Being that I’m of the very vocal opinion that Iggy Pop is, was and remains the greatest living American, people are frequently prone to steering any bits of content they spot about him my way. This week, one such piece came via The New Yorker in the form of a sprawling interview by one Amanda Petrusich to coincide with news of the September release of Iggy’s 18th studio album, Free. I lapped it up, of course, being that I welcome reports of any new Iggy activity, although I seem to remember his vague suggestion about two years back that Post-Pop Depression, his celebrated collaboration with Josh Homme, was intended to be his swan song. I guess he’s still got stuff to say, and I salute that.
The only reason I’m addressing it here -– as it’s otherwise a fine article worth your time -– is Petrusich’s frankly lame attempt to draw some sort of parallel between certain aspects of Iggy’s notorious antics with The Stooges to the contemporary subgenre of so-called “SoundCloud Rap,” which is populated by mumblers like Lil Peep, Lil Xan and Post Malone. Petrusich writes:
It’s possible to find echoes of the Stooges’ penchant for physical and spiritual obliteration in contemporary music; I often encounter a similar sort of purposeful dissolution in the songs of emerging rappers on SoundCloud. Many of these m.c.s praise benzodiazepines and other anti-anxiety medications, and their slurred, depleted delivery seems to indicate a wish to briefly disappear. They tattoo their faces, a gesture that swears off mainstream acceptance. Why worry over a future when there might be no future? Watching someone give in to chaos and panic can be palliative for an audience. Still, rebellion that vicious will eventually catch up with a person. Now, Pop told me, his “skeleton is the weak area.” Occasionally, he uses a cane.
I assume this is Petrusich trying to both lend some sort of contemporary relevance to her subject and assert that so-called SoundCloud Rap follows a template laid out by bands like the Stooges, but that’s where I’m going to have to beg to fuckin’ strenuously differ. While, yes, the Stooges were certainly prone to acts of nihilism, violence, wanton antagonism and drug-&-alcohol-abuse (all evinced well to the fore on the fabled live recording, Metallic K.O., as one example), I’d suggest the similarities come to a crashing halt right there.
The Stooges may have demonstrated a brand of insouciance regarding any repercussions of their actions, but the execution of their particular brand of music entirely belies any common thread to the blithely passive, sleepy, slurry and lyrically lethargic core of today’s SoundCloud rappers. The mumblers have precious little to actually say beyond laconic testaments of their wealth and prowess, usually set to lazy beats. If that’s your thing, gee, that’s swell -– but don’t try to suggest it has anything in common with The Stooges. Even at their mellowest, the Stooges’ songs packed a wide-awake wallop. They didn’t call the third album Raw Power for nothing.
Put simply, there is no credible connection between the soppy sonic bullshit of Post Malone et al. and the incendiary, primal fury of the first three Stooges albums. None whatsoever. I realize today’s youth like different stuff, but let’s please stop drawing these false equivalences.
Recent Comments