Beat Em Up Tour Spring 2001 concert reviews here.
Beat Em Up Tour Fall 2001 concert reviews here.

6/15/02: The Norwegian Wood Festival, Oslo, Norway. Iggy headlines

Dirt's concert pix.
Nettavisen AS review and pix (Norwegian.)
Afterposten review and pix (Norwegian.) 1996 Afterposten review and GREAT pic -- notice it's the same day and venue both years?
nrk.no review and pix.
Pix of Iggy thru festival website.

SETLIST (Thanks Dirt!)

1. Mask
2. Espanol
3. Beat 'Em Up
4. Drink New Blood
5. Search & Destroy
6. Howl
7. Corruption
8. Real Wild Child
9. I Wanna Be Your Dog
10. Death Is Certain
11. Sterility
12. Home
13. The Passenger
14. Got A Right
15. Cold Metal
16. Death Trip
17. Sixteen
18. TV Eye
19. L.O.S.T.
20. No Fun
21. Raw Power

7/07/02:  Krylya Rock Festival (Wings). Tushino Airfield, Moscow, Russia.

Lifestyle preview and pix.Iggy to fly in for Krylya beer fest
By Michael LOCKSHIN

You know how different brands of practically identical beers pitch themselves at totally different target groups? Well, going by the lineup for the third annual Krylya Festival, one could say that the beer brand behind it is maturing and mellowing into a highly respectable category while, however, still retaining a boozy dark side. Compared to last year, when the same gig was not much different from any similar musical beer or beerless happening, this time around - July 7, when Moscow's northern Tushino field will be turned into a platform for Stary Melnik's birthday - it will be perhaps the best outdoor festival of the year.

Going by just the math, as the organizers explained a couple of weeks ago, there's a lot to tell: 12 hours, 15 bands, thousands of liters of beer and dozens of toilets to service the unruly lines of beer lovers. Musically, the event is as diverse as can be imagined: from Russian veteran rock greats like Mashina Vremeni and Voskresenye to second-generation, highly acclaimed talents like Zdob Si Zdub, to the younger generation - everyone from Multfilmy to Smysloviye Gallyutsinatsii.

The surprises start with a slated performance by the legendary Boris Grebenshchikov, who is supposed to team up with the great Zhivan Gasparyan. And, for dessert, there's a foreign guest - Iggy Pop. The grandfather of punk is dropping in on Moscow. For years, even decades, critics and reviewers have repeatedly claimed that James Jewel Ostenberg - now in his mid-50s - has reached a final state of degeneracy, lost steam and faded away into oblivion. So far, these skeptics have always been proven wrong.

Ognian Radivojevic, Baltic musician Goran Bregovic's right-hand-man, said during his last visit to Moscow that, "Iggy's great - he's still crazy as ever." He should know, since it was these Balkans that created one of Iggy's big hits in the '90s, "Deathcar," from Emir Kusturica's "Arizona Dream."

There's a lot to tell about Iggy, but let's just keep it to the basics. With his group The Stooges, he released a number of now-classic albums in the '60s. He was supposed to replace Jim Morrison in the Doors, but chose to just go out on his own - and turned into Iggy Pop, with his trademark repetitious guitars, sleazy rhythms and smart, cynical one-liners.

 

APF review and pix.

Punk idol Iggy Pop plays Moscow rock festival

MOSCOW (AFP) - Moscow city authorities ordered a heavy security presence for an all-day rock festival at which veteran rocker Iggy Pop was to be the highlight, media reported.

Pop, born James Newell Osterberg 55 years ago, was to give a one-off performance at the close of the annual "Krylya" (Wings) festival which until now has limited its performance roster to include only Russian bands.

More than 1,500 police were at hand at the Tushino airfield in the northwest of the city to head off possible trouble.

Moscow authorities were caught on the hop last month after sections of a 10,000-strong crowd of football fans went on the rampage in Manezh Square, next to the Kremlin, to express discontent at Russia's elimination from the World Cup.

Two people died and dozens were injured as the alcohol-fuelled soccer fans ran riot.

Pop, sometimes known as the godfather of punk, is not expected to excite the same passions, although in the past his stage act has included self-mutilation with broken glass and smearing his body with peanut butter.

Recalling his early wildman persona when he fronted the Stooges, widely considered a precursor to the 1970s punk movement, Pop once said he "wanted music to reach out and strangle people."

The 12-hour "Krylya" festival, first held in 2000, will feature other throwbacks to the 1970s era of classic Russian rock such as Mashina Vremeni and Akvarium, but also newer acts such as Multfilmy and B2.

Town hall officials quoted by the RIA Novosti news agency said they expected a turn-out of around 20,000 people.

7/12/02:  Esparrago Festival, Cádiz, Spain. 22:15 pm.

