Sharing a cigarette and some feelings with Iggy Pop

Iggy Pop bummed a cigarette off of me at a Marianne Faithful show.  That silly Marlboro Light made me feel special.  A couple of years later in L.A., I finished swimming my morning laps.  On emerging from the pool there was Iggy Pop sprawled out on a lounge chair soaking up the sun.   After all, he is a lizard.  I quickly wrapped a towel around my hips, and approached him. “Excuse me Mr. Pop?”  We had a conversation about the lyrics to “Gimme Shelter.”  Monster Magnet was recording the song for a charity record.  The night before, Dave Wyndorf swore there were sounds not words in parts of the song.  Dave was flummoxed and asked me to get the lyrics for him.  That very next morning the rock gods presented me with a Speedo wearing solution specifically designed to address our dilemma. Mr. Pop conceded, “He’s right, there aren’t real words in a lot of that song.  If I can’t find words to sing what I feel I don’t use words I just sing whatever comes out.  Whatever I feel.  Tell Dave he can sing whatever he wants. But he has to feel it.” 

I haven’t had any conversations about the new Iggy Pop record Post Pop Depression.  I am surprised, given my past working relationship with Josh Homme who produced it, plays on it and is now touring with Iggy, but then again I’m not.  I don’t think most of my friends have actually listened to it.   The story might be enough- Josh & Iggy went to the desert...blah, blah, blah.  When Bowie produced Iggy’s records we listened to them, but that was before we could spend all our free time streaming on Netflix or Hulu or On Demand.  And look, I realize that by pointing one finger at you three are pointing back at me.  What the non-conversation about Post Pop Depression makes me think is that maybe all this hullaballoo about Spotify, Apple and Tidal killing music is nonsense because teenagers don’t pay for music and Gen X no longer listens to it.   Go listen to the record.  Like it or hate it, go feel Iggy.  The apocalypse, political, LGBT, trying to get by comedic guy/gal, or mobster thing you are addicted to will still be there by the time the 9^th song fades. I promise.

Iggy kicked off the “Post Pop Depression” tour in Texas.  The show’s opening lines were, “Hey baby we like your lips… All aboard for funtime.”  By the time the tour makes its way to New York in April funtime may translate into a 72-hour binge of “Game of Thrones.” I am going to see Iggy.  Not because of the obvious, well okay, yes because of the obvious.  Plus, I like to think that, “I just do what I want to do.”  On Post Pop Depression Iggy declares, “All I’ve got is my name.”  Mr. Pop, I can hit pause for that.