Iggy’s Line Out Advantage Tells

Rip It Up, Issue 2, 1 July 1977, Page 10

Iggy’s Line Out Advantage Tells

Mike Chunn

Iggy Pop The Idiot RCA I read an article in the Auckland Star recently that labelled a Tubes’ film clip as an example of punk rock. Tut tut. Obviously Loosehead Len wasn't around to fill them in. "The Tubes are as much punks as the Ponies are poofs", to quote. Essentially (essentially?), Iggy Pop is no punk either, but most groups of that genre have a soft spot for him as a result of the raucous ramblings he produced with his group, the Stooges, in the early seventies. Mr Pop is now a more sophisticated member of the industry and is managed by NZ's old favourite, David Bowie. Bowie's role on this record is very dominant. He is arranger, producer and co-writer of the songs. The end result is a curious cross between Bowie's Low album and John Cale’s Slow Dazzle. If you are not familiar with either of these albums then it will be sufficient (sufficient?) to say that The Idiot is a lot like modern rugby; strategic with plenty of action replays and edited highlights. While listening to the album (I’m doing it at the moment. Conscientious, eh?) I was

reminded of Traffic in their meandering moments; never really getting anywhere but then, man wow, who cares man ... oh shirt ... far out ... I’m going to put my head on the 22 line and say that The Idiot is a ’77 version of an album like When The Eagle Flies (??). Mr Pop's singing is straight New York with an authoritive tone so often lacking in today’s music. A lot of groups are on their knees (usually a result of desperate measures) in the hope of success. Head music?

The band has a good feel, and it is the atmosphere, coupled with Mr Pop's assured approach that makes this album so palatable. There is no sparkling production, no multiple instrumentation, no harmonies; nothing really but the basics. Kevin Wildman (Waves) was describing the sort of music he likes. "Music where if one instrument drops out the song falls apart." The Idiot is like that. The necessities are there and the result is simple and direct. Like good football. (Football?) By the bye, Mr Pop was last seen crossing the 10 metre line after a brilliant intercept . . .