Indie Rock review and pix.(Spanish.)
Estrella preview (Spanish.)
El Pais preview with picture of Iggy and Nina (Spanish.)
El Pais review and pix (Spanish.)

7/13/02:  Brixton Academy, London, UK. Doors 6:30 pm.

Guardian Unlimited review. (Thanks Donald.)
Iggy Pop

4 stars
Brixton Academy, London
More reviews

Betty Clarke
Guardian

Monday July 15, 2002

Iggy Pop is 55 years old and still making mischief. Half-clothed, hunched over and bedraggled, he is gleefully watching a naked young woman prancing alongside him, arms in the air and breasts bouncing, while another girl jumps up and down in her knickers. It is as though the last 30 years never happened.

Pop has been hailed as the godfather of punk, thanks to his messy and exhilarating tenure in the Stooges, and his anger has rarely abated. His most recent album, Beat 'Em Up, is as scornful of society as ever, his nihilistic lyrics and nagging rhythms still burning with dissatisfaction.

But his showmanship is faintly comical. Pop skips on to the stage, pulling poses as blinding white lights flicker around him and give his craggy features a goulish tint, while the grinding guitars and demonic vocals of Mask add to the freak-show atmosphere. Slight and sinewy, he caresses himself, using his torso like an instrument as he matches each phrase he sings to a flexed muscle, thrusted hips or sudden jerk. When Pop smoothes his long blond hair gracefully, it is like watching a little girl dancing in front of a mirror, overemphasising every motion. He is Bonnie Langford with Keith Richards's wrinkles.

For Beat 'Em Up, Pop spans the tricky rap-rock divide, his gravelly vocals disentangling themselves from the unceasingly heavy guitars. Each new song is strikingly similar to the last, but Pop's voice is perfect throughout, youthful and urgent on the sublime hymn to submission I Wanna Be Your Dog, cold and voyeuristic for The Passenger.

Pop himself is both iconic and personable, inviting fans on stage and constantly demanding for the lights to be on "so I can see your faces while I feed off you". He is stage-diving after only three songs, fiddling about with his zip with a devilish glint in his eye a little later. When his feet get tangled up in his microphone wire and he almost falls flat on his face he simply puffs up his chest and dances like a chicken standing on a hot plate. He may have been doing this a long time, but he does it well - and as irascibly as ever.

MNE review.
Iggy Pop at the Lost Weekend : London Brixton Academy

Last seen on the Letterman show wearing a sarcastic lump of broccoli, tonight punk rock's one man Big Bang whirls forth and declares the game's begun by hacking down the mic stand with his forearm. Iggy's sustained an awesome record of gladiatorial stage madness through his middle years, but surely now, at 54, he'll feel less compulsion to act the human hand grenade.

Except, no, there's no sign of it. The Metallica-a-like three piece band take the psycho-crackhead approach to ‘Mask’ (from last year’s ‘Beat ‘Em Up’ album), setting a pace and intensity which they maintain through the mix of Iggy greats old and new. Meanwhile, the growling, shirtless trunk of sinuous obscenity formerly known as James Osterberg parades before his devotees in a bumcrack-displaying pair of denim hipsters.

The primal frenzy which tracks him around the venue is unmatched in rock, and every second is milked by the wee dynamo of errant calisthenics. He's down on all fours, howling like a werewolf. He's statue still, holding a spastic crucific pose. He's hopping and spinning and then casually leaning and waving, grinning idiotically, while the bulging guitar-lead vein to his heart threatens to burst.

As the band burn Motorhead-style through bludgeoning renditions of 'Search And Destroy', 'Corruption' and Johnny O'Keefe's ‘50s rocker 'Real Wild Child', all remaining hopes of resisting the romantic lure of his writhing legend are systematically napalmed. In underdog anthem 'Now I Wanna Be Your Dog' he executes a perfect swan dive into the crowd. During 'The Passenger' he invites/challenges the whole of the downstairs audience to join him, causing total mayhem as security guards battle massed stage invaders, including one crazed girl who strips naked, gyrating and throwing herself at a man old enough to be her grandpa.

Much of the crowd are first time viewers of the original Detroit destoyer, and their mouths open wide as the show hammers endwards through a velocity-centered 'TV Eye' and a pleasingly mangled 'Sweet Sixteen'. It’s a definitive gig. Less a singer than a mythical beast, Iggy leaves after attempting to pull the Academy's giant speaker stacks over, still the planet's most magnetic rock'n'roll performer, his ongoing revenge for early ‘70s neglect still magical to behold.

Roger Morton

Independant review.
Iggy Pop, Brixton Academy, London
A lust for self-destruction

By Gavin Martin
17 July 2002

There are stars and stripes illuminated on the drum riser, a three-piece band with curly perms and satin shirts churns out a nondescript sonic jihad. Suddenly, there is Iggy Pop, the all-American freak show and 57-year-old force of nature, naked to just below the waist, arms akimbo, lank hair flying. He is a whirlwind in a padded cell, a dancing dervish only visible for a short time before the strobe light obliterates his frenzied movement and the words for the opening song "Mask" hit home.

