Every good rock'n'roller knows the best music has a bit of mystery to it. So when Iggy Pop unexpectedly announced the arrival of his first solo effort in four years in a surprise New York Times article and on The Late Show with Stephen Colbert this past January — and that the album had already been completed, was self-financed in secret and recorded and co-written by Queens of the Stone Age's Josh Homme — not only did the 68-year-old proto punk icon prove he still had a few tricks up his sleeve, but that he has impeccable taste and timing, as well.
Post Pop Depression comes mere months after the music world lost two of its most seemingly immortal figures (David Bowie and Lemmy Kilmister); it's an album rock'n'roll lovers didn't know they wanted, but no doubt need.
Rumoured to be his final album, Post Pop Depression doesn't find the famed singer going out with a bombastic bang (fans of the Stooges' raw power may find it lacks the oomph of their last album); instead, he reflects on his life, legacy and impending mortality (namely through the introspective "American Valhalla," with its haunting and mournful refrain "I've nothing but my name," and "Vulture"), with the help of Homme's distinctive, carnivalesque melodies and slithering riffs.
As per usual, every song Homme touches ends up being undeniably sexy, but it's unlikely you'll want to take it off and get it on, listening to it. Post Pop Depression isn't the sound of an acclaimed artist seamlessly slipping away, but a wild animal screaming with all his might into the night — perhaps, if he's to be believed, for the last time. Lust for life, indeed.
(Universal)Post Pop Depression comes mere months after the music world lost two of its most seemingly immortal figures (David Bowie and Lemmy Kilmister); it's an album rock'n'roll lovers didn't know they wanted, but no doubt need.
Rumoured to be his final album, Post Pop Depression doesn't find the famed singer going out with a bombastic bang (fans of the Stooges' raw power may find it lacks the oomph of their last album); instead, he reflects on his life, legacy and impending mortality (namely through the introspective "American Valhalla," with its haunting and mournful refrain "I've nothing but my name," and "Vulture"), with the help of Homme's distinctive, carnivalesque melodies and slithering riffs.
As per usual, every song Homme touches ends up being undeniably sexy, but it's unlikely you'll want to take it off and get it on, listening to it. Post Pop Depression isn't the sound of an acclaimed artist seamlessly slipping away, but a wild animal screaming with all his might into the night — perhaps, if he's to be believed, for the last time. Lust for life, indeed.
