music, of course. Iggy Pop can be a sweaty, shirtless, terrifying old man just as he used to be a sweaty, shirtless terrifying young one and transcend the merely freakish, because he’s always had great songs and he still does, and it may or may not come as some surprise that he’s come out and made a fucking great album again. He’s had some bad years. A while ago he made a record where he sang – in French no less! – about how much he likes dogs. He can get away with that as long as he plays the hits. But he also has things to say besides reminding us for the millionth time about his lust for china girls. No one ever accused Iggy Pop of being socially conscious, but he is pissed off about the world, all right. This song is a bonus track from his excellent new album Post-Pop Depression. The man may have broken every part of his body, but his voice still sounds commanding.


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