The title track from his last album Beat 'Em Up, "Mask" is a typically excoriating Pop lyric – a diatribe at the falsity and emptiness of modern life, castigating "critics, college graduates, everybody in LA". But, it soon becomes obvious that, with his low-rent band and intensified theatrics, Iggy, too, is wearing a mask – of his own devising.

On one level you can't blame him: hailed as the greatest rock'n'roll poet and most extreme performer of his era, the one-time Stooges frontman and self-proclaimed "runaway son of a nuclear ape" was washed up, down, and almost out, in mid-Seventies LA. His recovery was evidence of steely resolve, while latter-day albums such as American Caesar and Avenue B revealed a thoughtful tormentor and savage inquisitor of the American psyche.

But the Iggy mystique rests on self-destruction, foolhardy displays of audience baiting, indecent exposure, blood and gore. Tonight, playing the part of the obedient entertainer he gives the crowd most of what they want. He dives into the audience and four bouncers go on a fearless rescue mission. Glasses land on stage and he spits at the crowd. He has a weird, centaur-like physique, made for spectacle, and he delights in contorting it. He hurls insults at the lighting man, exhorts us to drink new blood and howls songs of despair and disdain, boredom and revenge in a tortured vibrato.

It might work but for a band stubbornly tuned to a lowest common denominator: all the scowling magnificence of "Death Trip" and "Search and Destroy" funnelled into a narrow squall of sound. He challenges the audience to be wilder than he is and, during "The Passenger", stage invaders lose no time in losing all their clothes. As they cavort towards him, Iggy's body swerves to the side of the stage and he sticks his tongue out, waggling his hands donkey-ears style at the crowd.

When he sings how "corruption rules my soul and chills my bones" perhaps he's explaining the infantile performance. Irony and sarcasm have long been part of the Iggy survival manual, but on this evidence only the blindly besotted will appreciate the punch line.

This Is London review.
Iggy gets jiggy in Brixton

Iggy Pop, Pitchshifter
by Charles Shaar Murray at Brixton Academy, 13/7/02

It's 30 years, give or take a few weeks, since Iggy Pop played his first-ever London concert, but, seen from the back of the cavernous Brixton Academy, the wiry figure bounding shirtless on to the stage seems eerily unchanged from the archetype of the "beautiful and damned" immortalised on the cover of the 1972 Raw Power album.

A formative influence on David Bowie, Johnny Rotten and many more, the 55-year-old former frontman of Detroit's protopunk Stooges is still the most kinetic performer in rock, barely staying still for a second.

He doesn't exactly dance, at least not in the formal sense of vintage James Brown or Prince: he's either undulating like a belly dancer, flexing his still enviable physique like a bodybuilder or flinging himself around like a hyperactive child.

Backed by a solid, workmanlike trio blasting out his trademark punk/metal roar, he blended songs from his current album Beat Em Up with vintage classics such as Search and Destroy, Now I Wanna Be Your Dog, Wild One and The Passenger, during which he invited a stage invasion, though the ecstatic "guest" dancers were unceremoniously bundled offstage the instant the song ended.

Age and excess haven't frazzled either that distinctive voice - simultaneously harsh and crooning - or his driven, shamanic intensity. As Iggy attempts to shake himself out of his skin, he seems to be exorcising both his own demons and the crowd's. Once a blue-collar Jim Morrison minus the rhetorical flourishes and poetic pretensions, he has become rock's immortal dervish, generating enough energy to light up most of south London.

A packed audience of ageing goths and baby punks received him - literally: this pioneer of crowd-surfing is still prepared to dive offstage into the front rows - rapturously. It doesn't seem as if "the world's forgotten boy" is going to be forgotten any time soon.

xfm review.
Iggy Pop @ Brixton Academy, July 13 2002

On the evidence of a truly raucous performance at a rammed Brixton Academy, only a 24-carat fool would dare question whether the man born James Newell Osterberg can still pack ‘em in, beat ‘em up and spit ‘em out like he used to. Doubts about the recorded inconsistencies of the past 20 years and the overplayed, ‘Trainspotting’-inspired revival of ‘Lust For Life’ are banished forever because, in the live arena, one fact remains unchallenged: Iggy Pop is King.

Shadow-boxing and jumping impatiently at the back of the stage, Iggy can barely restrain himself while his band take root behind their instruments. As soon as ‘Mask’ begins its thrashing charge, so does he. The leash is off, the spring unwinds and high speed dementia takes over as he teases, leaps and writhes across the stage. Yet despite the fact that you know this is what he does, nothing prepares you for the visual spectacle. How can anyone have this much energy? The man is a freak of nature, a physical phenomenon, and the fact that he keeps it up for the entire gig is nothing short of miraculous. Whoever he sold his soul to should be very, very rich.

