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It wasn’t the vocals or the lyrics that really caught me.  It was that riff coming out of the left speaker, then the sleigh bells on the right.  G, F#, E.  Dissonant, relentless with that unmistakable guitar tone and the insidious goof-ball solo that was all about what would become the name of a disastrous later album – Raw Power.  Two guys propel I Wanna Be Your Dog, the Asheton brothers.

Every show I’ve played in this millennium has included a cover of I Wanna Be Your Dog (Hell, I haven’t bought a guitar that didn’t drone G, F#, E as it’s first chords in my hands).  That started as an homage to my friend and mentor, Alejandro Escovedo (who would probably kill me for calling him a mentor).  The tradition gained a sense of urgency and reverence when Al collapsed and nearly died after a show in Phoenix in 2003.  And covering the song took on a new sense of rapture after Al returned to the stage in 2006.  But covering “Dog” wasn’t all just about Al.  Sometimes, you just can’t shake a great hook.

Ron Asheton

For me, Ron Asheton’s guitar playing always had this gorgeous blend of slop and accuracy – I call it the ever-important tension between abandon and unity.  Ron created this tension in every song.  In short, his playing was the living embodiment of the rock-n-roll convention of “living on the edge.”  Countless guitar players copped his approach.  Some even pulled it off, (Johnny Thunders, Bob Stinson, and a few others come to mind).  

Ron Asheton and the Stooges arguably gave rise to more authentic rock bands than any other guitar player/band combination.  It’s largely because Ron Asheton wrote recklessly gorgeous guitar parts paired perfectly with Iggy’s delivery.  For most of us The Stooges are the embodiment of everything good about punk and eventually everything too many indie rock bands never learned or forgot.

The Stooges

Though Madonna did her part, Ron Asheton lay dead  in his home for days never having been inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Assholes . . . er . . . excuse me, “Fame.”  An indignity those of us not in the Stooges might consider absolutely insufferable, but one I’m pretty sure  Asheton shrugged off and would find completely appropriate.  After all, what fame did the world of mainstream music ever heap on the Stooges that wasn’t brought to them through a TV commercial?  And what more did Ron ever want besides to play?

There’s really nothing much more I can say about Ron Asheton, except, well, So messed up, I want ya here.  

Note to band-mates:  don’t expect to stop covering this song any time soon.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, January 6th, 2009 at 4:31 pm and is filed under heros, people, players, songs. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.