Whoa. Man. The first thing I read today -- literally, the first thing I read -- was "R.I.P. Ron Asheton." I called up Brian to tell him and he answered the phone: "NO FUCKING SHIT!" and then nothing. Our first band together, our first band, total damaged mutant teenage trash, lived in the ghost of "I Wanna Be Your Dog." We thought cover songs were impure but not, NOT now-i-wanna-be-your-dog-and-lose-my-heart-on-the-burning-sands.
We'd play it ourselves -- as loud as possible -- in my bedroom with no drums. We'd drive around Port Huron, flicking off old people, with "I Wanna Be Your Dog" booming through the brrroooooken speakers of a 1987 Mercury Tracer (a Port Huron car if ever there was one). Live, we muted the playing on the measures with vocals and ripped it wide open after each line. If Brian was ever a good frontman, it was certainly during that song, where he raged.
Once, we saw Sonic Youth and they brought Ron Asheton out to end the night with "I Wanna Be Your Dog." Who knows how long it went on. If felt like infinity. It was those three chords with one looooong blazing solo over top. We both went home with bruises. One of us lost a tooth.
You can hear a billion other bands in any solo on The Stooges. It's unreal. Cripes. Ron Asheton.
Tuesday, January 06, 2009
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1 comment:
This is really beautiful.
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