Meanwhile the other two tunes, “Dum Dum Boys” and “Mass Production” are more epic and sinister. “Tiny Girls” is a short-ish, doo-wop sounding tale of hopeless love. The remaining three songs on the second side are vastly different in style and themes. Still, the theme remains up for interpretation. It has also been said that the song is written with the idea that women are fragile, like china dolls, thus lending the song its title. In another, he wails “ I’d stumble into town/Just like a sacred cow/Visions of swastikas in my head/And plans for everyone,” suggesting the power hungry leaders of the “free world” and the atrocities that they would later commit. In one line, Pop sings “ My little China girl/you shouldn’t mess with me/I’ll ruin everything you are” suggesting that Western culture would corrupt his innocent beauty. The true meaning is not so apparent, but the most likely is that it’s actually something of a combination between love and politics. Some say this song is about one of Pop’s own relationships, some say it’s about “china white” (cocaine), while others contend it’s about Western imperialism. As such, it is the superior version, giving a far more impassioned performance (the most impassioned of this entire album, in fact) which lends a much needed, if somewhat frightening, human side to the record. Iggy Pop’s version is more intense, more raw, and doesn’t feature the kitschy “Chinese” riffs that begin Bowie’s version. Side two opens with a song familiar to many, “China Girl.” Though it is most likely David Bowie’s decidedly glossier version from Let’s Dance that most have heard, and not this one. In a deep croon, Pop offers to his former beloved: “ We’re walking down the street of chance/ where the chance is always slim or none/ and the intentions unjust.” Just like he had done with his substance-abusing past, Pop was saying goodbye without regrets. Essentially a break-up song, Pop songs, again, with almost no emotion, sounding eerie and ghostly, thanks to a heavy dose of reverb on his voice. Side one closes with “Baby,” a song with a sound inevitably inspired by the atmosphere in Berlin, where the album was recorded. Pop’s delivery is thoroughly emotionless and mechanical, mimicking the coked-up club patrons he lampoons in the song: “ Nightclubbing/ we’re nightclubbing/ we walk like a ghost.” Pop mines similar lyrical content for the next song “Funtime,” one of the most punk-sounding tunes of the set. Then comes the slinky death romp of “Nightclubbing,” which was later featured in the film Trainspotting. I’m a damned man!”Īlbums rarely begin as disturbingly as The Idiot does with “Sister Midnight.” Cold and unsettling, “Midnight” is driven by a robotic, slightly funky riff (which later resurfaced on “ Red Money,” from Bowie’s Lodger) played by Carlos Alomar while Pop delivers a lyric telling of his Oedipal nightmares: As he said at the time of the release of The Idiot, “I’m not a punk anymore. The overblown Stooges sound wasn’t in the cards for Pop for some time. Instead, it’s a collection of dim visions and sinister melodies. With The Idiot, Iggy Pop forecasted anything but a bright future.

Think Bowie, mixed with Leonard Cohen and a touch of Peter Murphy, and you’re pretty close. Instead, under the tutelage of Bowie, Pop became a more sophisticated, yet decidedly more dark and disturbed rock singer.

Gone were James Williamson’s blazing guitar riffs and Pop’s shrieking banshee freak-outs. Pop was determined to start up his career in music again, and Bowie stood by him, co-writing songs and producing his “comeback” album, The Idiot.Ĭompared to Raw Power or Fun House, The Idiot is a decidedly more controlled, more subdued slice of Iggy. But thanks to good ol’ pal David Bowie, that all came to an end. Strung out and eventually self-committed to a mental institution, Pop nearly faded into obscurity, nearly becoming what Axl Rose would be today. But after the band broke up following the release of third album Raw Power, Pop (or “Jim,” I guess, whatever) had become something of a waste case. In the earlier half of the ’70s, Iggy Pop made a name for himself as the baddest of rock `n’ roll frontmen, creating pure bedlam and debauchery with his Detroit band of rock of derelicts, The Stooges.

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