Knocking 'Em Down in the City Alvin Gibbs's tale of life on the road with Iggy
by Chris Parcellin
In the sleazy, fly-by-night world of rock'n'roll there are many pretenders to the throne, but few true legends. And in that select group of larger than life icons, few can lay claim to having made a deeper impact than one Iggy Pop (a.k.a. James Osterberg). His groundbreaking work as frontman for the explosive Stooges from the late 1960s through the mid-'70s, as well as his later solo albums (including collaborations with David Bowie) challenged the established ideas of how a rock band could look, sound and behave.

By the time Iggy recorded "Instinct" in the late '80s, the L.A. glam metal scene had taken the music biz by storm, and the album's sound perhaps reflected Iggy's desire to fit in commercially after a series of poorly received albums. For the subsequent tour, Iggy assembled a band of seasoned pro's--including former UK Subs bassist Alvin Gibbs and the eccentric ex-Hanoi Rocks guitarist, Andy McCoy. Many months of touring followed in the U.S. and abroad--and while Gibbs indulged in the offstage debauchery, he obviously also observed the goings on around him with a keen eye and ear. The result was "Neighborhood Threat: On Tour With Iggy Pop" a compulsively readable first-hand account of a major rock tour with none of the dirt excised for the faint of heart.

"Neighborhood Threat" unflinchingly captures Iggy at his best and at his worst: onstage, backstage and out on the town. Gibbs also took care to document the real life "Jim Osterberg" side of Iggy, providing a more fully-fleshed portrait of this rock immortal than any other writer. In addition, Gibbs delves into the excesses of ex-bandmate Andy McCoy whose personal demons may have cost him opportunities at greater glory.

What inspired you to write about your experiences of touring with Iggy Pop?
Three considerations led to me writing Neighbourhood Threat … First, seven months spent touring the world in the company of Iggy Pop seemed to me a necessarily worthy and entertaining subject for a book. Second, the band I was playing bass guitar for at the time, Cheap And Nasty, had just folded in a spin of recriminations. After half a decade of touring and recording our singer, ex-Hanoi Rocks guitarist Nasty Suicide, decided to split from his wife and the band that carried half his name to shack up with a woman in Tokyo. He'd given no warning and his timing was impeccable. We were just about to collect an advance to record our third album and embark on another lucrative series of gigs in Japan. His unscheduled departure meant I became effectively unemployed, without severance. It also meant I'd acquired the time to write. Third, my marriage was falling apart. The constant separations for touring, perceived infidelities false and real, the financial strain of abruptly losing my income led to open hostilities with my former wife. I left. Took to drink as an anaesthetic. After a couple of months of being absent from myself I pulled out of the alcoholic tailspin to consider my options. I needed a project, a process to occupy my days and keep me off the liquid cosh. As I'd been consuming booze in the manner and quantities of an Ernest Hemingway, a Charles Bukowski, a Hunter S. Thompson. I decided I would also emulate them in writing a book.

Had you done much writing prior to that?
I'd contributed lyrics as well as music to over a dozen albums plus a handful of articles and reviews to various punk fanzines and music publications, but something approximating the length and amplitude of a book before Threat, no. I was a novice, and every time I have call to reread it the more I realise just how much of a novice I was, and how much of a novice I remain.

How did you get the gig playing for Iggy?
The certainty of chance. Andy McCoy had been the lead guitarist for the Finish rock band Hanoi Rocks. We'd become friends when my then band the UK Subs had headlined a series of Scandinavian shows in 1980 with Hanoi as our support act. In the early 1980s Andy and Hanoi relocated to London and the friendship resumed. All was fine until Hanoi started to achieve some success. Suddenly Andy's natural arrogance went into overdrive. He was fine with me, he knew better-I'd punched him out the one and only time he'd tried an imperious number on me-but that didn't prevent him from treating just about everyone else around him like a serf or servant. His boorish, insolent manner wasn't exactly helped by a heavy intake of opiates. It made me uncomfortable and it ate into the fibre of our fellowship. In the mid-1980s I'd left the UK Subs, left London, moved to America. First San Francisco, then Los Angeles. Months before departing I'd terminated my relations with Andy. He'd become a hardened junky. I detested the fucking drug and decided I wanted nothing more to do with him. In LA I formed my own band and played the clubs and bars of Hollywood and greater southern California. Things were going good. A major record company offered us a deal. Then someone told me Andy was in town. I heard stories of his having pawned off the possessions of various friends he'd been staying with. I told people 'under no circumstances give him my 'phone number.' It didn't work. I got an early morning call. He told me he had become Iggy Pop's lead guitarist; he told me he had given up junk; he asked if I was interested in being Iggy's bass guitarist for a world tour. This was not a difficult decision. For me, Iggy is the seminal figure in rock music. I said 'come round.' He looked healthy and obviously off the brown. He didn't ask for money and managed to remain conscious during our entire conversation. That afternoon I met Iggy. We talked at length. He asked me to join his band. I said, 'yes.'

How did Iggy differ from what you expected?
Physically, he was pretty much as I expected. But I was surprised by how mentally sharp he was. I'd thought all the liquor and drugs would have taken a greater toll on his synapses. He was very articulate, knowledgeable and well read. One the most intelligent people I have met in my life.

What was your relationship like with him? Was he down-to-earth?
I know Iggy as Jim. Jim Osterberg is the man off stage. Iggy Pop is the man Jim becomes in order to perform. As Jim, he's very easy to get on with. On most nights, post show, the band, would join him for dinner at a good restaurant or at the hotel. Over food and wine we would converse about a range of subjects and the atmosphere was always genial and friendly. Andy and I would also hang out in his hotel room to work on new intros or ending to certain songs in the set. He was always appreciative of our input. On our rare days off, he would ask me if I'd like to join him and his wife to go see a movie or visit an art gallery or checkout a rock show in town. He was a fine companion. Onstage, things were somewhat different. As Iggy, he was much more combative and dangerous to know. I quickly realised this was integral part of the Iggy persona and I played to it rather than become intimidated or accusatory. He liked that. We had a pretty good relationship.