Marred only by the sound - pure volume replacing clarity - the band hammer their way through a set-list splattered with choice moments from the former Stooges frontman’s back catalogue. ‘Cold Metal’ struts like a bull terrier with an erection, ‘I Wanna Be Your Dog’ tears new holes in dark places, while ‘The Passenger’ finds members of the crowd hauled onstage to dance like loons with The Man.

Finishing with ‘TV Eye’ and ‘Sixteen’, Iggy leaves the stage. The fans go nowhere, shellshocked by a truly iconic performance that, visually at least, borders on the indescribable - and there’s no sign of him slowing down any time soon.

Kevin Wood

Pix from the BBC.

Superfan review:
Review London: Saturday was great! Setlist comparable with Oslo expect they didn`t play Death, Sterility, LOST, No Fun and Raw Power. So it only took 1 hour : )During The Passenger a totally naked girl was dancing on stage. Her clothes were gone! The band laughed and were a bit flabbergasted, Iggy also looked at her. Art had to pull her away. Johnny Depp was there too. (BTW I tried to post this at Virgin's Iggy Pop message board and they told me I was trying to post innapropriate material! -cb.)

SETIST (Thanks Gui.)

1. Mask
2. Espanol
3. Beat Em Up
4. Drink New Blood
5. Search And Destroy
6. Howl
7. Corruption
8. Real Wild Child
9. I Wanna Be Your Dog
10. Home
11. Passenger
12. I Got A Right
13. Cold Metal

Encore

14. Death Trip
15. TV Eye
16. Sixteen

7/15/02:  The Olympia Theatre, Dublin, Ireland. Doors 7:30 pm.

dublinevents.com preview.

THE IRISH TIMES
Reviews
Tony Clayton-Lea
Iggy Pop at the Olympia Theatre, Dublin

While there's little doubt that 50-plus James Jewel Osterberg has set a virtually unassailable benchmark for aspiring rock 'n' rollers, there's also little doubt that as a performer he has nowhere else to go, no new shapes to construct. Yet what goes around comes around, and if the recent renaissance of guitar-based rock is anything to go by it looks as if Iggy Pop will be around for at least another few years, parading his skinny, ugly body, striking crucifixion poses and jumping around like a three year-old high on E numbers.

The bane of any rock performer's life is that, try as they might, they cannot reach that sacred level of epiphany each time they play - irrespective of what the audience might think. Tonight was a prime example of a superb player at the rock 'n' roll game making a valiant attempt at overcoming various difficulties - some self-imposed, so let there be little sympathy - and honourably failing.

The first hurdle was a woeful, take-it-to-the-max sound mix thoroughly undermined by a sloppy, bludgeoning young-gun lead guitarist. The second hurdle was the selection of songs Pop wilfully chose to play (or not). No Lust For Life and No Fun, their place taken by cod-metal tunes such as Home and Cold Metal. Run-throughs of I Wanna Be Your Dog, The Passenger, TV Eye, Sixteen and Real Wild Child (his sole UK Top 10 hit, a vastly unrepresentative choice from the Iggy canon and a song he didn't even write) were delivered with all the throbbing, veined neck we have come to expect.

And yet, amid all the bluster, the iconic postures, the shadow of past glories, there were occasional glimpses of how exciting, how close to danger he could get (which does not include spitting at Andrea Corr). Close to the edge but not close enough, this was not - in the words of Iggy's former, truly great band, The Stooges - a Metallic KO, but just a metallic okay.

SETLIST (Thanks Gui.)

1. Mask
2. Espanol
3. Beat Em Up
4. Drink New Blood
5. Search And Destroy
6. Howl
7. Corruption
8. Real Wild Child
9. I Wanna Be Your Dog
10. Home
11. Death Is Certain
12. Sterility
13. Passenger
14. I Got A Night
15. Cold Metal

Encore

16. Death Trip
17. TV Eye
18. Sixteen

7/17/02:  Barrowlands, Glasgow, Scotland. Doos 19:30.

Daily Record preview.
THE GODFATHER OF PUNK POPS BACK

Jul 12 2002

PREVIEW
Catriona Killin

THE man known to all as The Godfather of Punk is back announcing his demonic, skewed vision of life with a new album entitled Beat 'Em.

Iggy Pop, who plays Glasgow's Barrowland on Wednesday, was once the most dangerous man in music and source of inspiration to many crazed souls.

He burst out of Detroit in the late Sixties as frontman for The Stooges. He invented stage diving and, through his visceral performances and chugging, cataclysmic sound, The Stooges are credited with being the birth of punk.

