Well, I was at the Stooges show last week at the Fox. The Stooges in Detroit City, right? Should be historic. My oldest brother - he of steady employment and the inherited misunderstanding of money and it's worth- splurged on two third row tickets over the orchestra pit. So much Raw Power one would need penicillin, right? Here's one stooge's opinion:
First off, there should be a photo above all this blather. A square of pixelated trash uploaded from a phone that T-Mobile says has a "camera". This camera is actually more of a "memory machine". Vague and unfocused, obsolete as soon as it is captured, the phone camera (at least the one I have) serves no purpose other than maintaining, however poorly, the catalogued life of the modern, hep consumer. Just yesterday I saw a boy taking a picture of a limousine outside a moto-cross event at Ford Field. It wasn't much of a limo. I wondered how long that kid would hold onto that image of that limo. Longer than he remembered seeing it? A week? Would there be a "blog" with that photo featured? Did he catch the limo driver in the photo? Did he, like me, capture said driver, the one with the ill-fitting rent-to-own tuxedo, taking furtive chugs from a Icehouse? Did he care? What was my point? Oh, yeah: That photo of Iggy, however crude and arguable, proved I was there. For that moment I was of the moment. It gave this entry a title. Without it, it will make less to no sense. But T-Mobile's website, the one they flaunt tri-weekly with mail sent to me of multi-culti people laughing with joy and jumping off of docks in ecstasy, ain't fucking working. So screw them and forgive me. Anyway...
The Fox isn't a place to see a great rock show. The place is just too beautiful. Too ornate. There's a amazing bust of a golden elephant that hangs over the stage. I was worried the rock savagery to come would shake it from it's moorings and crush all us cretins. The Fox is that kinda place, it makes you feel small in it's out sized beauty. I'm not the type to screw up something I think is pretty, unless she wants me to. So seeing the same crowd that made the Stooges show at Pine Knob such a blast put me on edge at the Fox. Seeing a guy pissing in a ashtray at Pine Knob: awesome dude. Seeing the same thing at the Fox while an elderly volunteer usher (who probably just wanted to work Irving Berlin's "Wonderful Town" before she died): Kinda sad.
The Pine Knob show was one of the best rock and roll nights of my "muckin' aboot" life. We arrived after the Von Bondies were done: showing Providence was with us. We had a good patch of grass on the hill in the setting sun for Sonic Youth: never a fan, but the patch of grass made it glorious. Then the Stooges. So these were the prophets I was slavish for. Before the stink of Skull Ring had settled in my nose, years before The Weirdness kicked the hopes and dreams of a thousand music nerds into the waste bin of history. This was THE STOOGES. Sure the fan pile-up on stage was semi-orchestrated. Who cares? It was a blast.
Back at the Fox and I'm in my seat. So close to the stage. I'm never this close, never ever. My brother, what a saint. I remember being pretty close to the front for "The Chipmunks: On Ice!" in my youth, but this was a whole 'nother bowl of gravy. Now the show starts after a long set-up. Me, I love the roadies and the sound guys. Watch them during a show if you can. They're like baseball players out there. A unit moving as one. Working hard and all that. The fella whose job, I think, involved checking levels and keeping Iggy alive and away from the drunk fat creeps was the MVP for sure.
Mike Watt is another fella who gives you your money's worth spectatin'. He's no ball-hog or show boat. He sweats and bug eyes the crowd, looking like the biggest fan of the Stooges while bass playing. He seems like a swell guy. Put Steve MacKay on that list too. His saxophone is one of the big reasons everybody thinks Fun House is the best record ever. He's great, yeah alright.
The sound upfront is a little disconcerting. Is that always the case? With earplugs and without (I opted for without. What's the Stooges without some screeee...oh yeah, The Weirdness.) songs felt overthrown, that is - I wondered if the plebs in the balcony were getting the full bidness. I think they were. That being said the ol' songs still packed a punch. Being in the front, the front being the exclusive, roped-off swell-igent section was odd for other reasons too. You get to see the machinations of a "wild" rock and roll show be executed with efficiency. The main aisle was magically filled with "hipster" looking folk ready and able to catch Iggy when he jumped in the crowd. The same guy came out and started the impromptu bum-rush. But no bums, nay, just us folks in the primo. I opted out. I did see a drunk dad get thrown from the stage when he tried the bum rush after the specific song. He got his face planted while his son watched with a mix of pathos and regret. Ol dad, bounded with the beer, tried again and this time was politely escorted back stage (and beyond). His poor son had to be fetched a song later to take his maker home.
That being said, the ol' drunko was probably younger than Iggy. Ah Iggy Himself. Up close those muscles and ladypants that always look weird in photos become something more so. The skin: old lady. The pants: little girl. Iggy's dance moves, cabinet humping, sex-acting are cabaret, plain and simple. Creepy cabaret at that. Up close and thirty and some change years later, it becomes like those new songs on The Weirdness that skeeved everybody out - shtick ossified by time. The old songs is what we all paid for. An abstract version of that 70's sound is what we got and a 30 dollar t-shirt if'n you desired. I remember folks making fun of the Eagles when I was in high school for selling out and offering up their inoffensive music for retrograde fans. Now me and the Stooges are doing that same ol' song and dance, under the golden elephant that hangs over our heads. How's that for a final metaphor?
That's that,
Joe
PS: Mostly I posted this drab entry to loosen up some dead limbs I used to have and to break up what will probably be non-stop tour coverage for the next month. Really, that Stooges show was fun. From what I remember. Big shows have a habit of making me feel shilled is all. That, and Iggy threw a bottled water on me, the bastard. How un-rock is that? Huh? Sheesh?
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