Real Cool Time: The Life and Music of Ron Asheton, 1948-2009
January 7th, 2009 | 2:00 pm est |
Whenever folks talk about the Stooges, the first name mentioned is Iggy Pop, and not without reason — the man was and is arguably the greatest front man in rock and roll, and a spectacle that refuses to be ignored even today. But the real sonic foundation of the first two Stooges albums, The Stooges and Fun House, belongs to guitarist Ron Asheton, who created a sound that fully equaled Iggy’s vision. His primal guitar runs, howling like a glorious scream from the collective id that suggested two decades of teenage angst and delinquent cool given voice through a Fender Stratocaster and a Marshall amp, added bone and muscle mass to the moody blast of Iggy’s vocals. Asheton created a sound that easily matched rock’s most unshackled singer for sheer explosive impact and mutant soul. Iggy has made records with plenty of worthwhile musicians over the years, but listen to Fun House and it’s clear that Asheton is the only guitarist who was truly Iggy’s equal and not just an accompanist.
The Stooges were a band ahead of its time, and for many musicians that can be a thankless chore. It took rock and roll a few decades to catch up with what Ron Asheton was doing with the Stooges, but if fate was cruel in claiming his life at the age of 60 — he was found dead in his home in Ann Arbor, Michigan on Tuesday, January 6, 2009 — in his last years he finally began receiving the recognition and reward that he clearly deserved, touring the world with the reunited Stooges and receiving rapturous approval from fans at every stop.
Born in Washington D.C. on July 17, 1948, Ron Asheton spent most of his childhood in Ann Arbor and became a major rock and roll fan in his teens. Asheton and his friend Dave Alexander were big on the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, and the Pretty Things, and in 1965 they dropped out of high school so they could travel to England and check out the scene first hand. When Asheton returned to Michigan, he decided to form a band of his own, and did time with a handful of Ann Arbor area groups, including the Dirty Shames, the Chosen Few, and the Prime Movers. Asheton was playing bass for the Movers when he made friends with their drummer, an energetic kid named Jim Osterberg, and in 1967, after Osterberg returned from a sojourn in Chicago (where he claims he took lessons from legendary blues drummer Sam Lay, though Lay contends otherwise), they decided to form a band. Asheton would play guitar, Dave Alexander would play bass, Osterberg would sing, and Ron’s brother Scott Asheton would play drums. Osterberg adopted Iggy Pop as a stage name (partly acknowledging his stint in another local band, the Iguanas), and the quartet coined the moniker the Psychedelic Stooges. The rest, of course, is history.
However, while the Stooges would prove to be massively influential in the years to come, the band was regarded as little more than a freak show during their 1967 to 1973 life span. At a time when the vogue among “rock artists” was to buff off their rough edges and adopt a more sophisticated approach, the Stooges were reveling in the power of rock’s primitive instincts. The Stooges did not want to compose a rock opera, perform with a symphony orchestra or “get back to the land” – they wanted to be the loudest and wildest band on Earth, and their willingness to confront the audience (both in terms of music and Iggy’s performing style) polarized the few who heard them during their heyday. A small handful of fans embraced them as something brilliant and ground breaking, as Asheton’s guitar ripped through the melodies and Iggy’s antics burned their eyes, but most others fled in terror, and the band’s descent into drug-addled sloppiness after they were introduced to heroin during the recording of Fun House hardly helped. (Ron Asheton was the only Stooge to avoid heroin addiction, but that didn’t slow the band’s downward slide much, especially after he moved from guitar to bass shortly before the recording of Raw Power.)
After the Stooges finally fell apart in 1974, Asheton put together a group called the New Order (no relation to the post-Joy Division act from the UK) which also included late-period Stooges associates Scott Thurston and Jimmy Recca as well as MC5 drummer Dennis Thompson, but the band generated little interest, and after touring Australia in 1981 with the intentionally short-lived New Race — which featured Asheton and Thompson paired with Deniz Tek and Rob Younger of Radio Birdman, the Southern Hemisphere’s most devoted Stooges fans — Asheton’s work was primarily devoted to Michigan-based acts such as Destroy All Monsters, Dark Carnival, and Empty Set. Asheton also did a bit of acting in low-budget horror movies (most notably “Mosquito,” which occasionally pops up on the Sci-Fi Channel and also features members of the God Bullies and the Demolition Doll Rods in the cast) and helped local bands in the studio, but for the most part the man whose guitar work made The Stooges and Fun House into underground touchstones was pretty much ignored, except by a tiny cult which appreciated the precise chaos of his playing.