Following the break up of The Stooges, Iggy went on to forge a remarkable and often imitated solo career dedicated to keeping the danger in music alive. That any of Iggy's solo material ever reached an audience is largely due to his friendship with David Bowie.

The fruit of this unlikely allegiance was 1977's The Idiot, followed later the same year by the commercially- successful Lust For Life, the album that holds Iggy's most famous song, The Passenger.

For some, the music of Iggy Pop had peaked with Lust For Life, many of his later albums, some of highly-dubious musical integrity, were panned, although he did have a hit single with Real Wild Child. It may be viewed as pastiche by some, but Iggy Pop will always represent a trawl through humanity's dark side. Few 55 year olds can say as much.

Daily Record review.
A WILD RIDE FOR IGGY'S PASSENGERS
Jul 18 2002

Catriona Killin

WITHOUT Iggy Pop, there would have been no Sex Pistols, no Ramones, no Hives. He's the man who took rock 'n' roll and spewed it back at the establishment. But at 54, the Godfather of Punk shows no sign of ageing with dignity. Not for him the intelligent musings of his ex-partner in crime David Bowie. No, the Igster is as mean, raw and cramped full of energy as ever. For Iggy, it'll always been 1969. New album Beat 'em Up is no departure from his formula, but live he's triumphant. He erupted on stage with Mask from the new album, a snarling rock maniac. He's half-naked and fully powered. His three-piece band sounds like every metal band you've ever heard condensed into three-minute bursts of fury. Bathed in neon, every muscle strained as he threw his body all over the Barrowland stage. Roadies were kept busy reassembling mike stands as the Ig threw them around. The crowd were half hardened fans, and half metal kids who just can't believe what they are seeing. He's on the speaker stacks, he's in the crowd, he's on all fours one minute and writhing in mock agony the next. Watch out Vines - this is what it should look like. He said: "My fellow Scots, I've got nothing to say except I'm the Real Wild One." He followed Wild One with I Wanna Be Your Dog and set Barrowlands alight as he leapt into the crowd. Total mayhem ensued before he was dragged back on stage by security staff. He may be old enough to be your grandpa, but he's still Searching To Destroy.

Glascow Evening Times review.
Pop lights up the night

by Fergal MacErlean

Iggy Pop
Barrowland, Glasgow, Wednesday, July 17 2002

Raw power incarnate Iggy Pop is never one to dumbdown and this gig was no exception. While many men of his age - 55 - consider mowing the grass to be a substitute for relaxation, the Ig prefers stage diving and leering. Although he did admit to being "knackered" before his second encore. The set started with a half-hour of nu-metal drawing on material from his latest album Beat 'em up before launching into a smattering of the classics which included Search and Destroy and Wild One.  I wanna be your dog is the highlight of the night ..."I wanna be your dog, well c'mon". The crowd lap it up and little encouragement is needed to get them up on stage with the old rocker by the time he sings The Passenger. Security are flummoxed but it's not nearly as chaotic as last year's Gig on the Green when nearly 70 fans stormed the stage as Iggy threatened to murder anyone who got in their way. Yes this was Iggy in a good mood and he enjoyed every minute of it. "Turn the lights on," he yelled halfway through the gig. "I wanna see your faces, yeh turn the ****ing lights on". This seems to be his latest obsession. Rather than writhing on broken glass or shooting up on stage he wants to reach out and touch his new fanbase - couples canoodling back from the melee at the front, kids in the moshpit and hardly a smelly rocker or punk in sight. The atmosphere's electric. Bare torso and hipster jeans clad Iggy never takes a breather. He deserves to be knackered by the end of the two-hour set and the crowd know it revelling in the fact they've seen the world's most extreme performer go wild once more.

7/19/02:  Distortion 2002 Festival, Cardiff, Wales, UK. Bute Park in the shadow of Cardiff Castle.

icwales.co.uk preview.
Stage set for kings of rock
Jul 19 2002

The Western Mail

PEACE and quiet will be the last thing to be had in Cardiff tonight as United States rock band Green Day ratchet up the volume for the next stage of the city's summer music festival.

The band will be taking to the stage in Coopers Field supported by none other than punk bad boy Iggy Pop. Then over the next three days the arrival of the Route of Kings tour featuring rock idols like Rod Stewart, Bryan Adams, UB40 and Meat-loaf promises to make it a rowdy weekend.

The tour is just one small part of the programme of events scheduled for the Cardiff Festival 2002.

icwales.co.uk reveiw.

Great night of music for pop fans
Jul 20 2002
South Wales Echo

AMERICAN punks Green Day and music legend Iggy Pop rocked Cardiff at the start of what promises to be a fantastic music marathon in the city.

The three-piece band from California and the notorious rocker blasted out song after song in Coopers Field last night in the first of the Route of Kings Concerts in the capital.

Both acts belted out old and new favourites and had their thousands of sweaty fans bouncing up and down in the midsummer heat.

