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The Stooges debut self-titled release is only about 35 minutes in length, but it packs a punch that lends on these ears like a distorted guitar pumped through an amp in an old stale library. I suppose that by now, you have figured out that my taste in music [during the late 60s] is going to be more in line with the boundary-pushing rockers and proto-punk than with the folksy strumming tunes. Opening with "1969" Iggy announces the year when they entered the scene, with the seven songs that were basically the band's staples during their live performances before getting signed. The Stooges are clearly influenced by the Rolling Stones, MC5s, and The Velvet Underground, but Iggy Pop is his own man [supposedly credited with 'stage diving'] and it was that outrageous stage behavior and his voice that perhaps earned him the well-deserved coronation of being the "Godfather of Punk". Yeah, I would have loved to see this performed live. But the energy of this record is enough to turn my studio into a grungy, noisy, powerhouse of a dark and sweaty rock club where the half-naked singer in brown leather pants is smearing ground hamburger meat all over his bare chest. It's a great album, except the ten-minute "We Will Fall", which I had to skip on my second playthrough - I've had enough of the Hare Krishna chants when the followers come out and dance here in London Chinatown. Even during the lockdown.