Steve Albini’s production foregrounds the drums, and Scott brews up a storm. Ron’s characteristic wah-wah guitar is solid if workmanlike. Surprisingly, the chief culprit here would appear to be Iggy himself. The songs are only so-so, some of them downright dumb – and not the studiedly ironic dumb of ‘1969’ or ‘I Wanna Be Your Dog’, just plain dumb. Plus, for someone in such great voice on his last solo effort, 2003’s Skull Ring, here his pipes sound unbelievably weak. One can only conclude that generous Iggy, already financially secure himself, was conceding to providing for the rather less flush Ashetons’ pension funds. But it’ll be interesting to hear how his own next album measures up.

While never one to worry overly about posterity, and how a misfire can potentially damage a great band’s legacy, this offering must rank as a major disappointment for long time fans, particular in comparison with other recent reunion platters, like the New York Dolls’ cracking Some Day It Will Please Us To Remember Even This. Rock critics wouldn’t like this at all predicts the Ig on ‘Trollin’’; and, ya know, he’s right.

First published in Magill, May 2007