When I’m 64 (to borrow a phrase), I hope I can throw my lithe, half-naked body into a sea of outstretched hands and land back on stage, on my feet, “a street-walkin’ cheetah with a heart full of napalm.” Somewhere Iggy Pop has a portrait of himself aging, because at the Stooges’ show Thursday at the Hollywood Palladium, I swear Mr. Osterberg looked younger than any of the dozen other times I’ve seen him in the last few decades. Pop is the punk-rock Peter Pan. His body is now permanently curved into the impudent-child pose he’s adopted since the late 1960s. See him offstage, and he’s crippled with scoliosis, the incredibly hard-drug years he’s lived now permanently etched into his limp. But with his old bandmates, and a couple newer ones, behind him (including fellow San Pedran Mike Watt), he inhabits that body with all the fuck-you insouciance of his eternal adolescence. Continue reading
Tag Archives: Hollywood Palladium
, via Wikimedia Commons”]Iggy Pop emailed me earlier with the sad news he has fractured some bones in his foot and had to cancel his gig with the Stooges at the Hollywood Palladium September 7, to be rescheduled. I’d assigned my Reviewing the Arts students to review the concert, after reading Lester Bangs’s seminal 1970 Creem piece on Mr. Pop. No fun, to coin a phrase.