Ron Asheton, 1948-2009

This week was a sad week for rock and roll.

We lost a man whose name isn’t in the same field of popularity as Jimmy Page or Hendrix. But if you look into any Top-Guitarist countdowns, old or new, I’ll be damned if you don’t see Ron Asheton, the unsung hero of the legendary rock band The Stooges.

Asheton was found dead on Tuesday. And to make it even more depressing, police say that he had been dead for several days prior his discovery. It’s still unclear why he died and why it wasn’t discovered earlier, but according to reports, the 60-year-old guitarist died of a heart attack. He died in his home in Ann Arbor, Michigan, the same town that was the birthplace of the Stooges in 1967.

Ronald Frank Asheton was born in Washington, D.C. on July 17, 1948. He started playing the accordion at age five and hadn’t picked up a guitar until he was 10. He co-founded The Psychedelic Stooges with the godfather of Punk, Iggy Pop, the late bassist Dave Alexander (who died of alcoholism-related pulmonary edema in 1975, five years after his departure from The Stooges), and younger brother Scott Asheton on drums. They weren’t the most glamorous group of musicians, but they knew how to put on a show. Dubbed the “little brother band” to fellow Detroit natives and Elektra labelmates The MC5, they cut their name down simply to The Stooges and played endless amounts of shows throughout the Ann Arbor area. Their concerts consisted of Iggy dry-humping the stage, spitting and howling, Scott playing the same drumbeat throughout, Dave staring at his bass with blank emotions, and to the side of the stage would have Ron, only in his shallow 20s, wailing away on his candy-apple red Stratocaster.  

Light was finally shed on the four pot-smoking rockers from Ann Arbor when Elektra Records talent scout Danny Fields saw the Stooges opening for The Motor City 5. That night, both bands were signed to the label. Elektra was the distributor for the Stooges’ first two (and arguably best) releases. The self-titled debut, produced by John Cale, has become a crucial artifact of the earliest stages of punk rock. Ron provided the classic licks for rockers like “1969,” “No Fun,” and the punk anthem of “I Wanna Be Your Dog”. A year later saw the release of what many critics call possibly the “loudest album of all time,” the nearly-perfect rock album Fun House, which has a sound as spaced out and dense as the album’s cover. A chaotic whirlwind of reverb-heavy screams by Pop and full guitar riffs that fill every millimeter of any speaker it’s played through.

Raw Power was the third release, with the slightly altered lineup and name. Iggy and The Stooges consisted of James Williamson on lead guitar while Ron stepped back to provide the missing bass position due to the firing of Dave Alexander shortly after the release of Fun House. The Stooges broke up in the mid 70s, but that didn’t stop Ron. He played in bands such as The New Order, (not to be confused with the post-Joy Division band New Order), New Race and Destroy All Monsters. In 2003, The Stooges reunited under the original lineup, with the only alteration of Dave being replaced by the equally stellar Mike Watt of Minutemen fame. Between Iggy’s relentless stage acts and Asheton’s righteous guitar play, The Stooges were reincarnated to wow audiences of a new generation.  

For me, I couldn’t have asked for a better time to stumble upon The Stooges. Just a few months into high school, I was pissed off in the typical underclassman fashion. I hated the school, I hated the fact my parents were separating, and I simply hated being bored and having no motivation. I found a beat-up vintage copy of the debut at a record fair for 15 dollars. I knew a little about Iggy Pop, and understood the influence this band had on the bands I had been listening to, mainly Sonic Youth and Dinosaur Jr. I remember putting the needle on the vinyl and hearing the guitar intro of “1969,” performed by Asheton. His guitar playing grabbed my attention even more than Iggy’s vocals. I spent nights sitting by my turntable with my door closed, windows open and stereo blaring, hearing the music of four Detroit 20-year-olds who were equally bored and pissed off, just playing music about sexual angst, hooking up with girls and partying. Caught up in typical adolescent doldrums, it was refreshing to hear that there were guys 40 years before me going through the same thing.  

That autumn I fell in love with Fun House; it helped me through my first breakup and my father moving out of the house. I listened to Fun House pretty much exclusively for two months, and eventually appreciated the warmth and comfort of that record through the complete raging noise. Even when I got my driver’s license, the first album I ever played was Fun House, with all the windows down and the stereo at maximum volume. This past August, I purchased a $100 Virgin Fest ticket solely to see Iggy and The Stooges. It amazed me to be 12 feet away from the stage, seeing Iggy and Ron giving it 100 percent as if they were playing 40 years ago at the Grande Ballroom in Detroit.  

Although only 60, Asheton left the world with a huge, appreciative following. We never really heard much of his actual voice; he rarely spoke in interviews and seemed like a quiet guy. But his guitar work is louder than any scream or yelp done by Iggy. And from now on, every time I listen to “1970” off of Fun House, I will make sure that his absolutely righteous guitar solo will be blasted at maximum volume each time, reminding us that Ron and Dave can continue to rock the holy hell out of any functioning stereo.