The Stooges: Fun House

I'm having difficulty concentrating on music this week, or on anything else.

Now I realise I'm quoting a little out of context here, but the words that jump out at me are about 3'20" into the title track, "Little baby girl, little baby boy / Cover me with loving in a bundle o' joy."

Because today is the day the Boy is/was due to make his entrance/exit. No definitive signs as I write (11.15am), but don't be surprised if things go quiet round here for a while. I'll be on paternity leave.

I can't say I naturally gravitated to The Stooges or that they'd be my soundtrack of choice for the arrival of our firstborn. I found my way using my head rather than my hips. At the start of this decade I read Please Kill Me (a gift from Tim) and Lester Bangs, both of which made The Stooges (along with The Velvet Underground) sound like some ur-text of rock. David Thomas often refers to them, along with the MC5 and The Beach Boys, in similar terms.

I'm not sure that this will be included when the day comes to compile a "My First Muxtape" playlist for the Boy (just kidding; I'm not really going to compile any playlists for him, ever — hold me to that — unless he asks me to). It grows on you, that's for sure, and I like Steve MacKay's very noisy sax on the tracks on 'Side 2'. But I'll never line up behind the celebrity fans that rate this as one of the best albums of all time.

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