February 1974 - Iggy Pop Scene Magazine

Iggy Pop is, you might say, extreme. He makes the Mick Jaggers and Alice Coopers of this world look kind of timid. Words such as 'spontaneous' and 'unpredictable,' frequently applied to him, are a little short on power. The Ig is a monster.

"Yes," he modestly admits, "I'm a legendary figure, I am, strangely enough."

Iggy's exploits are not for the delectation of the faint-hearted. Tales of gore, of ripping flesh, crushed bones, shattered teeth, of hot wax poured over naked torsos, of frothing obscenities, of dark insanities enacted to the bloodthirsty whelps of a voice which sounds as if it's just crawled out of the primordial slime.

All this and Iggy says, "I consider my music very understated. I only really just hint around the

edges of what I'm into." Now supposing he got just a little carried away one night?

His exploits constitute landmarks in the steamy history of rock. One night a couple of years back, stone-drunk, he vomited all over the first couple of rows at Ungano's Club in New York City.

One of his favorite antics is to leap off the stage, into the audience, and thrash about like a landed fish, daring them to, well, do things to him. Some American audiences don't need much encouragement.

There was the time some of this activity got shown on television. "I was held down, while one chick was pulling off my pants, some others were tryin' to French kiss me, and this other one gave me a blow job. All the while I'd be hittin' one, kickin' another. I like violence. It turns me on."

Off stage it's amazing to realize just how small Iggy is. In performance he projects a gargantuan persona, doing backbends and somersaults and assorted bodily contortions of a kind which would stir even an advanced yogi from a trance. His own assessment of his performances is modest. "I'm jus' doin' my part."

Mick Rock