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July 21, 2000
THE COMPLETE FUN HOUSE SESSIONS
By DARRYL STERDAN
1970: THE COMPLETE FUN HOUSE SESSIONS The Stooges (Elektra / Rhino Handmade) If there ever was a band voted Least Likely to Succeed, it was The Stooges. Back in the peace-and-love '60s, these four pimply punks from Ann Arbor, Mich., were nothing like the tie-dyed, rockin' teenage combos of the day. The Stooges weren't pretty. They weren't smart. They weren't sophisticated. And talented? Judging by the amateurish blooze-rawk sludge of their first album, they could barely play. Like the act whose name they shared, they were a laughingstock. But The Stooges had a secret weapon: A magnetic mutant of a singer named Jim Osterberg, who went by the handle Iggy Pop. Pop was a doofus savant plugged straight into a power plant on another planet. Onstage, he wore a dog collar, smeared peanut butter on his body, rolled in broken glass, dove into the crowd and generally freaked the hell out of the dope-smoking hippies. Somewhere along the way, he also helped invent punk rock, thus earning The Stooges a spot in music history -- a smelly, obscure little corner but still a place of their own. They called it Stoogeland. And the Fun House was its HQ. Released in 1970, Fun House was one of the most hated albums of its day -- a nihilistic, atonal blast of teen frustration driven by primal drums, two-chord guitar grinds and feral howling. For The Stooges, it was also commercial suicide. Years later, when the world caught up, everybody realized they were the original punk band and Fun House was their twisted opus. By then, naturally, it was too late. The Stooges were long gone from the scene of the crime. Luckily, the evidence -- 13 reels of eight-track tape -- was still in the vaults. And thanks to some musical detective work, we have 1970: The Complete Fun House Sessions, a limited-edition, seven-CD box of every tune, every take, every lyric and every bum note that went into this cult classic. By the numbers alone, 1970 is one massive undertaking. The original Fun House was 36 minutes long with seven tunes -- rockers Down on the Street, Loose, T.V. Eye, 1970, Fun House, the dirgey ballad Dirt and the free-jazz freak-out L.A. Blues. The box has 142 tracks -- 109 songs and 33 bits of studio chatter. There are 16 full and partial takes of 1970, 32 of Loose, 15 of T.V. Eye, 12 of Dirt, 17 of Down on the Street, seven of Fun House and two of L.A. Blues, along with a few blues-jam warmups and a never-released tune called Lost in the Future. All told, it's seven hours of unbridled, unreleased Stooges. Who wants to sit through that? Well, we do. So will any Stooges fanatic. But what's remarkable about 1970 is even if you don't genuflect at the altar of Iggy, you won't be bored. Presented in the order they were laid down live in the studio, these tracks present a narrative all their own, forming a revealing behind-the-scenes documentary of the band. The biggest revelation? These guys can play. Despite their rep as slacker hackers, Iggy, guitarist Ron Asheton, his drummer brother Scott, and bassist Dave Alexander weren't fooling around. As they bash through take after take, you can hear them tightening up, muscling the songs into shape, doggedly inching closer to the perfect groove. Granted, they're no virtuosos. But rudimentary doesn't mean untalented. Asheton offers up 100 solos and seldom flubs. The rhythm section remains just as rock-solid on Take 25 as they were on Take 1. Iggy's wigged-out intensity never wavers, even as he fiddles with lyrics -- for better (Loose's original lines have him "flying on a red hot weenie") and for worse (1970's initial chorus, "all night in a world that's lame," beats the final version of "all night till it blows away"). And there's no shortage of cool studio moments caught on tape, including Iggy reciting a poem about Stoogeland; a wrasslin' roadie who raps about "Da Stooches;" Iggy quipping on Take 22 of Loose that "we should just put out a single," to which the producer retorts, "How about an album with 22 takes of Loose?" And, finally, there's all the original artwork, augmented by pictures of the actual tape boxes and comprehensive, anecdote-filled liner notes. All this doesn't come cheap. Available only online at www.rhinohandmade.com, this sucker will set you back more than $200 after exchange, tax, duty and such. But it's money well spent. Unlike the bloated hits collections that constitute most box sets, 1970 is a true historic document that keeps you coming back for more. Hear that sound? It's The Stooges having the last laugh. Track Listing
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