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Notorious I.G.G.Y takes a hard look into the abyss

With his trademark roiling rock, the punk hero reunites with his band to take a look into the abyss.

Dominic Favre/AP

Ready to Die
Iggy and the Stooges
Fat Possum

First David Bowie releases an album and now comes something from Iggy Pop. A certain fandom feels like it has died and gone to old Berlin.

Ready to Die is from Iggy and the Stooges, the punk-rock assaulters from the 1970s who released a reunion album in 2007 (The Weirdness, which underwhelmed). Guitarist Ron Asheton and drumming brother Scott were on board then, as was bassist Mike Watt. Ron has since died. Stepping in for him is the returning James Williamson, whose contorted guitar work was front and centre on 1973's Raw Power, the Stooges' disquieting proto-punk howl, produced by Bowie.

On the title track to Raw Power, Iggy implored his followers to "dance to the beat of the living dead." Remember that Iggy was famously described by rock critic Lester Bangs as a person who felt so "profoundly unalive" (or, conversely "rawly alive") so as to be imprisoned by it, with all feeling perceived as pain.

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Now Iggy is 66 years old, with a gut-punching but often reflective and droll album called Ready to Die. And maybe he is.

Opening salvo Burn chugs and pounds, led by Iggy's baritone intone. The world is aflame and the man of the future is a "bullying bruiser." This is apocalyptic, but Iggy questions whether he should even care. He's a laughing old man bowing out, with no plans to lead or fight on – "the spectre of duty is odious to me."

The title track riffs-and-rolls in crunchy glam fashion. Iggy's skin is lonely and wearing thin, and he's "shootin' for the sky, because I'm ready to die." Fire all of your guns at once and explode into space, that kind of thing. Why hold back now.

But, say hey, let's not assemble the pallbearers just yet. There are two things worth living for, according to the roaring Sex and Money. And to emphasize the point, the Motown-bouncy saxophone-happy romp of DD's is a sophomoric salute to full sweaters.

The album closes with rocking-chair thoughts from the onetime "streetwalkin' cheetah with a heart full of napalm." The Departed is bluesy, languid and existential – "where is the life we started?"

On Beat That Guy, Iggy sighs that he is out of space, time and reasons. Still, there's a spark, if not a lust for life: "Can't think about slinking off in the dark." So, maybe's he not going anywhere just yet. And maybe it is true that we're never more alive than when we're ready to die.


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  • Don't Get Too Grand
  • Donovan Woods
  • Aporia

When this Canadian songwriter sings "I was in the coldest state," it doesn't mean he's ever visited Minnesota or North Dakota or anything like that. His music has a warm chill to it; his stories, offered with a gentle earnestness and a weathered voice, are compelling. He works within a quiet but unshakable acoustic-guitar groove, with some electronic ambience and occasional piano touches. At times he recalls other sensitive folksy types: Dallas Green, Ray LaMontagne, Damien Rice and one of either Seals or Croft. - Brad Wheeler


  • Bankrupt!
  • Phoenix
  • Glassnote/Universal

The new LP from the French foursome is its fifth, though it seems like it second, given the breakthrough quality of its previous album, 2009's Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix. This record is foxy, vintage and tapered from the top, starting with the power-pop gallop of Entertainment and ending with the kitchy fizz and retro drum-fills of Oblique City. I hear a shinier Strokes and a synth-happy Stone Temple Pilots, along with sardonic references to Coca-Cola, cruise ships and unfashionable cologne. Smells like a hit. - Brad Wheeler


  • Brooklyn Babylon
  • Darcy James Argue’s Secret Society
  • New Amsterdam

Composing for big band is a bit like being a playwright, in that no matter how brilliant your ideas may be, it's the performance the audience remembers. Luckily for him, Darcy James Argue has one hell of a troupe in his Secret Society. Brooklyn Babylon is the sort of work that would test the abilities of any ensemble. But Argue's deft hand with texture and rhythm but provides the perfect undergirding for a spectacular cast of soloists. - J.D. Considine

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  • Antonin Dvorak: Quartet No. 12, op. 96, “American;” Bedrich Smetana: Quartet No. 1 in E minor, “From My Life”
  • Tokyo String Quartet
  • Harmonia Mundi

When the Tokyo String Quartet disbands in June we will miss its ability to transform a common phrase into a gesture so nuanced and ephemeral that we scarcely recognize its pedestrian origins– a function of blend, unanimity, rhythmic elasticity and the TSQ's opalescent sound. Recorded in 2006, its final CD was surely not conceived as a swan song, even if the choice of Smetana's autobiographical first quartet suggests that it was, but there is certainly an aura of nostalgia in these interpretations. - Elissa Poole

A concert by Iggy and the Stooges will be streamed live from New York, April 28, 5 p.m., at

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