(100) Days of Soundtrack: #13 – Iggy Pop – Post Pop Depression

Up until yesterday, when it was released, I didn’t even know Post Pop Depression existed, and yet, as soon as I did, I was glad to. It was, of course, an album by the inimitable Iggy Pop, already rumored to likely be his final one, which makes the album title feel like a pre-emptive pun. Having already been the world’s forgotten boy and a Stooge, not to mention the father of one Nona F. Mecklenberg, he now tries on the role of elder statesman of rock. Furthermore, Pop is joined here by Josh Homme, of almost every hard rock band worth caring about over the last decade and a half. Everything about the album felt like I should have known all about it. So now I do. And now you will also.

It’s interesting that, as this album begins, Pop’s vocals have a bit of a Bowie swagger, and not just because everything has seemed to be coming back to ol’ David. Pop’s first solo albums were Bowie-produced affairs (an era possibly alluded to by the song “German Days” on this disc), and this one comes at a similar age as Bowie’s passing, a similar moment in their careers, and the influence is strong at the possible end as it was at the beginning. It’s a shocking set of coincidences, and it’s also interesting that this comes out more strongly than the also very evident Homme influence providing the underpinning of these songs… most of these tracks could find their way onto a Queens of the Stone Age album. Iggy’s deep, limited voice is carried well by Homme’s darker sounds, though it’s interesting to hear how natural it feels in the mix of “Gardenia,” which stands out from the rest of the collection and feels about as poppy as anything Pop has done since “Candy.” For the most part, however, there’s a barfly vibe, reflections on the fickleness of fame mixing with musings about “champagne on ice.” This sort of wavering lounge act feeling, this tired, dark persona shambling through these tracks, is a surprise when compared to the music that made Iggy Pop a star. We find ourselves in the dark areas, such as on “In the Lobby,” where the manic energy of classic Iggy gives way to a reflection on the scene he would have found himself in. It’s no longer about the “Lust for Life,” but now there are more reflections on what was surrounding that life.

Iggy Pop was never the sort to win a “Best Vocalist” nod, and when you listen deep enough to Post Pop Depression, you can imagine his vocal track isolated. It would not be a pretty picture, and yet the soundtracks to these new songs are built to carry it safely through the track. Even on the sparse “Vulture,” easily the weakest track here, the more exposed vocals are in the context of a weathered landscape. The compositions are quite smart in this way, working with the instrument they have instead of the one they might imagine. If there was one thing I would have feared from this album, it would be finding myself in the midst of a strange revival moment that can’t quite capture the past, as I felt watching performances from the most recent Stooges album. Post Pop Depression not only captures its name (again, the album often feels like an introspective down-and-out lounge star unintentionally making his first artistic statement at the end of his career), but it also shows an understanding of the sort of music that will allow the real musicians here best make their statement. It’s not that there’s no punk energy here… Pop still sinks his teeth into his topics, and “Paraguay” ends with him spitting venom at a culture that is too wired and impersonal, craving a society which still “has spirit.” It’s more that “Paraguay” also opens with a group vocal moment which allows Pop to carry the lower register, or that we see backing vocals in “Sunday” which end the track after Pop’s own voice cuts off. This is an ensemble album for a charismatic frontman, and while it’s never really mistakable whose album this is, Iggy never has to carry it alone. The result is as fine a final statement as one might wish to make.

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