Today's Adventure?

2:55am: Part 7.1 - Double Danger - Latin Casino, Baltimore 11/73
The Iguana Chronicles

Part 7.1 - Double Danger - Latin Casino, Baltimore 11/73

Ok.... i put the headphones on for this one.... just ran around all day watching the ladies.... now here i am... typing more crap atcha..... is this crap? nope... the whole goddamn set of essays is the most brilliant piece of work that ever was.... Double Danger is one of those grungy background for a breakdown cd's that everyone wishes they had on hand..... you see... you've paid your admission.... you've heard the hype.... and now.... here you are at a stooges concert... and iggy's a drunken sot up on stage doin' his thing..... hammered with every drug known to man and god..... and the only thing in his head is... why isn't the music fast enough.... you see.... ig was tooled for the punk generation.... blazing fast guitars.... and the only way he could keep up with the sounds in his head was to have hammerin' pianos... blazing hippie guitars and a set of drums pounding..... he didn't know what was comin'... his idea of a hard band was KISS.... not that kiss isn't a wall of thunder in itself... but compare kiss to x and you've got it.... blitzkrieg fast music to get loaded to... versus music for loadies.

Now... ig's all broken up that his thang with bowie didn't take off right off the bat.... he got to meet the bloke... but he didn't get to meat him... if yah know what i'm saying... but... some bitches like to play hard to get.... bowie did..... iggy was going to have to go to fuckin' germany to get with the bowienator.... and to do so... he had to earn a little bit of cash along the way.... so here he was.... not wasted.... not loaded with groupies.... just fuckin' kinda buzzed and in a mean mood.... cuz he was gettin' ready to fuck david bowie in the butt for like 10 years.... head on? filled with the grudgefuckiness (is that a word? it'd make a great t-shirt word for japanese schoolgirls) and the piano and drums and everything are hammering away... pretending it's the good old days when iggy didn't have an ego and was just a big ole fuckin' idmonster pallin' with his buds.... now? he's more like if jim morrison was into a heavy metal thing and didn't know how to keep his dick in his pants. That paints a pretty ugly picture..... so let me give you a confidential cia debriefing..... Iggy stopped being a racist about 1973..... it was costing him boot...... and he knew that the indian and black and mexican and hebrew girls he'd get for NOT being racist would blow the tweaked out wp pussy away..... so... he still spewed some shit... but he got deep up the ass of some racist wp bastards and his fbi/cia/nsa/dea/batf tails (of which he'd had millions since detroit when he singlehandedly monopolized his neighborhood's drug deals with marijuana he bought with lawnmowing money) sure... i can sell you a joint fer a buck... led to ok... you want an ounce... that'll be twenny bucks.... and the feds showed up.... and so iggy had to hide out in rock and roll.... it was like a narcotic witness protection program... where the druglords of detroit kept iggy running from town to town so he wouldn't get bored and narc them off.... but the feds kept following him... from town to town... hoping that in the middle of one of his sexual marathons he'd give away the name of Bigguns D. Rambozo... the drug kingpin of the southside who was dealin' drugs from his mommy's stroller.... yup... the baby crimelord of corktown. he used to cut the shit with his formula.... nobody knew that the shit he was swillin' from the bottle was one hundred and fifty percent uncut china white mixed with a little bit of milk so he wouldn't get colicky.

Now... back to ig.... he's all singin' gimme danger..... his love song to BD Rambozo.... little stranger... gimme danger.... he didn't need to be protected... he didn't need groupies surrounding him every minute to make sure he didn't squeal... he needed bowie's ass... to sink his manmeat into and go... i'm ziggyiggy... iggyziggy... ziggyiggy... iggyziggy.... ziggyiggy... iggyziggy... oooh yeah... ooh yeah.....

now onto led zeppelin.... those buttfuckers were running all over the u.s. givin' iggy's girls the clap. he'd had more shots of penicillin then the average korean war vet.... he was all ready to swell up like a mushroom from all the fungal byproducts injected into him.... and iggy was hot for them.... but with the laid back guys in his band (pussies...) he needed some muscle or bonham would tie him down and robert plant would spend a weekend slapping his dick in ig's face....

that's where kiss comes in.... iggy had to get away from his lounge act for a minute... he had his chops.... and knew where while up the line (timecorp lingo) he'd be doin' a lounge album or two.... he had to put his detroit metal head back on so that when he met kiss they'd pal around with him for a weekend for some zepp stompin.... that's where iggy was at on 11/?/1973. Ready to stomp the shit out of led zeppelin for giving him syphillis.

end rant 7.1. part 7.2? Double Danger - NYC Academy of Music 12/31/1973... and the KISS thang.

5:33am: the bow of heaven is just right these days.... (found this old topic... appropriate here)
A real time odyssey into iggy's world circa 1970ish.

