Catching Up With... Iggy Pop

Punk godfather Iggy Pop, once known for his tumultuous life, dangerous stage antics and ruthless behavior off the stage, has bid farewell to thrashing guitars and mutilating his body. After all, the man born James Newell Osterberg, Jr. is now 62, and along with mourning the loss of his close friend, Stooges guitarist Ron Asheton, Osterberg is also transitioning into the birth of a new genre of music. On June 2, he released a solo jazz-influenced album, Préliminaires (the title is French for "foreplay"). In a video interview originally posted on IggyPop.org, he explains that he decided to record the album because he was, "sick of listening to guitar bands.” In the video, Osterberg is sitting poolside outside his home in sunny Miami, with a fluffy white dog by his side. Explaining one of the songs on the album, "King Of The Dogs," he states, “It’s about just how cool it is to be a dog and how much it beats human life." Fair enough. Paste caught up with Osterberg via phone.

Paste: Hi Iggy. Or should I call you Mr. Pop?

Iggy Pop: Oh... [pauses] Nah, just Iggy. [laughs]

Paste: Great. Where are you now?

Pop: I am in the Cayman Islands

Paste: Lucky you, I'm in the East Village, It’s getting seedy again, the way it used to be.

Pop: Yes! It’s a sign of the times! That's a good thing!

Paste: Sure is! Well, I love your new album, can you tell me about it? I am surprised that not only are you singing in French on some of the tracks, but it’s unlike any of your work…

Pop: Well, this record originated as a documentary project. It was an unusually good experience. I had a great time, I didn't have to see anybody and that was the best part!

Paste: Who approached you, initially?

Pop: Well, Some Europeans—talented Europeans—wanted a song or two about a French writer, Michel Houellebecq. Because there were no deadlines or money involved, and I was paid well for their documentary, instead of taking the money and putting it in the bank, I used it for this album

Paste: How long did you spend mixing and recording?

Pop: An old friend of mine, bassist Hal Cragin, sent me these old tapes from stuff I did, jamming on my acoustic guitar 10 years ago, real quiet music. One of the songs was “Autumn Leaves,” and I thought it fit the project I was doing nicely. As it began to close, I felt that I had an album that I couldn't play with The Stooges and it certainly wasn't the kind of stuff that you could play with Green Day or Sum 41, and you couldn't run it by a major U.S. record company.

Paste: But you eventually sold it to EMI France.

Pop: Yeah. Initially, I started sending tracks via the Internet from my house in Miami to Hal Cragin in Woodstock, N.Y., and he would cut the tracks for me. In my own time, and my privacy, I worked on it. As time went on, I began to trust him; there was no record company involved yet. He kept sending me unsolicited tracks, for almost a year. It was a nice, easy process and then we had it!

Paste: Many of the tracks are in French. How long did you spend writing the lyrics?

Pop: Well, I have to confess. Good lyrics take 15 minutes or less. Any longer, it’s probably shitty. Up to that point where you can have a good 15 minutes can take a good deal of thought and then, after you fine tune, each song takes 15 minutes most of the time.

Paste: But the album is so different than the punk records. I would think you would not only slow down the tempo, but spend more time on each tune.

Pop: The album is supposed to be coming out of a tradition of guys like James Brown, Jackie Wilson, Otis Redding, black R&B from the '50s and '60s and the rockabilly guys. It is unlike anything else I did.

Paste: When you perform live, you typically only play 15 minute sets, why is that?

Pop: Well, I have rarely been able to stand an hour; I never enjoyed any longer. It was better when it was rock 'n' roll and short. Now it's rock and it's long and it reminds me of a tuna melt. [laughs]

Paste: What do you mean?

Pop: Hmm, I guess that's a grotesque image. I picture a tuna melt with double cheese. That’s a horrible image. God, I haven't had a tuna melt in years; they aren't around anymore. What I mean is that it's just too much for me, these days.

Paste: So do you still enjoy playing live?

Pop: I don't enjoy live shows anymore This year, I have been out quite a bit and I decided it was best to pull back a bit. I just did a television show in Paris. I will play the angel of death in a film in Germany this summer.

Paste: Do you feel like you have to live up to a stage persona?

Pop: That’s interesting, Well, I am not [Marilyn] Manson.

Paste: Thankfully.

Pop: For some reason, there is a lot of conscious theatricality that is expected on stage. "Okay, bring out the confetti." Stuff you see in an Alice Cooper show. For me, it's exploratory rock 'n' roll.

Paste: What do you want your fans to take from the album?

Pop: The album was inspired by The Possibility Of An Island, and again, the book was great for me, maybe others will like it. It might help people out. It’s not the only good book ever written, but it’s a damn good read and it's funny.

Paste: So, I'm curious, you lived in the East Village.

Pop: In 1985 I was there, and I remember the big guy with the liquor store and the big dog, south side of Tompkins Square Park—you know?

Paste: I can’t say that I do; the neighborhood has changed…

Pop: Oh well. Anyway, the dog looked at you with an expression like, "fuck you."

Paste: They don't allow those kinds of vulgar dogs in the park anymore.

Pop: Yeah, but you can get good borscht still in the area. Oh, the candy store on Avenue A—I love chocolate egg creams. Damn, I don’t know how I even remembered that place.

Paste: Well, you should consider playing in the East Village, if not for the loath of performing, to get yourself an East-Village tuna melt.

Pop: Yes!