And last night's gig was just the beginning of a week of music in the city.

Today sees Party in the Park in Cooper's Field, where 20,000 fans are expected to bop the day away to Hear'Say, Blue, Liberty X, the Sugarbabes and Darius.

And tomorrow the Groover from Vancouver Bryan Adams will be on stage.

And if that was not enough, Scottish rocker Rod Stewart is in town on Tuesday to be followed by Meatloaf a week tomorrow.

Superfan review:
Review Cardiff: No need to say that almost everybody came to see Greenday. With some struggle I got to the first row where I was the only one in the front who welcomed Iggy. From the minute they came on, empty and full bottles started to make their way to the stage, there was absolutely no enthusiasm coming from that audience; dead bodies all over the place. It reminded me of Sting`s Message in a bottle. Iggy had to step carefully on a platform to avoid all these bottels. Still the band played pretty well, laughed with it all and Iggy challenged the audience by showing them the finger or calling them green beans (youngsters with their hair painted green) or little brats.
During Cold Metal Iggy made the music stop and said to someone on the first row What did you call me, a wanker? You called ME a wanker?You wanna come on stage and do this, come on you little WankCat! Come on! Then it was on with the show again. Songs left out of list : Drink new blood, death is certain, sterility, LOST, no fun, Raw Power. Setlist same as Oslo.

7/20/02:  Distortion 2002 Festival, Wollaton Park, Nottingham, UK. 7:30pm-8:45pm. Main stage.

virtua-lfestivals.com review exerpt and pix.

No anouncement is needed to introduce Iggy Pop as he pogos onto the main stage. This is a man who believes firmly in having a minimalist wardrobe. Skin tight hipster jeans - 1 pair... that's it! The godfather of punk is a frenzied web of energy and bulging veins who likes to say 'f**k' an awful lot. He might be nearly double - in fact probably closer to treble - the age of many of the other bands today, but in a fight I know where my money would be.

He once stage dived right on top of me, and the crowd gave way, leaving me pinned nose to nose with the great one. I can tell you that close up and personal, with our breath mixing and eyes staring into each others, Iggy Pop is quite possibly the scariest person on the planet!

Tracks from a repertoire that stretches back to his early days hanging out with The Doors and going all transvestite wierdy included Corruption, Wild One ('Do ya wanna see me go f***in' wild ya little muthaf*****s?' - you see what we mean?), I Wanna be Your Dog, Home, Passenger, Cold Metal and Sweet 16. Iggy berates his band ('Now you three booger eatin' muthaf*****s are going to play the f*** out of these next three songs - right??!'), he berates the security line ('What are you guys in the yellow shirts so f***in' afraid of? Loosen the f*** up!!') and he berates the state of modern music ('The heart's gone out of rock, and pop is sh*t, and you're eatin' sh*t on the radio and on DVD!!!').

He leaves us with a crashing roar of static feedback and a victory/peace sign that, as he turns his back on the crowd, becomes a single finger salute to the cr*pness of it all and his own unique greatness. IGGY ROCKS!!!

virtua-lfestivals.com pix (dropdown list.)

Nottingham Evening Post review.
SHOWSTOPPERS!

12:00 - 22 July 2002

It was a day when Green Day made a grey day bright. Not only did the band stop the show, more importantly they stopped the rain.

As they took to the stage, the chanting and rain stopped and the sun shone on the glorious backdrop of Wollaton Hall.

Distortion 2002, what was left of City in the Park after stars Jamiroquai pulled out, opened on Saturday with sunshine and bands such as Snuff, The Levellers, and Raging Speedhorn.

Wandering around in this tree-filled setting made for some bizarre viewing on and off the two stages... lots of green hair, tatoos, Mexican trumpeters, Batman and Robin and even a 3ft Asian Elvis lookalike.

The golfers and deer looking on must have wondered what was going on.

But everyone in the 20,000-strong crowd was enjoying themselves as they browsed around the stalls ranging from a tattoo and body-piercing parlour to the folk selling emergency ponchos - a popular purchase after four hours of persistent rain.

As the day wore on, names for the future came to stake their place with Nottingham's alternative rock fraternity.

The lively Rival Schools, The Wildhearts and a Hundred Reasons belted out soon-to-be-remembered tunes, while the more established band Starbucks treated the crowd to A and Idlewild appeared fresh from a stint with Steve Wright on Radio 2.

The heavens continued to open as notorious ageing rocker Iggy Pop came on stage.

He was as professional as you would expect: posing for photographs, milking his fans and stomping around the stage topless as if in his own backyard.

Some younger members of the gathering stood opened mouthed at his antics and expletives, but happily bounced around to hits such as Passenger and Lust for Life.

One more break for a change of equipment and headliners Green Day hit the stage running, belting out old favourites like Maria, Welcome to Paradise, and Basket Case.

