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IGGY POP - IGGY POP AT LITTLE STEVIE'S UNDERGROUND GARAGE FESTIVAL |
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by Maria Carreon
Iggy Pop at Little Stevie’s Underground Garage Festival Bo Diddley blew us away. The Romantics blew us away. The Dictators, the Fuzztones, the Raveonettes, the New York Dolls, the Strokes! Oh my god. It was overwhelmingly euphoric. And those are only some of the amazing bands that played. We drank a few beers and enjoyed hanging out on the grass when we weren't up in the thick of the crowd in front of the stage rocking our bodies this way and that. There were sixty go-go dancers that rotated the stage in groups of ten (I think). Something about them all shaking and shimmying in their multi-colored sequins and fishnets put the mood in the crowd to dance. The bands, the bands...what a beautiful thing they were. I felt so lucky to be standing there the entire time that even after hours of standing and sitting and dancing and drinking and hollering and clapping and whistling and screaming, I never wanted it to stop. By the time the Strokes played, we were only a few feet from the front. They were phenomenal. By the time Iggy finally came on, the last, the headlining, the wildly anticipated Iggy and the Stooges, everyone was so full of energy and excitement that the crowd could barely contain itself. My friends and I were right at the front of stage left. And then the band came out and fucking rocked us. I mean rocked us like no one else could. Iggy filled the space that no one else could fill, with all the incredible talent and presence of the other bands, he had the aura and demeanor that no one else could match. He had the allegiance of the audience that no one else could command. He is totally unique. We’d seen all these other beautiful performers throughout the day, heard these great songs, amazing classics, and witnessed all the energy they had to offer. It was spectacular. Nearly each and every one of them. They made us dance, scream, smile wide happy smiles, and brought the supreme gift of great music to all of us. But when Iggy came on, you understood something else. You understood how a crowd could stand for an entire day, waiting for him with such profound anticipation. Why people would travel thousands of miles to watch him. (I know a girl who came from Los Angeles to New York for this show). His presence is raw power. That compact body, a map of taut skin and lean muscle... That swagger that looks like a result of scoliosis or one leg being ever so slightly longer than the other… Barefoot, looking like a god in tight, hip hugging blue jeans and not a thing else, his body a sculpture of total perfection, his limbs contorting, posing, strutting to express his true, primal nature, he tells us the truth and we can’t get enough. Can’t get enough of hearing him and watching him. His energy grabbed every single person in that crowd... and we went absolutely wild for him. He came right up to our side of the stage and I do believe we made eye contact a of couple times. He is so much WITH the crowd. He doesn't project boundaries or try to separate himself mentally, he seems to try and merge with his audience with all of this insane intensity and physical exertion. And people respond to him, they devour the lyrics that he belts out, absorbing him like a religion. He dove into the crowd soon after entering his first song. There was no doubt that he would be caught and held by his fans, and you knew that every hand that reached up to support him was not just holding him up, but possessed by desire, vying for a little piece of what is inside him. At one point people were trying to climb over the barrier to the security walkway in between the stage and the crowd and Iggy shouted, "let them in!!! LET THEM IN! Let them on the stage! Come on! Let them in!!!" People were struck with fervor and just started pushing, grabbing, tumbling over one another to get over the barrier. We felt the crowd pushing at our backs, people eager to accept Iggy's invitation, eager to get a little closer to this idol. Kathleen and I made the mutual decision to climb over the barrier and join the rest of the maniacs at the stage directly in front of Iggy. It was chaos. I thought there might be a riot and it would be all Iggy's fault. But it didn't turn into a riot. Iggy had about twenty five or more people up on the stage with him, dancing their hearts out, and everyone else trying to get up there too, but eventually, order was restored. Though not before we got to stand up on a ledge for about fifteen minutes with an amazing view of the entire crowd, my own body frenetically charged, jerking and gyrating in spite of its aches and pains. I didn’t really care if the discs in my spine started detonating one by one, we were dancing the night away with Iggy as our saint, bringing the natural ecstasy of energy and music, and the virtue of abandoning rules and responsibility for just a little while, into all of our lives. During his show, the rain began to fall. There wasn’t anything bothersome about it. This storm was coming and this man was rocking and this crowd was on its feet, these people were wearing their love for this music, for Iggy, and they got love back. They got a spectacle of truth and beauty and artistic aggression, reality as presented by Iggy and the Stooges…and a great, great time. And then it was over. And we took our tired bodies home to rest. Another incredible memory to store away and enjoy for the lifetime to come. |
