TIL WRONG FEELS RIGHT: Lyrics and More

Iggy Pop with his trademark bare torso has been a constant presence on the rock scene since the late sixties, suffering an eclipse on the first break-up of The Stooges, being rescued by a productive touring and writing partnership with David Bowie, and in the 21st century going on the achieve widespread acclaim. This attractively produced collection of Iggy's lyrics has an "in yer face" vibe that never quite gets out of hand, backed up by some superb archive and recent photography and cutting edge design work. "1969" is "another year with nothing to do", accompanied by a shot of the soulful 21-year-old Iggy charming his audience. Glen Craig, the photographer, recalls Iggy working in a record store in Ann Arbor while working on his first proto-metal album, and "Not right", "Real Cool Time" and "Little Doll" all date from the same productive year. By 1970 Iggy was a radiant blonde, and songs such as "She got a TV eye on me" have a more personal focus, while "Search and Destroy" of 1973 expresses the urgency of the times in "Ain't got time to make no apology, soul radiation in the dead of night". That same year Bowie describes being introduced to "this funny ragged, ragged little guy with broken teeth" by Lou Reed who said, "Don't talk to him, he's a junkie". Iggy is pictured looking mournful and sitting on a bench with Bowie who wears flat cap, check shirt and turned-up jeans. A few pages later Steve Emberton's action photo is the only one he took of Iggy, but still many people's favourite, capturing the extraordinary physicality of the still-young performer. "The Passenger" has an urban theme that "sees the city's ripped backsides, sees the winding ocean drive", anticipating Pop's later city lyrics, eg "Mixin' the colors" of 1993: "If you leave the hate alone tonight, Music's gonna get you home tonight", or the chilling "Little Electric Chair". The lyrics are raw and the photos magnificent in this tremendous tribute compilation. 285pp, black and white and colour photos, almost 100 lyrics. Remainder mark.
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