In 1969, rock's musical elite were interested in things like expanding popular music to its furthest horizons, penning surreal lyrics and having a social conscience.
So when an eponymous debut album called The Stooges came out that attempted to throw rock back to its most primal form and sported lyrics that dealt with nothing more than like liking girls, getting girls, and being bored, it made sense that the album was deemed adolescent, meaningless and just plain stupid by critics, the public and most popular musicians.
Now it is 2005 and Rhino Records has released a lush double disc reissue of The Stooges complete with alternate takes, extended versions and producer John Cale's original, quieter mix of the record that the group deemed to be too \arty.""
Why the deluxe treatment for a group who admitted they could barely write songs or play their instruments when they recorded their debut? Well, now the Stooges are hailed by critics everywhere as visionaries, and with good reason-boundary pushing can get boring, and sometimes simpler is smarter. You could sit down and listen to something that makes you think about what makes it good, or you could just put on ""The Stooges"" and furiously bang your head to music that is one loud riff after another.
It is more than that, of course. Occasionally, amateur lead guitarist Ron Asheton augments things with a demented, fuzzy solo and the droning, seemingly tone deaf howl of James ""Iggy"" Ostenberg (now known as Iggy Pop) is a key part of the whole messy affair.
How the Stooges landed a record deal is mind-boggling, but the result is a blessing unto the world. The Stooges kicks off with ""1969,"" featuring all things fun in rock: guitar wah-wah, the Bo Diddley beat (bomp, ba-ba-bomp, bomp-bomp), and lyrics simple enough that after a minute anyone could start singing along. ""It's another year for me and you, another year with nothing to do ... Well, it's 1969, baby.""
""No Fun"" is similar lyrical territory: ""No fun, my babe, no fun/ No fun to hang around, feeling that same old way."" And then there's ""Real Cool Time,"" where Iggy tries to get with a girl about as anti-seductively as possible: ""Can I come over tonight/ What do you think I want to do that's right?""
The lyrics are inarguably adolescent, but in the best sense possible: a big part of any American's adolescence is inexplicable boredom and the things to end it-namely, pursuit of the opposite sex and loud music. In this sense, the Stooges' brutally primitive music and lyrics are truer to life than any brainy musical experiment to come out of the late sixties.
That is what makes the Stooges visionary-while the wide-eyed, acid-laced optimism of hippie culture has faded into nostalgia for today's youth, boredom with life in general and the use of loud, simple rock and roll to alleviate that boredom has not. And by living and documenting that reality, the Stooges' music has become immortal listening.
