At their absolute finest, The Stooges were a no-frills punk band who sounded dirty and rough. So whereas their debut had production that closely resembled December's Children-era Rolling Stones, and Raw Power favored clever songwriting above earnest and edgy delivery, Funhouse was that sweet spot where The Stooges should have lived in all day. The lo-fi approach does the band a lot of favors, injecting a raucous energy into their already brash style, packing an even bigger wallop than "I Wanna Be Your Dog" or "Search and Destroy." Funhouse is the sound of garage rock evolving into something as-of-yet unrecognizable and oh-so exciting, and at least some of that uniqueness has to be credited to bassist, Dave Alexander, who was fired from the group shortly after this album's release and would die of a pulmonary edema in 1975. Alexander's sleazy low ends gave the melodies a rowdy swagger that was largely lacking in the second wave of punk music. Album opener "Down on the Street" provides the album its chugging heartbeat, with every song after that building on and splintering off its raging chorus. "Dirt" finds the band in relatively uncharted waters, slowing things down to a weird kind of drugged-out menace, and "L.A. Blues" closes things out with a complete aural assault, splattering the walls with fuzzy blasts of guitar and drums. But everything in between is raunchy, howling proto-punk. And it's damn fun.
