It's unfair to expect rock legends to remain in arrested adolescence. But Iggy's more than happy to oblige. A major improvement over Avenue B's acoustic midlife crisis, this self-produced disc finds the Ig yelping off the top of his id again. That means more snotty tunes about alienation and bodily fluids backed by a raging garage band. Any signs of graceful aging? Nuh-uh.


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