For Slava’s recent birthday, I got us tix to see Iggy Pop at the Orpheum.
I hadn’t been to this storied hall since about 1990 or so. I saw Sinead O’Connor, The Replacements, and Siouxie and the Banshees there as a teenager (different bills, thank gawd).
It’s a beautiful, old timey venue, and we had nosebleed seats (upper balcony – shows are so expensive now! I probably paid $15 for Siouxie orchestra seats back in the olden days), but I was nervous about going, which I failed to tell Slava in advance. I really detest crowds, and crowds of testosterone are THE WORST. But Slava loves Iggy and we had never seen him.
After some meetup hijinks which stressed me out and ended with me borrowing the phone of a skeptical stranger to text Slava, we had dinner and drinks downtown with a friend who works there, and headed over to the show in time to miss the opening band and sit down in the ancient seats for a few minutes before the show started. A legit Iggy Pop look-alike told me he liked my coat, that it looked like stained glass (he’s right!), and I immediately calmed down and felt better. We weren’t completely surrounded by assholes!
I told a friend we were going to the show, and she said, “I wonder if he’ll take his shirt off,” which was, of course, the first thing he did. Actually, he wasn’t even wearing a shirt, just a jacket.
I gave Slava the aisle seat so he could see after everyone inevitably stood up. We’re both too short to not be in the front row. Since I couldn’t usually see, I was forced to look at the audience, including an idiot in a $500 shirt who was posing and videoing with his phone, using this American Horror Story creep as his point of fashion.
Eeew! I coudn’t look away. Plus his buddy was shirtless. Double yuck. Honestly guys, show some respect. I tried to stare at the (ornate) ceiling, but one can only do that for so long. But the real audience low-point was when some fool in our balcony tossed out a blow-up sex doll. Thanks for reminding us female audience members that we can be sexually assaulted at any point. That’s why we love crowds, after all. It’s not the heat and the stench, it’s the groping (ps did not get groped).
All that aside, the show was great. Almost all of the songs were from my fave album, Lust for Life, and my 3rd fave, The Idiot (both boast a lot of Bowie collaboration), which was an amazing surprise. I hadn’t read about the tour in advance. As if this wasn’t great enough, he sang the REPO MAN theme in the encore! Like he knew I was up there in the dark! Slava relinquished the aisle seat for that one, peach that he is.
Unfortunately, my old-timer buddies (remember the one who liked my coat?) got ejected during the encore because they were smoking dope…what is this world coming to?
I’m glad we went, but that is the last show of that size I’ll ever attend. I can hardly handle a crowd of 500! MIDDLE AGE!
My dad’s friend wrote a nice review of the show for a local paper. Dad and Bill used to work together at the Lynn Daily Evening Item. Dad calls Iggy “Iggy Poop,” by the way.