Iggy Pop writhed, twisted, and convulsed in his Spark Arena spectacle. Photo / Sylvie Whinray
The twisting, the convulsing (even with what I would imagine is unbearable scoliosis), the falling down on the stage and yelling like an animal, the surprisingly intact voice that didn’t sound a day older than the records – we were witnessing a spectacle that no other artist on the planet can give.
“F***ng thanks for showing up,” he says, his gravelly tone oozing warmth. The gig was originally scheduled to be outdoors in Whitianga, and thank goodness it wasn’t, because the Arena format just added to the magic. For one night only, we were in the garage of Iggy. In a space intimate enough to be able to see every smile, every sneer and tongue poke, and every gulp of water (about four bottles worth) that he downed.
Never did Iggy hide in his onstage world either. Every opportunity was used to eyeball the audience, or wave at them, or make a hilariously crass movement with the microphone towards them. Just a few years shy of 80, he even leapt down to the barrier and leaned on the crowd, a remarkable feat in itself, and a moment those in the front row will remember for a lifetime.
Iggy Pop is still a real wild one. Photo / Sylvie Whinray
The hits came thick and fast. The Passenger and Lust for Life were both early on in the set, but that didn’t matter. Faithful fans got all The Stooges hits, including I Wanna Be Your Dog (yes, he growled) and Search and Destroy, and there were a couple of covers thrown in there for good measure as well.
The mixed-age crowd was a delight. I often say that crowds make or break a gig, and this one was superb. Iggy knew this, so he even invited an absolute legend of a teen girl to come up and dance to Real Wild Child (Wild One). Naturally, she asked for a selfie, and Iggy happily obliged.
“You treated me great, I really appreciate it,” he beamed. “As f***d up as I am, I feel better than I did before I came out here”.
Credit should also go to both Kiwi legends Zed and “Godmother of Punk” Joan Jett and her Blackhearts. Jett was the perfect opener, infusing her rebellious punk spirit from the get-go and turning the sound dial up to 11. On that note, those attending the Wānaka concert would do best to remember some earplugs, as these acts would give AC/DC a run for their money when it comes to explosive audio.
Joan Jett and the Blackhearts were the perfect opening punk platter. Photo / Sylvie Whinray
Sure, Iggy’s music might not be everyone’s taste, but anyone sitting in that audience, no matter what they thought of the music, would be hard-pressed not to be blown away by the sheer power and aura of the man. Not many 78-year-olds, let alone 20-year-old, artists can do what he did.
Punk and rock and roll music was created to go against the grain, and to teach generations (and myself) to stand up, stand out, and, as Iggy so rightly puts it, have that lust for life when things haven’t gone to plan. Perhaps that’s why this performance will stick with me for a long time to come, and why I am now thinking how important it is that I have my own lust for life.
Tongues out for Iggy Pop. Photo / Sylvie Whinray
“I really gotta go now,” he sang during the final beats of Louie Louie, twisting into the abyss as the final guitar solo rang out. There was no encore, and there didn’t need to be. Iggy had come, saw, and conquered in a spectacular fashion.
Iggy Pop and Joan Jett and the Blackhearts will perform one final New Zealand show as part of the Greenstone Summer Concert Tour in Wānaka on Saturday.
Mitchell Hageman joined the Herald’s entertainment and lifestyle team in 2024. He previously worked as a multimedia journalist for Hawke’s Bay Today.
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