Gimme Danger: The Story of Iggy Pop

Rating:
Summary: I gave him the beer!
Review: Actually, I haven't read this book, but I glanced at it in the bookstore to see how it decribed the Stooges' appearance at Max's Kansas City in August 1973. The Stooges were booked for four straight nights at Max's that summer. The performances started at midnight and cost five bucks. I took the Greyhound bus from Ithaca, New York to the Big Apple to see the Stooges play on the third night. As luck would have it, the show was cancelled because Iggy had rolled around in glass the previous night, thereby requiring stitches. Therefore, the third and fourth night's performances were pushed back a week to allow Iggy to recover. I returned a week later --- again by Greyhound --- for the third night's show, and sat in the second row to the left of the stage. I came back the next night. I arrived at 9 pm and guaranteed myself the best seat in the house. (Seating was not reserved.) While waiting in line, Mickey Ruskin, the owner of Max's, kicked some kid out of line because he said he was "on drugs." A guy behind me in line noted the irony and commented, "Kicked out for drugs from Max's Kansas City!?" Finally we were let in. The stage was upstairs. And there I sat, front row and center, knees rubbing against the tiny stage. Minutes later, James Wlliamson walks on stage with the Asheton brothers, and they kicked into the opening riff of Raw Power. Moments later Iggy comes hopping onto the stage...The show lasted 45 minutes. Iggy spent the evening diving over my head, onto my head, and standing in my lap....Toward the end of the set, I handed Iggy my Miller beer, which he proceeded to pour over his head. Therefore, I give the book 5 stars for decribing this incident on page 150 or so, but I delete one star for the implication that the beer was given to him from a side table when there were no side tables at the show. And in the paperback edition, I hope it has an index with my name in it as the provider of the beer......

Rating:
Summary: I gave him the beer!
Review: Actually, I haven't read this book, but I glanced at it in the bookstore to see how it decribed the Stooges' appearance at Max's Kansas City in August 1973. The Stooges were booked for four straight nights at Max's that summer. The performances started at midnight and cost five bucks. I took the Greyhound bus from Ithaca, New York to the Big Apple to see the Stooges play on the third night. As luck would have it, the show was cancelled because Iggy had rolled around in glass the previous night, thereby requiring stitches. Therefore, the third and fourth night's performances were pushed back a week to allow Iggy to recover. I returned a week later --- again by Greyhound --- for the third night's show, and sat in the second row to the left of the stage. I came back the next night. I arrived at 9 pm and guaranteed myself the best seat in the house. (Seating was not reserved.) While waiting in line, Mickey Ruskin, the owner of Max's, kicked some kid out of line because he said he was "on drugs." A guy behind me in line noted the irony and commented, "Kicked out for drugs from Max's Kansas City!?" Finally we were let in. The stage was upstairs. And there I sat, front row and center, knees rubbing against the tiny stage. Minutes later, James Wlliamson walks on stage with the Asheton brothers, and they kicked into the opening riff of Raw Power. Moments later Iggy comes hopping onto the stage...The show lasted 45 minutes. Iggy spent the evening diving over my head, onto my head, and standing in my lap....Toward the end of the set, I handed Iggy my Miller beer, which he proceeded to pour over his head. Therefore, I give the book 5 stars for decribing this incident on page 150 or so, but I delete one star for the implication that the beer was given to him from a side table when there were no side tables at the show. And in the paperback edition, I hope it has an index with my name in it as the provider of the beer......

Rating:
Summary: Gimme Danger, You Bet!
Review: Admit it. We're fascinated by a wreck on the highway and cannot help but look. It's the same way when reading about Iggy Pop. The book is most journalistic in its objectivity. And that ain't bad. Mr. Pop's story is quite sensational enough when told matter-of-factly. We sure don't need someone who is in love with the insanity and celebrity that embody this lifestyle.

I genuinely enjoyed the book, having read it purely out of curosity more than anything else. I don't even own a single CD by Mr. Pop, although I'm certainly aware of his body of work, not to mention rock 'n' roll reputation for excess.

So, like a multi-car pile-up on the boulevard, I hadta look. But at the same time my interest is laced with a sense of saddness and sorrow for those involved.

I'll add this: it's probable that lesser rock mortals have died for far fewer indulgences. Some people can do whatever they want in this world, and there's no big penality.

Rating:
Summary: An expertly researched account
Review: Gimme Danger: The Story Of Iggy Pop is the definitive biography of the "Godfather of Punk" Iggy Pop, perhaps best known for his outrageous stunts on stage, including self-mutilation. Scrutinizing closely a life that swung the pendulum from self-deprevation to extreme hedonism, Gimme Danger unfolds a potrait of a complex musician and artist whose career has left a permanent mark upon popular culture entertainment to this day. An expertly researched account, detailed to the verge of lurid, and recommended for anyone keenly interested in learning more about this charismatic yet unpredictable figure.


Rating:
Summary: fire the editors...
Review: I'm a huge fan of Mr. Pop, and have been waiting for a definitive biography for some time. Unfortunately, this isn't it. Ambrose has effectively reprinted huge sections from "Please Kill Me," "I Need More," and "Neighbourhood Threat." Virtually no interviews or research was done from anywhere but these three books. Virtually nothing is said about Iggy's son Eric, and the last ten years of Pop's career are glossed over. Ambrose admits to not being a Pop fan, but feels compelled to repeatedly criticize his work (particularly the use of Pop's songs in commercials). Despite an awesome cover, Gimme Danger is basically a poor researched term-paper on Iggy Pop.

Rating:
Summary: Less than definitive.
Review: This book looks like a thorough biography which might offer some new information, but is actually a sloppy rehash of previously published sources with a nasty, petty overtone. It is difficult to understand what motivated the author apart from money, which is ironic considering his obsession with labeling Iggy as a sellout at every turn. The book is not without entertainment value, but I feel sad and even a little guilty at having purchased it.

Rating:
Summary: Less than definitive.
Review: This book looks like a thorough biography which might offer some new information, but is actually a sloppy rehash of previously published sources with a nasty, petty overtone. It is difficult to understand what motivated the author apart from money, which is ironic considering his obsession with labeling Iggy as a sellout at every turn. The book is not without entertainment value, but I feel sad and even a little guilty at having purchased it.

Rating:
Summary: Gimmie a Gas Mask: I Smell Garbage
Review: What a disappointment. The Iggy Pop story is one of the most interesting in the history of rock and roll, and a serious look at this life and work would surely be a fascinating read. Unfortunately, instead of an intelligent look at a unique artist, Ambrose has instead served up a petty, highly critical, yet often contradictory shambles of a book. The focus here is on the tawdry anecdotes that those familiar with the Pop saga already know all too well, rather than the rise, fall, and rise of one of rock's most enduring provocateurs. Additionally, Ambrose seems to have real problems with Iggy's licensing his music for use in commercials, and for his decision to stay clean enough to get from city to city and play music for his fans. Evidently he subscribes to the rather juvenile notion that striving for success and enjoying it's rewards means selling out. I suggest helping Joe Ambrose keep his own art pure by not buying this book.