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.