You know you're in for it when sinewy-punk-granddaddy Iggy Pop flails onto the stage. Hurling himself into the crowd who promptly start massaging his head (one of the mysteries of the mosh-pit), stomping on the hands of hapless photographers and, of course, displaying his buttocks and a cheeky flash of pubes as a special treat, Mr Pop is like a demon child. You can't help recalling that punk bands such as The Buzzcocks were inspired to start a group by the older, more established The Stooges...and yet Iggy still has more hair than them. And very lustrous it is too. Must be all those mosh-pit head massages.
The mighty Stooges provide a driving backdrop to the Igmeister's deranged skipping, hurtling, writhing and bleeding. Yes, at one point blood is smeared over that wiry chest. Look and learn, Doherty. Iggers even occasionally throws himself against his patient bassist, who smiles wanly. That's showbiz. 'I Feel Alright' and 'I Wanna Be Your Dog' are some of the glaring highlights, but really this seminal outfit can't put a foot wrong. Flapping his hands and staring as if casting some unthinkable spell, the rock maniac soon decides it's high time he invited half of the audience on stage, and a scene of classic punk chaos ensues. It could be '76. The result of this is, inevitably, some impressive dancing all round. Iggy's presence seems to inspire men, who don't necessarily share his physique, to rip off their shirts, revealing all sorts of horrors underneath. One bloke tears off his sweater and actually has a fight with it, whipping the floor with the offending woolly as if his life depended on it. But despite the obvious risks, the stage-flooding thing concludes happily.
The Stooges are everything you want them to be and more. And after introducing the band, swearing at us briefly and doing a random little hip-swivelly jig (all at breakneck speed) Iggy was gone, leaving us all slack-jawed and very much aware we have just witnessed one of the most exciting nights ever from one of the most important rockers alive.
The mighty Stooges provide a driving backdrop to the Igmeister's deranged skipping, hurtling, writhing and bleeding. Yes, at one point blood is smeared over that wiry chest. Look and learn, Doherty. Iggers even occasionally throws himself against his patient bassist, who smiles wanly. That's showbiz. 'I Feel Alright' and 'I Wanna Be Your Dog' are some of the glaring highlights, but really this seminal outfit can't put a foot wrong. Flapping his hands and staring as if casting some unthinkable spell, the rock maniac soon decides it's high time he invited half of the audience on stage, and a scene of classic punk chaos ensues. It could be '76. The result of this is, inevitably, some impressive dancing all round. Iggy's presence seems to inspire men, who don't necessarily share his physique, to rip off their shirts, revealing all sorts of horrors underneath. One bloke tears off his sweater and actually has a fight with it, whipping the floor with the offending woolly as if his life depended on it. But despite the obvious risks, the stage-flooding thing concludes happily.
The Stooges are everything you want them to be and more. And after introducing the band, swearing at us briefly and doing a random little hip-swivelly jig (all at breakneck speed) Iggy was gone, leaving us all slack-jawed and very much aware we have just witnessed one of the most exciting nights ever from one of the most important rockers alive.
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