I’m serious. Based on last night’s show at the WaMu Theater, this regimen includes spending an hour or so on stage with your shirt off, gyrating in a way that makes Mick Jagger look ready for assisted living by comparison; belting out lyrics to some of the rockinest proto-punk songs of the early ’70s; and taking the occasional stage dive into a crowd admiring fans. I need to work on that whole amassing a crowd of fans part. And, you know, arranging headlining gigs at large venues. And, uh, having songs. But if following Iggy’s program have me looking that shredded when I’m pushin’ 60, I’m gonna make it happen.
Elysia, my partner in crime for the evening, is a Detroit native who’s seen seen Iggy several times. She said last night’s performance was pretty much a stock set. But I was thoroughly impressed. My only complaint — a minor one — was that the Stooges gave up goods too early. Their most addictive numbers “Down on the Street” and “I Wanna Be Your Dog” were over and done in the first 10 minutes. And later some of the newer material kind of blurred together. Guess that’s two complaints. But Iggy and company’s delivery was powerful enough to overcome these flaws.
There was a notable local celebrity sighting, by the way. Mark Arm, leader of the obviously Stooge-influenced grunge godfathers Mudhoney, could be seen meandering through the bear garden and later watching the show from backstage.
Anyway, here are a few of my best shots. A big shout out to Sparkrobot who left a comment on my Air gallery with tips on how to improve the shutter speed. Good lookin’ out, holmes!
From top: Iggy lookin’ lean and mean; with Stooge axe man Ron Asheton; the adoring fans.
And Elysia wound up onstage during “No Fun,” the part of the show where Iggy invited a flock of crazy kids onstage to dance and jump around. The savvy Ms. Smith (of Dockyard Derby Dames fame, by the way) came equipped with a digital camera and got these awesome shots:
From top clockwise: A stage view of Stooge faithful; the set list; Elysia making a graceful exit; the man himself, up close and personal. Not to mention sweaty.