fuck’s second record, “baby loves a funny bunny,” 20th anniversary collectors’ edition out now on Vampire Blues. Limited edition vinyl reissue includes digital download with previously unreleased bonus tracks!
“THE THING YOU HAVE TO REMEMBER IS, NO MATTER HOW YOU FEEL ABOUT THE MUSIC OR WHAT IT STANDS FOR, SOMEWHERE, SOMEHOW, THAT MUSIC IS AFFECTING SOMEONE IN A POSITIVE WAY.“
“After being shopped last year for $1 billion, SoundCloud could end up being sold so cheaply that its founders may have trouble turning a profit. Deezer, which has an estimated 6.9 million subscribers mainly outside of America, is said to be among potential suitors, and it has the heft of ownership by Warner Music parent company Access Industries. Or might Apple Music be interested in a distinctive free tier to go along with its carefully branded subscription service? Google’s name periodically surfaces in the rumor mills as well. For music fans, SoundCloud’s struggle is another age-old story of a vital cultural wellspring that loses its identity in a quest for profitability. It typically ends with a 21st-century graveyard of broken embeds, dead links, and lost sounds.”
In skintight pants that could have been painted on, Iggy Pop planted his feet on the lip of the stage Sunday afternoon, lunging forward as if he were about to surf over the sea of fist-pumping hands.
He cocked his hips, curled his lip, slung a head of lank blond hair, hurled a microphone stand, fell to his knees to pound the floor with a belt and dropped enough f-bombs to warrant a “parental advisory” label.
In other words, the Iggy Pop who riled up FYF Fest on Sunday was the same hell-raiser we’ve seen and heard since the late 1960s. Perhaps no other American musician, save for departed Johnny Cash, has been so on brand as Pop has for nearly 50 years.
It’s sort of freakish how intact and vital Pop remains at 70. Sure, time has taken its toll on the punk pioneer, from his bare torso’s crinkled skin to the limp that’s noticeable only when he’s not prowling the stage like the streetwalking cheetah with a heart full of napalm he saluted in “Search and Destroy.” Otherwise, not much has changed.
Opening with the sludgy riff of “I Wanna Be Your Dog,” his FYF set rumbled out of the speakers and sent festival-goers racing toward the stage. Iggy scorched the earth with a handful of classics from his arsenal of songs with the Stooges and from his solo catalog: “Gimme Danger,” “The Passenger,” “Lust for Life,” the latter of which remains rock’s ultimate life-affirming anthem.
“I’m Sick of You,” a rarity from his “Raw Power” era with the Stooges, was a nice surprise, allowing Pop to channel the laconic crooner he has become in his twilight years.
The only quibble? It’s too bad he didn’t showcase, aside from “Gardenia,” more material from “Post Pop Depression,” his excellent album last year with Queens of the Stone Age’s Josh Homme.
That was a minor point in a blistering performance that proved age hasn’t blunted Pop’s force. Who else on the FYF lineup – from any year – could possibly return as a septuagenarian?
“[That night] was one of the worst experiences I’ve had,” says Bookman, now a host for radio station Indie 88. “That whole thing was really stressful, as you can imagine. They were so hot at the time, but also a handful. Nobody knew how stressful the day would be. We didn’t know what would happen from one second to the next. I was supposed to have them on the air at 6PM and they never showed up. They just went and did their own thing. So that was a little upsetting. And I saw what was going on at the club with the line-up. I couldn’t deal with it, so I went down to the Beverley Tavern and drank and let everyone else deal with it.”
The Strokes – Hard To Explain 10/02/2001 Horseshoe Tavern
30 minutes of musical history.
“The last line of my lyric to “Eighteen” was supposed to be “I’m 18 and I hate it.” But as I neared the end of my vocal in the studio, I decided to flip it to “I’m 18 and I like it.” I wanted to turn the teenage angst around.
That was a surprise to everyone in the control booth. With my earlier lyric, the song was a good hard rocker. But by flipping the line, the song became a statement.”
His energies are required elsewhere. Fatherhood, rather late in the day, and a settled second marriage have played havoc with his work-life balance. “When I go off on tour, it takes me two weeks prior to that to turn into the bloke who does the shows,” he says. “If I put the wrong plastics in the recycling bin, my wife always says to me, rather tartly: ‘You’ve already left, haven’t you? You’re not here anymore.’ And she’s sort of right, because the guy who does the shows can’t do the bins. He doesn’t know how to empty the bloody dishwasher or how to take the kid to football – and he’s not remotely interested in doing it, either.
“Then when I come home from tour, I get bollocked for not getting the right thing from Tesco. I’m like, ‘Wait a minute, I’ve just got back from having my back patted and told how bloody marvellous I am. Give me a break here!’ The older I get, and since the boy came along, it takes a great deal of effort to change backwards and forwards. Unless I just want to be a terrible dead beat, of which there are quite a lot in the musical world. Deadbeat dads! All of that definitely has a bearing on how easy it is to create anything new.”
“this is spooky, wonderful, amazing, > empowering!
so many of us are asleep,
all it takes to WAKE UP is to remember the truth of who we are.
Energetic pieces of the same mysterious infinite ocean of love.
Reminding others who we are, helps us remind ourselves!
Thank you for such a powerful reminder.”
“In other words, the nation’s dislike of U2 is classic Irish begrudgery – the phenomenon that Irish people are predisposed to feel envy and resentment towards those who achieve a certain level of success. Harry Browne, author of The Frontman: Bono (In the Name of Power), believes this theory has some credence. “[There is] a pride in being in the position to take this large object and cut it down to size, which I think is a very Irish, post-colonial phenomenon,” he explains. “I think that’s a big aspect of it.”
The idea of Irish begrudgery is difficult to gauge. Liam Neeson, Saoirse Ronan and Conor McGregor enjoy all the glitzy spoils of being famous but have escaped the same backlash. In rock history, artists such as Thin Lizzy and Rory Gallagher are widely beloved among their countrymen. A statue of Lizzy frontman Phil Lynott stands on Dublin’s Harry Street; there are sculptures and plaques dedicated to Gallagher dotted throughout the island at which fans can bend the knee. If begrudgery plays a part in U2’s unpopularity, it’s uniquely barbed when it comes to the band.”