The first time I heard the Stooges' 1970 masterpiece, Funhouse, I was floored. I mean fucking floored. If I cared to go so far as to Google the facts, I could pinpoint the exact day, but suffice to say, it was the sad one on which Frank Sinatra died. 1998.
I had heard the Stooges before. I was in college at the time, and Raw Power had for years been my pre-exam good luck tape to play on the way to class. Also, the eponymous Stooges album had been in heavy rotation for a month or so before my Funhouse Satori.
And of course, I thought I was the king of intense music. Already fervent disciple of the Birthday Party, Einsturzende Neubauten, and John Coltrane, I didn't expect much out of music anymore; at least not much that could kick my ass more than those I just mentioned. I had heard it all: screams, howls, wails, dissonance, punk rock, and all the atonal chaos with which I could ruin my hearing.
And then I popped it on. Popped my cherry all over again.
Down on the street was all it took. I was hooked.
It was fucking and fighting at the same time. Like I said it was satori, but satori plus. A kick in the eye for sure, and a pointy-toed boot in the ear. It was a reference point for everything than came after. Year zero. The culmination of Coltrane and 60's garage rock gone nuts.
Sonically, it put the 60's to bed, like Nirvana would do a few decades later to hair-rock. In a personal context, it did he same for me. Suddenly then, and still to this day, every rock and roll and punk rock record I hear is judged by it.
All you punk motherfuckers need it. If you don't have it, buy it, download it, or steal it, and watch everything in your record collection shrink in importance. It's that good.
Unlike a few of my friendships and many of my favorite records of the aformentioned time period, it has not soured with time. Thirty-five years after its initial release, its still more intense than anything on the market. Seven years after my initial listening, it hasn't lost its hard-on, and nor have I.
Listening: The Stooges - The Complete Funhouse Sessions
Reading: Ayn Rand - Philosophy - Who Needs It
I had heard the Stooges before. I was in college at the time, and Raw Power had for years been my pre-exam good luck tape to play on the way to class. Also, the eponymous Stooges album had been in heavy rotation for a month or so before my Funhouse Satori.
And of course, I thought I was the king of intense music. Already fervent disciple of the Birthday Party, Einsturzende Neubauten, and John Coltrane, I didn't expect much out of music anymore; at least not much that could kick my ass more than those I just mentioned. I had heard it all: screams, howls, wails, dissonance, punk rock, and all the atonal chaos with which I could ruin my hearing.
And then I popped it on. Popped my cherry all over again.
Down on the street was all it took. I was hooked.
It was fucking and fighting at the same time. Like I said it was satori, but satori plus. A kick in the eye for sure, and a pointy-toed boot in the ear. It was a reference point for everything than came after. Year zero. The culmination of Coltrane and 60's garage rock gone nuts.
Sonically, it put the 60's to bed, like Nirvana would do a few decades later to hair-rock. In a personal context, it did he same for me. Suddenly then, and still to this day, every rock and roll and punk rock record I hear is judged by it.
All you punk motherfuckers need it. If you don't have it, buy it, download it, or steal it, and watch everything in your record collection shrink in importance. It's that good.
Unlike a few of my friendships and many of my favorite records of the aformentioned time period, it has not soured with time. Thirty-five years after its initial release, its still more intense than anything on the market. Seven years after my initial listening, it hasn't lost its hard-on, and nor have I.
Listening: The Stooges - The Complete Funhouse Sessions
Reading: Ayn Rand - Philosophy - Who Needs It