Thankfully, a few members of that cult started becoming famous. A new breed of noisy guitar wranglers who clearly worshiped at the altar of Fun House joined the hipster pantheon in the 1980’s and 90’s — Thurston Moore of Sonic Youth, J. Mascis of Dinosaur Jr., Mark Arm and Steve Turner of Mudhoney, and Kurt Cobain of Nirvana were just a few of the players who had clearly learned a trick or two from the thick, heavy throb of Asheton’s leads, and they weren’t shy about citing him as an influence (or covering old Stooges songs on stage). Just as Iggy Pop finally found a context in which his onstage persona made sense with the rise of punk, the onslaught of noise rock, grunge and “heavy alternative” gave birth to a new musical universe where Asheton’s complex simplicity seemed to fit right in. In 1998, when Thurston Moore and Mark Arm were hired to record some Stooges-like music for Todd Haynes’ film “Velvet Goldmine,” they logically concluded that Ron Asheton would be the ideal lead guitar player for their ad hoc band the Wylde Rattz, and Asheton expertly recreated his manic fretwork on “T.V. Eye” for the soundtrack album. (A full Wylde Rattz album was recorded, but legal woes have prevented its release.) In 2001, Asheton teamed up with Powertrane, a powerful Ann Arbor rock band fronted by former Rational and Sonic’s Rendezvous Band singer/guitarist Scott Morgan, for a show that also featured Deniz Tek; the gig led to two other concerts and a short tour which were manna from heaven for fans of Michigan-style rock, and each night Asheton closed out the show with vivid recreations of classic Stooges tunes. (One of those shows was recorded for an excellent live disc, Ann Arbor Revival Meeting.) And in 2002, J. Mascis brought Asheton along for a European tour; eventually Scott Asheton signed on too, and the band of semi-Stooges received rapturous reviews in the British press.
Iggy Pop took notice of this sudden revival of interest in the Stooges, and when he was lining up guest stars for his 2003 album Skull Ring, he proposed the idea of reuniting the Stooges for a few cuts. Pop’s record company was enthusiastic, and Ron and Scott Asheton recorded four new songs with Iggy for the album, with Ron handling both guitar and bass. The organizers of the annual Coachella Festival made the Stooges an tempting offer to play the event that year, and on April 27, 2003, Iggy, Ron Asheton and Scott Asheton took the stage (with bassist Mike Watt standing in for the late Dave Alexander) and played a set that amazed the crowd in attendance. The Coachella set was intended to be a one-off reunion, but it wasn’t long before the Stooges once again became a going concern; within a few months, they were headlining shows in the United States and playing major festivals around the world, and in 2007 they released an album of new material, The Weirdness. If the world wasn’t ready for the Stooges in 1967, they seemed up to speed with them in 2007, and though the group played with an ferocious energy that would tax men half their age and Asheton’s guitar work was every bit as strong as it had been in his youth, there was something moving and almost sweet about witnessing the revived band in concert, especially in Michigan – after decades of being rejected and ignored, the Stooges were finally welcomed as the pioneering heroes they truly were, and they were obviously grateful and delighted to be on stage, especially Ron. The band stayed busy through much of 2008, playing 28 shows between May and September, and two festival dates had already been announced for the group in 2009 before Asheton’s passing was discovered.
The scuttlebutt among fans had been that the Stooges were planning another studio album and a few more rounds of touring in support over the next few years, and it’s impossible to say what if any future the group has now — the concept of the Stooges without Ron Asheton seems inconceivable. But while this great band may have come to an sudden and unexpected end, the Stooges’ second act reconfirmed what was important about the band and their music, and Ron Asheton’s return to the spotlight not only affirmed his vital importance in the pantheon of rock and roll, but gave him the chance to enjoy the acclaim (and a few decent paychecks) that long should have been his due as one of the best and most powerful guitarists of his generation. Just this once, the nice guy didn’t finish last.






Nicely said, Mark.
Great write-up. My only quibble would be the statement that Asheton “moved from guitar to bass shortly before the recording of Raw Power.” “Please Kill Me” makes it pretty clear that Asheton was forced over by new band-member James Williamson. (Indeed, the Allmusic review of Raw Power implies as much.)
I’d heard that the reformed Stooges wouldn’t play any Raw Power tracks because of the lingering bad feelings, but I can’t confirm whether that’s true.
Amen, Mark. Well done.
Thanks Mark.
greatest front man in the histroy of rock n roll? iggy friggin pop?
i don’t think so.
in fact, he’s not in my top 100.
essentially, he’s a jackass on stage, a johnny rotten on coke.
how long has it been since iggy was relevant? how long was he relevant to begin with?
mick jagger, axl rose, david bowie, hell even alice cooper etc… all have more of a claim.
It met Ron during the deepest section of the abyss he descended into after the Stooges broke-down and he was just a memory.
