Thursday, 6 November 2025

Upon A Mouse #3: You Made Me Shiver With A Real Thrill

For this week's third and final final dip into 
The 20 Greatest Eponymous Albums Of All Time series, which originated at No Badger Required, my #18 pick is the debut album by The Stooges.

If that seems a bit harsh, you may be aggrieved to learn that The Stooges didn't even make the official NBR 20 Greatest Eponymous Albums Of All Time. Competition was stiff, to say the least.

In my case, The Stooges (the album) was an album I came to pretty late. And by late, I mean three and a half decades after it was first released. 

Being a mid-80s teen, I was aware of Iggy Pop, but I pretty much had no idea that he was in The Stooges until the end of decade, and then mainly because every guitar band plying their trade on the Bristol live circuit would play I Wanna Be Your Dog or No Fun. 


There was also the cover of 1969 by The Sisters Of Mercy on my brother's copy of the Alice 12" single, which wound it's way ontoone of my mixtapes around the same time.


So I didn’t get to listen to The Stooges’ debut album in full until 2005 when I bought the 2CD expanded edition, including the released version and original mixes, both produced by John Cale.


Whichever disc I listen to, what a fucking record. 


And then, in addition to the above mentioned songs, and amongst the scuzzy garage rock that inspired a slew of musical genres, the original Side One (track 3 of 8 on the CD) closes with the 10-minute tripped out, slowed down epic We Will Fall. Bonkers!


The second CD contains original or alternate versions of the entire album, bar We Will Fall, with a couple of versions apiece of the three big hitters. The standout for me though is Ann, expanded from the official album's three minutes to nearly eight, offering a different introduction and an extended squally guitar freakout to close. I like the brevity of the original, but this is something else.


I was very late to the party, but The Stooges retained the power to  thrill and inspire, more than three decades after the album emerged kicking and screaming into the world. Having listened to it again in the past month, it still does.


 

 

Today's completely unrelated movie snap off the telly is The Stepfather, a 1987 film starring Terry O'Quinn, who I am familiar with almost exclusively from his role as John Locke in the long-running TV series Lost

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