The Iguana Chronicles

part 7.2 - Double Danger - NYC Academy of Music 12/31/1973

Light up some incense ya'll.... cuz this is the hippie review you've all been waiting for.... can you say.... double album? i knew you could.

IGGY AND KISS ARE GOING TO BEAT UP LED ZEPPELIN!
IGGY AND KISS ARE GOING TO BEAT UP LED ZEPPELIN! That's what should be going through your head right now.... that's my neener neener neener to the rock critics of the world... cuz nobody! and i mean NOBODY! Not lester 'romilar' bangs, not lenny 'meff' kaye, not patty 'i wuv the trees' smith, not
that stinking asshole bob 'white power's half indian bitch' matheu, not dogshit eatin' christgau.... and especially not fucking jann 'pussy yuppie' wenner, could ever put KISS and iggy beatin' up led zeppelin into a single sentence. They are more concerned with this album has a series of tunes by the igster that in critical parlance are actually the spinoffs of bob wills sucking john lee hooker's dick.

So.... iggy is rockin' hard.... cuz he has just cut a deal with the boys from KISS... all he has to do... is slip them a couple groupies for the trip... and after this new year's eve show.... they'll all fly across the atlantic to BEAT THE LIVING SNOT OUTTA LED ZEPPELIN. Iggy has been gettin' syph from jimmy page's groupie pool..... and HE'S PISSED OFF AS ALL FUCK! Here's what happened to save your asses a bunch of worry and wonder and listening to me blabber while the drugs take effect. They do it... they fly across the channel.... BAP! robert plant get's knocked out with one shot from gene simmon's tongue.... peter criss and paul stanley take on bonham.... he puts up a fight.... but they got INTERSTELLAR FUCKIN' POWERS.... and he's had a few too many boilermakers..... one shot to the chest and then they sit on him and fart for like FIFTEEN FUCKING MINUTES.... john paul jones and paul stanley square off.... screaming bitch epithets at each other until paul gets pissed off and sticks his sparkler up jp's butt.... then he cops a tude and walks out on the whole deal ... sparkler flaring... jp thinking... man... they said they were bringin' some coke-caine... and the main event.

Iggy and Jimmy Page.... Jimmy's all quakin' in his snakeskin boots.... goin.... i promise igster... i'll use a condom next time.... i promise.... pleazzze don't beat me up..... iggy smiles.... straps the tubing around his arm.... shoots up the blue velvet laced Nixon and with the tubing still strapped about his arm loosely... starts swinging on page's head..... page ducks... bobs, weaves... and hides behind the fart reekin' bonham and kiss's version of the muscle shoals rhythm session giggling and passing a joint back and forth as they continue to flatulate all over the unconscious bonham. Iggy sees him hidin' (I SAW YA) and pulls his panties uptight.... cruises for a bruisin... only not his.... and while jimmy page tries to load his bow into the double string guitar to shoot at iggy.... iggy kicks a high flyin' field goal kick to his face smashing his pretty face (until the nights plastic surgery at londonderry hospital) to all hell.

Now.... i bet you want to know about the album.... I'm not going to tell you.... I'm just going to give you the list of songs they played... they... being the stooges. 1. Raw Power, 2. Rich Bitch, 3. Wet My Bed, 4. I Got Nothing, 5. Cock in my pocket, 6. Search & Destroy, 7. Gimme Danger, 8. Heavy Liquid.

The two cd's in this album (here starts my rant about cd's and lp's not being synonymous with album but merely the medium upon which albums are recorded) Ok.... now if someone told you... they just got led zeppelin's new album on 8 track....
would they be using imprecise language? i'd say not.... If they'd said I just got their new RECORD on 8-track... that would be a grammatical error.... but album is a term that goes back to the 78-rpm days... when a series of 78-rpm records would be in a package called an album... like a photo album.... the entire musical piece including liner notes and enclosed booklets was an album.... In the seventies... the album rock format took over... and the stupid fucking dj's (can you say guys named chuck that nobody could shut up in class ended up becoming djs so the psychic manipulating teachers could get them to drop out halfway through school) started thinking album's were lp's. I have a number of albums on cd... i also have albums on cassette... albums on lp... and even a couple of albums in mp3 format (plug for mike watt's fantastic 'corndogs.org' site of minutemen and mike watt stuff)...

ok... that said... this double-cd album (guys like mitch miller and dj's loaded up on coke started calling double-lp albums double-albums cuz they couldn't manage 3 term linguistic elements) is one of the best pieces that i ever listened to while huffing incense.

BEAT THAT YOU GODDAMN PUSSY ASS FUTURE ROCK CRITICS.

setting the standard in literature AND rock criticism for 5 years running!

Kevin Anderson


end rant 7.2. part 8? Kill City and how iggy's dreams were fulfilled and he went back to load up on scopolamine at the feeb factory.