Barbican, LondonThe grizzled crooner is in a nihilistic mood, thumbing his nose at the Grim Reaper in this brilliantly spirited performance
That he’s appearing as part of the
London jazz festival signals that, at least at first, this punk-pioneering former Stooge does not wanna be your dog tonight. Instead, Iggy Pop explores the subterranean corners of his darkly jazzy new album Free, much of which was written by trumpeter Leron Thomas, who lends sonorous squall to the group’s Berlin-Bowie turbulence.
Tanned, sinewy and the only person who could convincingly pull off a “Rachel” haircut in 2019, Pop leans on his mic-stand, crooner-style, his rumbling vocal basso mucho profundo. He’s a static presence to begin with, conjuring the doomed lovers and the desperate loners wandering through his new songs. He introduces Page as concerning “the damage and weirdness” of a relationship ending, sounding like Kurt Wagner as he sings, all gravel and smoke and bittersweetness. The Dawn, he says, is about depression, and finds him musing “I don’t know where my spirit went,” before growling like Lee Marvin: “But that’s all right.”