Lead guitar vocalist Billie Joe Armstrong announced, to his fans' excitement, that he was going to get three audience members on stage to create Nottingham's very own version of Green Day.

After much deliberation, the chosen ones got to play their idols' instruments with unbelievable precision. Chris, the young fan who played Armstrong's part, even got to keep his guitar.

In the youngster's honour, Green Day played their massive hit Minority which sent everyone spiralling into the frenzied mosh pit. Water guns and pyrotechnics, along with the band's energetic performance, brought the day to a close. As the ticker tape covered fans on their way home, you couldn't help wonder whether Green Day really did stop the rain, or were they so good that no one cared?

Superfan review:
Review Nottingham: The sight of all those Greenday fans already made me feel nauscious, they don`t wanna even comprehend that Greenday is just another copycat of Iggy. I didn`t make it to my favourite spot; enduring rain was part of the reason. I stood all the way on the left hand side. Iggy was much more talkative here then in Cardiff. Just a few bottles this time. In the middle of the fence there was some action going on, that part of the audience did appreciate him . But all these youngsters had a pretty rough time; I saw people with bloodnoses, limping legs,...Iggy said stuff like Come on give me some love, I work my ass off for you! During I wanna be your dog he was hanging on to the crowd in front and said something like There is no hart in music anymore, rock is dead, shit popmusic! Right before the start of the last 3 songs he èncouraged` the band to give all the energy they got and play those motherfucking tunes for those motherfucking people.
Setlist same as Cardiff.

7/21/02:  Festival Des Vieilles Charrues, CARHAIX, France. Scène Glenmor 13:30..

Le Monde review. (French.)
wanado.fr preview (French.)
lesinrocks.fr preview (French.)
ouest-france.fr preview (French.)
Pix from the show's website.
Gui's review.

SETLIST (Thanks Gui.)

1. Mask
2. Espanol
3. Beat em up
4. Drink new blood
5. Search and destroy
6. Howl
7. Corruption
8. Real wild child
9. I wanna be your dog
10. Home
11. Lust for Life
12. The Passenger
13. I got a right
14. Cold Metal

15. Death Trip
16. TV eye
17. Sixteen
18. No Fun

7/23/02:  Theatre Antique de Vienne, Vienne, France. 20:00

concertandco.com pix and fan reviews.

7/25/02:  Grona Lund, Stockholm, Sweden. 19:30.

Dirt's concert pix.
Svenska Dagbladet preview. (Swedish)
Nando Times picture.
Aftonbladet: review. (Swedish, thanks Micke.)
Expressen review. (Swedish, thanks Per and Micke.)
Dagens Nyheter review.(Swedish, thanks Micke.)
Svenska Dagbladet review. (Swedish, thanks Micke.)
Associated press photo.

SETLIST (Thanks Dirt!)

7/26/02: Storsjöyran Festival, Östersund, Sweden. Doors 19:30.

Ostersunds-Posten review. (Swedish) (Thanks Micke.)
Ostersunds-Posten video snippet of show. (Swedish) (Thanks Micke.)

7/27/02:  Suikerrock Festival, Tienen, Belgium. Main stage 22:15-24.00.

Picture from show at festival site.

7/31/02:  Cagliari, Sardinia, Italy. Mountain Claro Park Theater, 22:00.

L' Unione Sarda preview.

8/02/02:  Sziget Festival, Hajógyári Island, Budapest, Hungary. 21:30.

Reuters preview and photo.

The Budapest Sun article and picture.
August 8, 2002 - Volume X, Issue 32

Iggy rocks Sziget

This year’s Sziget Festival got off to a record start with an average of more than 50,000 international rock fans turning up daily for the musical extravaganza which over a decade has grown into one of Europe’s major pop festivals.

The major attractions at the weekend were US punk veteran Iggy Pop, pictured, who showed you’re never too old to jump about like a teenager, and Britpop band Pulp, whose Saturday night gig at the Óbdua Island venue pulled in a crowd of 58,000, and British dance outfit the Stereo MCs. Sunday saw German punk legends Die Toten Hosen and Hungarian metal band Tankcsapda take center stage.

The Budapest Sun article.
ugust 8, 2002 - Volume X, Issue 32

Wild times with Iggy at the Szigit

By Lucy MallowsOh Lordie, I feel old. I wandered around Óbuda island the day before the festival opened, trying to get my bearings before the crowds and the dust enveloped the horizon.

I saw a group of honed and tanned young men putting up the equipment on the main stage and I suddenly had a flashback. It was 1982 and I was working as stage crew for the Entertainment society at Leeds University.

We put up and took down all the amps and heavy stuff and were paid with four cans of Tetley’s bitter. One of the concerts was given by a certain James Jewel Osterberg - alias Iggy Pop - and he came to say hello when he did his sound check, what a nice, polite young(ish) gentleman.

