Stumbling the Walk

Raw Power in the Fun House

By Chris La Tray, 5-17-07

	Hey, you know where a guy can get a haircut around here?

I think one of the expectations bequeathed on every parent is that, when posed the question, “What is your fondest memory?”, you are supposed to wax poetic on the beatific moment you first laid eyes on your newborn child. Of course I remember the first time I saw my son, all red-faced and wrinkly, but there was no golden halo around him and I did not hear harps, trumpets or the soft whooshing of angel wings. Mainly Sid grimaced distastefully up at me as I scowled down at him, and I read in his expression the same thought that was going through my head: “So this is what I have to work with?” I’m pretty sure he farted too.

I have to say things have gone pretty well ever since. Mainly because from that moment we understood each other.

Most of my big memories involve rock shows. In particular, in 1985 my oldest sister, Nikki, loaded me and two of my friends in her beat up Chevy BelAir and headed for Seattle (burning 6 quarts of oil on the way over and six coming back) so we could see KISS. The first time I laid eyes on my heroes – rising slowly out of the depths of the arena with fists raised while the floor shook with low-end distortion – was the moment where I finally understood why all those prim and proper young girls were bawling their eyes out in all those old Beatles reels; I was damn near in tears myself. They ripped into “Detroit Rock City” and I was in heaven. Trumpets and harps? Phfffft.

I have a new memory I’ll never forget which is also tied to a trip to Seattle for a rock show. This one involved the third song of the headlining band’s set. The song was “I Wanna Be Your Dog.” The band was The Stooges. And the memory is of a shirt-and-shoeless 60 year-old wildman named Iggy Pop rushing across the stage and swan-diving into the crowd right on top of me. At my shoulder that red-and-wrinkled mug from nearly 14 years ago was split in an ear-to-ear grin.

This was the first of what I’m sure will be many family trips to Seattle in pursuit of the rock. It was also the first rock-related trip since Sid has been of an age to really appreciate the spectacle, and he truly appreciated this one. Part of it I’m sure is that he had a friend along. Part of it is that it happened on what should have been a school day. And a big part of it is that it is just fun as hell to jump in a car, eat junk food for a couple days, and go experience a rock show. Hardly a day passes since we saw the show that he doesn’t remark that “the Stooges show seems cooler every time I think about it, Dad.” I am inclined to agree with him. Besides Sid and his buddy Will, I had another friend along too – my girl, Julia. In many ways, she is the catalyst for this particular trip coming together.

My relationship with The Stooges is a product of a fairly recent evolution in my musical tastes. I was familiar with them going back to the late 80’s/early 90’s, but that was more in reference to Iggy Pop as a solo artist (The Stooges having disbanded in 1974). I dug a few songs but never really pursued the particular musical street they lived on. When I met Julia, one of the first things she asked me was, “So are you a Raw Power guy or a Fun House guy?”, referring, of course, to the band’s two most recognizable records. Her philosophy is that you can determine much about a person depending on their answer. I, of course, didn’t commit either way, because I didn’t own either record and had no opinion.

Since I generally can’t abide not having an opinion on anything I’m asked about, I got to work. I picked up Stooges records. That led to other garage-rock records from bands like the MC5 (also from Detroit and contemporaries of Iggy and company, their leader Wayne Kramer is credited for helping The Stooges get their record deal; Julia is also good friends with MC5 bassist Mike Davis and family), T-Rex, Sweet and even vintage Alice Cooper. Modern acts like The White Stripes and The Black Keys joined my record collection. As things tend to evolve in my house, Sid one day asked what band does “this awesome song” that happened to be “Seven Nation Army” by The White Stripes; I handed him the album (Elephant, which he was amazed to learn his dad actually had it) and it wasn’t long before I had to go in his room if I wanted to find any of these types of records.

Of anyone in the household, Julia was most excited when a MySpace bulletin Sid received from The Stooges page told us that their reunion tour was hitting Seattle. There was no question we were going, so we secured tickets immediately, and the stage was set.

This piece cannot end happily with all of us sweaty and satiated without talking about the whirling dervish that Iggy Pop is at 60 years-old (the big 6-0 arriving just a couple days before the Seattle show). I hope I have a third of his energy when I reach that age. I don’t like the word amazing, but the guy was friggin’-A amazing. The whole band was, frankly. The Stooges hit the stage with “Loose” (track 2 from the Fun House record) and the place surged. When Iggy came flying out onto the stage clad only in jeans, it was bedlam. “He was like a god, man!” was what Sid said after the show, and that pretty much nails it. With the Asheton brothers (Scott on drums, Ron on guitar) and Mike Watt (replacing original bassist Dave Alexander, who died in 1975) behind him, Iggy owned the place. I had read gushingly positive reviews of the band’s energetic performances, but nothing prepared me for this. They played the entire Fun House record, a couple cuts from their debut record from 1969, two or three songs from Iggy’s 2003 solo record Skull Ring (which was essentially the first Stooges reunion), and finally a few selections from their new record, Weirdness. At one point Iggy invited the crowd on stage, and immediately the band was engulfed in ecstatic Stooges fans dancing and singing along. I swear, if I hadn’t had two teenage boys to look after I would have flattened anyone between me and the barricades to join them.

All in all it amounted to about a 36-hour vacation, and it was awesome. If I did it all over again I’d do it exactly the same way. A large part of the connection Julia and I have is through music; it has always been the same between Sid and I, and it is huge part of how Julia and Sid also connect. So what if I haven’t taught Sid how to hunt and fish like dads in Montana are supposed to connect with their sons. When Tater Pig, the band Sid, Julia and I have together, plays again, we will open with “Loose” in homage to Iggy and company. For us it will be a celebration of Seattle all over again, and a bond we will probably reflect on over some Thanksgiving years down the road. Or maybe on the way to another rock show of some band we share a love for that doesn’t even exist yet. I can’t wait.

Oh, and for the record, while I love Raw Power, I am totally a Fun House guy. What that says about me I don’t know, but Julia can probably tell you.

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