The Rolling Stone Interview: Iggy Pop

You are one of rock's premier icons of self-destruction. Do you feel any responsibility for those who died imitating your excesses, like Sid Vicious?
He was somebody who recognized destruction as a style, and I was one of many influences. I encountered him once, backstage at a Johnny Thunders gig. Sid was sitting with a beer in his hand, talking to somebody as normally as you and I are. In the split second when he saw me, he went [slumps down in his chair] -- that "I am totally stoned out of my mind and cannot communicate" pose.

I thought, "Oh, he spotted me." Or maybe the guy was just shy. A lot of people who get stoned -- they're just shy people. And there are people who hate what they are, who want to get rid of that part of themselves, to scrape it away. They look at me in certain periods, especially twenty years ago, as someone who did that -- who managed to be fucked up and . . . [Long pause]

Totally cool at it?
Yes. Then they live that out for themselves. But they can get something positive out of it, too. They get hope. People ask me for advice all the time, everything from "I'm going through a bad relationship" to "How do I get my art out there?" I get a lot of respect now. On airplanes, regular family folk now call me "Mr. Pop" -- with no irony. I like that.

Are there physical things you can't do onstage anymore?
[Points to the live "Raw Power"-era photo of himself on the front of his T-shirt] Can't do that! Can't bend over backwards and pick up an apple in my teeth. If I have to work two nights in a row, I'll jump real high on the first night. The second night, I'll get up about six inches.

I have a dislocated shoulder. I have a lot of cartilage lost in my right hip. Both knees are about to go. I have one leg about an inch and a half shorter than the other. When I was thirteen, I was run over by a big guy playing junior high football, and the right leg ended up a quarter-inch shorter. By my midtwenties, it was a half-inch. Then in the Eighties, I had no money and was taking packed economy flights everywhere, night after night. The combination of that schedule and a fall I took dancing on an amplifier left me with my spine twisted and a slight limp.

Aleve and tai chi brought me back. But as I began to lose unlimited use of my body, I had to start using my head. I'm a much more remarkable person mentally than physically.

Do you ever wonder how much longer you can be a Stooge?
I am working at what passes for full metal jacket for a guy of my vintage -- promoting, touring, running the band business, the whole fucking ball of wax. It's Ron Asheton's bloody fault [laughs]. We'd still be rehearsing if it was up to me. But he'd leave me these phone messages, usually between two and five in the morning: "Jim, you know when the commander tells the squad to take that hill? They just take it. They don't think about preparation. They just go, fast, now!" It's Pork Chop Hill for him.

I cannot keep it up forever. But I will work hard. These boys are hungry. And I owe them something. I was getting to a place in my career, before this hooked up, but I got here on their watch. My attitude is, I have the luxury and sanity to go out and see what happens. And when it begins to feel wrong in any way, then you withdraw.

Is that Jim talking -- or Iggy?
That's an interesting question. [Pauses, then grins] We do these things together. Because Iggy knows a lot of shit. One thing about Iggy -- he pays for Jim's life.

I'm saddled with a gigantic past to live up to, live down and generally live out. It has a humbling quality. It makes you realize, "Oh, I didn't always have this nice house." I wasn't always so shrewd. And it's not my favorite part of my life. I would rather be like a nice new penny that everybody loves [laughs]. But that is not my fate.

No, you are Mr. Pop.
And that's OK.

[From Issue 1024 — April 19, 2007]

>> Listen to exclusive audio from this interview.