Iggy Pop: Every Loser Album Review

Iggy Pop’s improbable survival has been part of his act for years—way back in 1996, Trainspotting found the punchline to a joke about the perennially bare-chested rocker in the fact that he was still very much alive. Today, the human being born James Newell Osterberg, Jr., age 75, remains uncommonly lithe and spry, with a million-dollar smile. But for much of the past decade, rock’s eternal real wild child has been slowly crowd-surfing his way into the sunset—he ended the last Stooges album with a pair of battle-scarred, soul-searching ballads and ventured deeper into existential reflection on 2016’s Post Pop Depression, while 2019’s Free suggested his periodic detours into after-hours jazz experimentation had become a more natural end state. All the while, Iggy has seemed perfectly content to ride out his golden years in his adopted home of Miami and play the role of punk-rock priest, handing out blessings to underground upstarts like Sleaford Mods and Chubby and the Gang through his BBC Radio 6 show. 

But as history has shown time and again, any assumptions of Iggy’s demise are premature, and with Every Loser, he tosses away the gold watch to reapply his dog collar. Like almost every Iggy Pop comeback album before it, Every Loser was created in close collaboration with a savvy big-name producer—though, unlike past compatriots like David Bowie, Bill Laswell, Don Was, and Josh Homme, this one resides far outside Iggy’s usual avant-rock milieu and age cohort. Andrew Watt won the 2021 Producer of the Year Grammy for his work with mega-stars like Justin Bieber, Miley Cyrus, and Ed Sheeran, but he’s a modern pop architect with a classic-rock heart: After helping Post Malone get in touch with his inner George Harrison, Watt has emerged as a Rick Rubin-like guru for veteran rockers (Eddie Vedder, Elton John, Ozzy Osbourne) in need of revitalization.

For Every Loser, Watt doesn’t try to turn Iggy Pop into something he’s not but rather gives him the space to be every Iggy Pop he wants to be. Over the course of its 11 tracks, we’re treated to a parade of iconic Iggy archetypes: the profane punk, the seedy underworld Sinatra, the Euro-bound futurist, the lovable curmudgeon, and (via the Warhol-inspired comedic interlude “The News for Andy”) the world’s coolest infomercial pitchman. Watt effectively approaches the album as an Iggy jukebox musical—a shiny, over-the-top, but briskly entertaining celebration of its subject—while surrounding him with a supporting cast of acolytes (including GNR’s Duff McKagan, Pearl Jam’s Stone Gossard, Jane’s Addiction’s Dave Navarro and Eric Avery, Red Hot Chili Peppers’ Chad Smith, and the late Taylor Hawkins) eager to do their hero proud.