The man was bummed people, one could feel it from a fourteen-foot distance.
It is so nice to hear that he got his “dots reconnected” before it was time for him to catch the flight out of here.
Carry On Rockin, Ron, thanks a BUNCH!
It irks me to no end to discover, in Ron’s passing, all of the Stooges’ song reviews by your own Dave Thompson. Thompson wrongly credits Mr. Asheton’s guitar work to bassist Dave Alexander. Could someone please correct this?
IGGY went WIGGY! Guitarist Summons SATAN..
these are the headlines on the Eternity Paper, pal.. you don’t know your ass from a kentucky fried chicken bucket.
Frank Snotra.
I really appreciate this nice tribute. Ron was an amazing guitarist; a true pioneer; his guitar playing annoys my co-workers; a true testament to how relevant Ashton’s playing is even to today.
However, it should be noted that the late Dave Alexander played a MAJOR part on the Stooges’ first two records — especially “Fun House.” Alexander has been glossed over too often in Stooges bios. The man’s bass was (in my mind’s eye) as awesome as Asheton’s guitar work on “Fun House.” Iggy got a lot from Alexander. He was the real McCoy.
As far as I know they did in fact play “Search & Destroy” off the Raw Power album on their last tour. I think Ron was reluctant to play guitar on tunes on which he had originally played bass, but in my recollection they cranked out “Search & Destroy” a few times. Thanks for everything Ron.
I appreciate your Ron Asheton obit, but I fear you give people the wrong impression of the band and their popularity in Detroit in the early days. First, a slight correction–James Osterberg first adopted the name “Iggy Stooge” before “Iggy Pop”–simply check the differing credits on the first two albums to verify this fact.
When I was growing up in Detroit, The Stooges were worshiped almost like a religion to rock’n'roll fans in the know–and with three free-form FM stations and a rather enlightened pop environment on AM radio, this was by no means a small cult. The fact of the matter was that Detroit music beyond Motown did not travel well across the country. It was true of almost all of the great Detroit bands at the time. And the locals followed and supported Detroit music fervently. Among the local bands, The Stooges and the MC5 were the elite and discussion of the Detroit music aesthetic could be found in our bible: “Creem Magazine”–especially through the writings of Dave Marsh and Lester Bangs. Rock’n'roll music, radio and writing were all a part of our musical culture. You really can’t mention early days of The Stooges without also mentioning in the same breath Creem Magazine.
Even after the demise of The Stooges, Iggy remained a revered figure on the Detroit music scene. As his career began to extend across decades, you would see begin to see parents and kids at his shows and even grandparents with their kids and their kid’s kids. And this wasn’t because he was a freak show–Alice Cooper was the freakshow. It was because every Stooges show was different–both in music and performance–they played no old songs in their original incarnation, only new songs and never an encore. A Stooges show would just randomly end and they would disappear offstage–performances unrivalled by any other band I have seen. You might say they were Detroit’s response to the Grateful Dead–the antichrist. And it wasn’t all Iggy back in those days, it was a band thing. The audience was left awestruck and jacked up.
The legend of The Stooges is also somewhat different than you describe above–it was always said at the time that they first got together and decided to form a band before really knowing how to play their instruments–and thus the music grew organically in the experience of playing together. They were the original DIY band that would inspire so many other bands who would follow that they could do the same. While this legend might not be exactly true, it was the one that sprung forth from the pages of Creem Magazine and what we all accepted as fact at the time.
While The Stooges may have technically began as a band in 1967, their heyday in Detroit was really more like 1969-73. They were preceded by others like Bob Seger and the MC5–but they were far and away the most extreme and intense. To describe the audience as being not ready for them in 1967, but ready in 2007 is getting the history terribly wrong, at least in terms of the the city of Detroit. Look to someone like Bob Seger as a local rock’n'roll hero who was forgotten after Mongrel in 1970 and then reemerge a half decade later with the enormous success of Live Bullet.
And while I like The Weirdness, it was utterly impossible recapture the magic of their first two recordings as those emerged from the entire Detroit rock’n'roll cultural scene. Sure music was a big part of that, but their were other parts that made The Stooges far larger than that. To us they were gods as they played music like it had never been played before–the most perfect expression of the spirit of our town.
I was there at the very end–Super 8 camera in hand–Iggy alone on stage after the rest of the band walked off, taunting the crowd to throw things at him before he too followed them.
One final thought–in those days, the worst gig any band could have is playing before The Stooges–the crowd would chant and boo incessantly to get them off the stage to more quickly bring on their heroes.
bravo mark. excellent words. on a lighter Detroit rock history note, the spam protection field is currently asking me what 2+2 is. I’m highly tempted to just enter a question mark.