There was a fair amount of hedonism during your time in the band, right? Was Iggy involved in much of that?
Yeah, there was undeniably a lot of drinking, fucking and drugs. At one end there was Andy McCoy, a man who considered it a matter of honour to bed more women, consume more liquor, snort, swallow, smoke and infuse more chemicals than any other member of the touring party. Swinging like a pendulum in the middle was the remainder of the band, myself included. And at the other end, Iggy, who had done it all and had come to the realisation that habitual inordinate intoxication, was not conducive to a steady career. He was moderate in his drinking and drugs-a couple of glasses of wine, an occasional joint-apart from one notable occasion in Miami when he partook in a cocaine fest at a Cuban club … Read the book for details!

Andy McCoy has a very wild public persona. But he's also a great guitarist and songwriter. What's your take on him?
Andy can be a most charming and considerate man when the mood takes him. He can also be the biggest boor and nastiest piece of work on five continents. He's a fine guitarist and composer, though he can be somewhat over indulgent musically for my tastes. Where one good intro riff would suffice he will insists on utilising half a dozen. He is naturally excessive … musically, in dress, drink and, of course, drugs. He is actually a very insecure person and this drives his excesses and the need to diminish those he considers lesser people. Despite all that, I can't help but really like the guy. He has been a very true friend to me. It just that I wish he would mellow out and treat other people with greater respect.

Iggy seems like a pretty tough boss, yelling at band members on stage. How did you feel about his motivational tactics?
It's all part of the Iggy-Jim syndrome. Once you get to understand that it's not a problem at all. I quite liked it when he would come tearing up to me on stage to scream in my face 'play you rock 'n' roll fucker, play!' His twirling mike stand routine was the only real potential danger. Iggy likes to twirl and throw the metal stand about. Andy, Seamus and myself came close to being decapitated on numerous occasions. Eventually you get wise to it all and learn to anticipate and take evasive action when Iggy and his dreaded stand gets in decapitation range.

What did make of Iggy's interaction with Bowie?
At first he seemed a lot cooler to his friend than I had anticipated. He was sure Bowie was going to be critical of his new look (longer hair, leather and ripped jeans) and musical direction (metallic crossover). But after a little time together backstage they grew comfortable. Iggy's insecurities diminished and the depth of their affection for each other became apparent.

There's a great moment where Iggy supplies a running diatribe against the giant Pepsi Cola backdrop at one of the shows. Did you feel he was sincere?
Yes, undoubtedly. Iggy hated the way the Pepsi weasels had hijacked the event. Mr. Pop has never been comfortable with corporate involvement in rock music. This was the worse example of that. None of the Pepsi sponsorship money went directly to him anyway (the event promoter pocketed all the cola cash) and even if it had been offered Iggy would have refused on general principles. As far as he was concerned, having to play under the Pepsi banner and those hideous giant soda cans was a gross humiliation. Having destroyed these and derided the product at every given opportunity we then received a threat from the Pepsi lawyers-if the same occurred the following day, legal recourse to damages would be forthcoming. It was a close run thing but Iggy just managed to restrain himself from doing an encore of his Jesus-among-the-moneylenders-in-the-temple tribute twenty-four hours later.

I thought Andy McCoy would've made a great song-writing partner for Iggy. Any idea why those two didn't continue working together?
Well, I know Iggy was up for the idea. I think Andy finds it difficult to write songs for anyone other than himself because of those deep insecurities I mentioned earlier. He'd tried this once before with Alice Cooper and it had proved an utter disaster. Andy and I ran into Cooper during one of the Iggy USA tours. When Andy had left the room I asked him why no songs had actually emerged from their union. Alice rolled his eyes and started to list a catalogue of horrors-Andy disappearing for days on end, Andy being too high or hung over to work, Andy making excuses for his lack of creativity. It became obvious to Alice that Andy didn't want to present him with anything because he was afraid of possible criticism and fearful of not meeting the high expectations of Cooper and his record company. I think the same applied to the tenable collaboration with Iggy.

What did you learn from working with Iggy?
Many things. How to merge professionalism with passion; the value of good French wine over indifferent; the books of Carlos Castaneda; how to work a room full of strangers; where the finest restaurants in Europe are situated; how to get the best out of your collaborators … I could go on like this for some time.

Would you do it again?
In a hot moment.

Has Iggy commented to you on the book?
Yeah, I got my publishers to send him a copy immediately it went into print in 1995. He sent a fax to back saying 'at first I though, oh no, not another fucking stitch up. But then I read it, and liked it. It's funny and cool. Tell Alvin I dig it,' or words to that effect.

Do you have any more books in the works?
I followed up "Neighborhood Threat" with a personal history of punk rock written in 1996 titled Destroy, also initially printed by Britannia Press. I'm talking to Codex about reworking and reprinting it in the near future. I'm also writing a novel set in the 18th century, which centres on the life of a fictional rake who becomes a founding member of the infamous Hellfire Club. Last year I completed a film script, which has been picked up by an American production company and is doing the rounds in Hollywood. This also has a historical theme.


Are you in a band currently?
No. For a while I did some recording and touring with my old punk outfit the UK Subs, but my concern now is to work towards becoming a decent writer. Still, if anyone out there has an attractive proposition I may still be persuaded to pick up my trusty Gibson Thunderbird one more time.
© 2002 Chris Parcellin & D-Filed, All rights reserved.