Pop shows survival instinct on 'Avenue B'

Ann Arbor native son, punk godfather, the wiriest man in show business - there's a litany of titles that can be bestowed on the former James Osterberg. But, these days, for Iggy Pop, a man who, a few decades ago, would have been a good candidate for "person least likely to survive the '70s," perhaps the most applicable tag is that of "survivor." On "Facade," from his stark new album, "Avenue B," Pop boasts "I got no reason to believe/I got no reason but I'm New York scumbag tough/And I'll keep on truckin'." Indeed he has kept on truckin', and in the process, created an album that is at once despondent and defiant, pensive and pissed-off, and offers ample evidence that it is everyone's good fortune that he's stuck around.

"Avenue B" finds Pop largely preoccupied with feel-bad themes like loneliness in old age, squandered opportunities and broken relationships. He sings much of the album in his deepest voice, which lends an aching soulfulness to songs like the title track, a sleepy, rainy-day anthem, on which Pop's nuanced melody throbs with remorse for a lifetime of mistakes that now seem irrevocable.

Pop's languid acoustic guitar work proves to be an unlikely strength of the album, leaving it awash in shades of gray that are thrillingly evocative. He and his collaborators succeed in crafting arrangements that provide a pitch-perfect textural and emotional accompaniment to his more somber side. Listen to the odd array of acoustic guitar, synthesized bass and slide guitar on "Long Distance," and you can almost palpably sense Pop's anxiety as he watches time slip away.

All of the quiet soul searching on "Avenue B," however, does not mean that this former Stooge has forgotten how to rock. Pop's music has always been fueled by a fierce intelligence and several scorchers on this album find him continuing to reject the cliche that loud equals dumb. His take on 1960's "Shakin' All Over" is an ideal choice to clear the air of any lingering self-pity, and carries on Pop's nearly thirty year legacy of creating therapeutic rock 'n' roll. "I Felt The Luxury" features recurring guests Medeski, Martin and Wood, who cook up a Shaft-worthy groove over which Pop spouts the menacing tale of an abusive, unrepentant lover: "If cold's what I am/I'm cold 'till the end."

The lyrical content of "Avenue B" makes for pretty harrowing listening, especially considering its author. Certainly anyone who has seen the "Behind the Music" episode dedicated to his life knows that Iggy Pop has been there.

The knowledge that he has lived the kind of life that seems tailor-made for such a rise/fall/rise again format makes this new album all the more commanding and convincing. His is a talent that proves to be nearly irrepressible, and for now, experience has only sweetened the fruit it bears. May he keep on truckin'.

Iggy Pop

Reviewed by

Daily Arts Writer

Brian Egan

Virgin Records

Avenue B

09-28-99