REVIEW: Iggy Pop, Avenue B (Virgin)
- Steve Kandell
Tired of the East Village grind, Iggy Pop, now into his fifties, has left the city and moved to Florida, meaning that the Godfather of Punk now officially has more in common with my grandparents than he does with his former drug-addled, peanut butter-covered self. Of course, Iggy's too smart not to realize or even embrace this irony, so on his latest album, Avenue B, named for his former address in New York, he warmly welcomes you to his midlife crisis - a remarkable achievement for someone who was not expected to survive his thirties. But whether or not you want to be privy to this crisis is another matter altogether.
The songs here, many of which are backed by the neo-jazz trio Medeski, Martin and Wood, are largely on the mellow side, broken up by spoken word interludes about troubled relationships past and present. While the idea of Iggy Pop hooking up with Medeski, Martin, and Wood seems like an odd combination on paper, their percussive backing arrangements actually prove to be an interesting fit on songs like "Felt the Luxury" and the title track. Some may cry foul, but there's a dignity in not pretending he's a teenager anymore.
The rougher-edged songs, like the first single, "Corruption," and a remake of "Shakin' All Over" tend to work because there is some restraint at work, as opposed to the hard rock that marked recent efforts Naughty Little Doggie and American Caesar.
This is not to say that Avenue B is a successful album by any means. The songwriting is on the flaccid side and the earnest spoken word interludes tend to be a little embarrassing more often than not. But the record's saving grace, if there is one, has to be Iggy's self-effacing sense of humor, and his intimidating legacy. He can get away with things that would destroy the career of less established artists, although this should not be used as a blanket excuse for pretension. But at the end of the day, he's Iggy Pop - who the hell am I to criticize?
