Iggy Pop has been a constant presence since his early days. I vividly remember attending his live performances in the 1980s, and each time, my excitement was through the roof. His collaborations with David Bowie, notably the groundbreaking albums “The Idiot” and “Blah Blah Blah,” left a lasting impression on me. It’s incredible to witness Iggy Pop’s enduring relevance as he grows wiser and pushes the boundaries of what is possible as one ages. He proves that being older doesn’t mean you have to conform to the stereotype of a senior citizen.
I can recall the iconic footage of Iggy Pop performing live in 1970, captured by a local TV crew at Cincinnati’s Midsummer Rock Festival. One image stands out: the crowd lifting a shirtless Iggy above them, clinging to his legs while he stands tall, pointing ahead with a silver-gloved hand.
It’s a powerful reminder that the Stooges were not always met with incomprehension and disdain. In Cincinnati, the audience loved them. Nobody present that day imagined Iggy Pop would still be captivating audiences fifty-three years later.
Yet, here he stands, headlining a one-day festival at the Crystal Palace Park in London, overshadowing acts like Blondie and the Buzzcocks. Within seconds of taking the stage, he sheds his shirt, flips off the crowd, and labels them “fuckers.” His appearance is extraordinary, with wrinkles and prominent veins adorning his torso. There’s a faint suggestion of a paunch around his middle, but at 76 years old, Iggy Pop is old enough to be a father to most of the audience, largely comprising late middle-aged individuals.
To some, this may not seem extraordinary in an era where age is no longer a barrier for rock stars. We’ve witnessed artists in their eighties headlining Glastonbury. However, Iggy Pop sets himself apart from his fellow elder statesmen by doing what he has always done on stage. He flings himself to the floor, clambers over speakers, hoists his microphone stand above his head, and then hurls it across the stage midway through “I Wanna Be Your Dog.” During “Nightclubbing,” he punctuates his vocals by sticking the microphone in his mouth, playfully mimicking a sexual act. At one point, he even spits at a cameraman filming him for the screens at the side of the stage.
One might view this as pathetic—a man closing in on 80 behaving as he did in his 20s, an exaggerated spectacle. However, it is anything but that. It is utterly captivating, as defiant and confrontational as the legendary performances that often ended in bloodshed and chaos. It helps that Iggy Pop’s voice sounds as fantastic as ever—a rich baritone that can still reach a howl.
His backing band is phenomenal, featuring a horn section that occasionally ventures into the free-blowing territory reminiscent of saxophonist Steve Mackay’s contributions to the Stooges’ 1970 album “Fun House.” Most of the time, the horns provide additional power to the guitar riffs, amplifying the impact of songs like “Lust For Life” or “Loose.”
The carefully curated setlist is also a major factor in the experience, comprising a mix of songs from this year’s “Every Loser” and the Stooges’ discography, along with Iggy Pop’s 70s albums assisted by Bowie. It includes enough surprises to avoid feeling like a tired run-through of predictable hits, such as having the 1972 out-take I’m Sick Of You instead of No Fun or 1969, a grinding, potent version of The Idiot’s Mass Production.