Well said, thoughtful, informative and honest. We have lost an unsung icon of straight-ahead, no frills rock guitar. Asheton will be missed, but of course his legacy will never be forgotten and will be heard within all the hard rock guitarists fretwork from now till the Rapture. Rest In Peace, Ron. You will be missed.
This is just a polite response to Keith. Despite what you saw printed on the first Stooges album, Iggy never went by the name ‘Iggy Stooge.’ Iggy went on record saying the record company (Elektra)took a liberty against his wishes and consent. I’m paraphrasing Iggy’s exact words, but Elektra’s motive was to give Iggy Stooge ‘brand identity.’
James Osterberg went by the name Iggy since the early 60’s. His teenage band was Iggy & The Iguanas!
Dem’s the facts, Jack. If you don’t believe me, go google some Iggy interviews and see for yourself.
R.I.P. Ron.
…at the risk of causing a flamewar, i feel that F. Snotra’s comments, although valid, are a bit insensitive and have a taste of some vituperation and a lot of needlesss venom… please, we music fans (not pundits) are trying to show some respect…i believe scott would hopefully agree…
Axl Rose a greater frontman that Iggy Pop? hahahahahahahahahhahahahahhahahahahahahaha!
TO KEITH: If you’ve got 8mm film of the stooges, for God’s sake get them on youtube or otherwise make them accessible to Stooges fans! There is tragically little video of this great band. SHARE IT, PLEASE!
(IN response to your message above, where you wrote: “I was there at the very end–Super 8 camera in hand–Iggy alone on stage after the rest of the band walked off, taunting the crowd to throw things at him before he too followed them.”)
In response to Keith — you’re not the only person from Detroit here, bubba. And I happen to agree with everything Mark said. And I believe he’s from Michigan, too. So… go take a hike up that giant tire alongside 94, or something.
It’s so cooooold in the D.
you won’t get a flame war out of me… unlike some other posters here, i have what the dames call “class.”
but i stand by my comments. first of all, i said nothing about the deceased, RIP to him.
secondly, iggy is nothing more than a coked up retard on stage singing songs no one likes or knows. frankly, its embarrassing he still tries to do it at age 55 or whatever he is. (which in fairness, can also be said of mick) its just that iggy wasn’t any good to begin with.
cutting yourself with glass and rolling around in peanut butter doesn’t make you a great frontman, it does however make you an idiot.
To Keith: I appreciate your remarks, but while the Stooges had a powerful following in Michigan, by most accounts that evaporated once they passed the state line. (The MC5 had the same problem.) Being a local legend will only take you so far, and in their first lifespan that was the Stooges sad fate.
And to MrSinatra: I don’t want to get in an flame war, but a few points are worth mentioning. (A) Iggy is 60 years old and can still kick just about anyone’s ass on stage. (B) Iggy’s been clean and sober for years, and while he’s still a formidable human cannonball, he hasn’t cut himself or thrown peanut butter in decades. (C) It’s interesting that you cite Bowie as a better frontman than Iggy, since Bowie has long been one of Iggy’s mot passionate defenders — he’s produced several album for Iggy (as well as mixing RAW POWER), recorded a bunch of his songs, and even played keys in Iggy’s band in 1978. I have the feeling David wouldn’t quite agree with what you have to say. (D) And while I don’t recall Axl weighing in on Iggy, his former buddies Slash and Duff played on Iggy’s album BRICK BY BRICK. Guess they think he’s OK too.
My tribute to Ron Asheton:
I first encountered Ron’s presence and voice in the pages of Please Kill Me, the wonderful oral history of US-based punk rock. His anecdotes were vivid, wryly hilarious, insightful. He made me want to learn more. Believe it or not, I had never listened to the Stooges before, though i’d heard about them a bit, especially Iggy Pop. I instantly became an iggiologist and Stooge freak at an advanced age, and it revolutionized my life. I feel happier on a daily basis, I have more energy, I’m not afraid to be more sassy and humorous and performative. The Stooges, one could say, gave me my groove back. Ron’s hypnotic guitar playing brings me deep into myself and out into the world simultaneously. He plays those riffs and it seems as if they have been in the world forever, but they haven’t. That, to me is the sign of genius: when something is initiated into the world, like a three-chord riff, it suddenly seems so obvious and right–natural even, as if ordained by the logic of natural processes–but it never had existed before. That is the Stooge genius: it sounds simple, but it is a whole concept, a unity, a total experience. It’s Life. And Ron Asheton, who gave so much to so many in not all that many years, has made this enormous contribution to humanity.
My thoughts are with his friends and loved ones and colleagues as they learn to fully internalize and pass on what he gave them.
deepest sympathies and warmest wishes,
hyperpoesia