Now here we all are again 20 years later and I fear Mr Pop has weathered the storm much more successfully than yours truly. At 55, he may be called "the grandfather of punk" but his sinewy body still looks a treat (even after ingesting enough chemicals to flatten a cart horse) and he can still leap about the stage belting out hits better than most.

I stood at the back of the throng feeling a crowd-phobic migraine coming on, I suffered contact lens crises by the dozen in all that dust and I was disturbed by the fact that, given my advancing years, I could logically have given birth to at least 80% of the audience. Not individually obviously, but it was a terrifying thought and one that did not help to improve my mood.

Saturday night and the island was rocking; 58,000 people had come to party. We headed for the Rádió C Roma Sátor where some of the best music was generated. We caught the end of the fabulous Ando Drom, who were whipping up the huge, enthusiastic crowd into a frenzy as the dusk (or was it the dust?) settled over the Island.

Struggling through the crowds, heading north for the ever-popular World Music Stage to see the French band P18, I was flattened by a seven-foot tall lad who was otherwise occupied, shouting to his friends in an American accent, "You know, the first time I took acid...." Yes, he really said that. Perhaps the spirit of Glastonbury is indeed alive and kicking, although first impressions reveal a lot less drunkenness than previously. I imagine few can afford to get wasted with a pohár of Dreher selling for Ft190.

We passed the extremely loud Zanzibár Intim Zóna tent - how intimate can you get with that racket going on? - then peered into the one-time controversial Magic Mirror tent, but at 9pm it was almost deserted. However, one of the bar staff, Agota from Café Eklektika, said that the tent really came alive from 11pm onwards.

The tent was in a disco dolly area featuring the popular Cinetrip Labiritmus, Cha-Cha-Cha’s hip hangout, Tilos Rádió and the Vox Café, Roxy SunCity and the gigantic aircraft-hangar sized rave venue FéNyár Hangár. These are late night venues, hotting up way past my bedtime.

The queues for henna tattoos stretched way back as we headed for the main stage to see Pulp.

As we were making slow progress through the tree-to-tree walls of revelers, a young fellow tapped me on the shoulder and asked in extremely polite and respectful Hungarian, "Excuse me, you wouldn’t possibly have a paper tissue you could give me?" Oh dear, I am indeed a mother figure.

"‘Ullo, ‘ow are ya" said Pulp’s front man Jarvis Cocker, and then attempted a passable "‘Ogy vagy?"

The band played songs from the new album We Love Life as well as the classics. We then headed for the Bee Extrémpark, past the Milli Milk Bar (I’m sorry, but milk is just not rock’n’roll!).

In the Bee adventure castle, healthy youths were clambering all over the climbing frame but the big draw was a device that used enormously-strong rubber ropes to propel pairs of daring adventure-seekers 60 meters into the air at 100kmph in a kind of reverse bungee jump.

From the distance it appeared like a shimmering ball of light taking off into orbit into the night sky - an appropriate metaphor for the soaring Sziget.

The Budapest Sun preview.
Style - Music Story
June 27, 2002 - Volume X, Issue 26

Pop legend

By John Hayes

You read it here first. A couple of weeks ago I announced that a truly legendary punk rock combo would be hitting the main stage of this year’s Sziget music festival. This was an understatement. Iggy Pop is not only a legend, he is the granddaddy of rock ‘n’ roll as we know it today.

Without Iggy Pop and the Stooges (although credit must also go to MC5, the Ramones and the New York Dolls) we may never have seen the likes of the Sex Pistols, Guns ‘n’ Roses and a whole host of other modern-day rockers.

Iggy formed the Stooges in 1967, a time when music was wrapped-up in the psychedelic nonsense of the hippy era. The Stooges’ music neither dwelled on the loved-up tunes of flower power or the political rants of the anti-Vietnam movement. Instead they focused on what many at the time described as "Stoopidity", bringing debate amongst musos as to whether or not they could actually play.

Surprisingly the group survived seven years of self-abuse (and I’m not talking about a small pre-show gin and tonic), mixing with the likes of Andy Warhol, Jim Morrison and the Doors and latterly David Bowie, before they fell apart in true punk rock fashion.

Iggy fell further than most and ended up living on the streets of LA, devoting much of his time to his increasing drug habit. He was, however, a survivor, managing to pull himself up by the breaches and to this day he continues to buck trends whilst selling out shows as a solo artist the world over.

If you like your music with an edge (on which the singer is teetering), Mr Pop will not

disappoint you.

hiros.hu review. (Hungarian)
Magyar Hirlap article. (Hungarian)
Magyar Hirlap picture. (Hungarian)
Magyar Hirlap review. (Hungarian)

8/04/02:  Rock On Rock, Sports Center, Krk Island, Croatia. Doors 19:00.