I first ran into the Stooges before my music taste was ready for them. A freshman in high school embarking on my first Spoon discography tour, I was reading the lyrics of “The Way We Get By,” which mentions the Stooges’s “Down on the Street.” A curious junior-music-lover, I gave Fun House’s opening track a listen. It fell on deaf-to-punk ears. Fortunately, Iggy and I met again a couple years ago. I liked what I heard.

Following a lack of commercial success with the Stooges’s first album, Fun House was meant to capture the band’s more popular live performance style. This intention coupled with frontman Iggy Pop’s fascination with blues music begot quite an interesting record.

“Down on the Street” is Fun House’s most polished track; it goes down easier than any of its brothers and sisters. While this does make it the strongest standalone song on the album, it doesn’t make it the best. The hallmark of this band is that they never intended for their music to go down easily. Iggy Pop once said he wanted his music to sound like dropping a piece of sheet metal. Given his catalog, I’m sure he’s quite pleased with himself on that front.

Still, the Stooges know how to make music beyond sheet metal–way beyond sheet metal. Fun House contains a heavy blues influence and really showcases the band’s instrumental ability. Reaching this does require some excavation, however, as Iggy’s animalistic screams often take aural precedent. He spares the listener somewhat on side one, with “Down on the Street,” “Loose,” “T.V. Eye,” and “Dirt” all being quite … listenable.

This walk in the proto-punk park is hastened by “1970.” This track features Iggy’s vocals at war with a saxophone. It’s as if Pop and the sax are going at it in the ring while Dave Alexander and brothers Asheton stand outside watching and keeping time with their respective instruments. Even here, it isn’t just noise. Everybody knows what they’re doing and everybody’s keeping up, making this track one of the most impressive musical showcases on the record.

The saxophone continues onto the title track, as does the wild yet expertly controlled work of the rest of the band. It seems that Iggy and the sax have come to a détente by this point. Things slow back down as some of the angst in Iggy’s lyrics is resolved. The saxophonist Steve Mackay really shows his skill now that Iggy is off his back. Scott Asheton’s drumming on this track is also steadily incredible. The listener can only hope this track’s gorgeous, classic sound can carry them home to end, right on through Fun House’s heinous final song.

“L.A. Blues” is an unstructured mess. It’s sheet metal. It’s worse than sheet metal. It’s absolute studio wreckage. Now that they’ve proven they can make music, they start to make noise. Who can blame them? Of course they had to get their ya-yas out after all that classy blues-making.

Taken as a whole, Fun House is both intoxicating and insufferable in a ratio so perfect you can’t help but spin it again. It only takes two ears and some patience to recognize the record as truly impressive and hugely important to the world of music.