There is something to be said for rejecting any sort of sanctity in punk rock. By its nature, punk is nihilistic, self-destructive, disposable, and temporary. It’s surprising enough that it didn’t burn out as a movement before it even got on the map, and it’s more surprising that it lasted this long. That being said, even if you ignore the fact that The Stooges made three of the most brutal, unforgiving masterpieces of boredom and loathing that the world has ever seen, The Weirdness is still a big pile of shit. I’ll be honest: I haven’t listened to the whole thing. I barely made it through a single song without retching. Every snippet I’ve heard since then only reinforces this opinion. The CD should have been recalled, or better yet shelved before it ever saw the light of day. Everyone involved in it should be shot seven times in the face, with the exceptions of Mike Watt and Steve Albini, who should be shot in the kneecaps and reminded that the only reason they’re still alive is because they’ve demonstrated taste in the past and they should never get involved in something like this ever again. The master tapes should be destroyed, and every copy of the album confiscated by government agents in radiation suits. Everyone who has heard more than thirty seconds of it should have their eardrums scrubbed with sandpaper and bleach. This may not go down in history as the worst album ever to come out of a proto-punk icon, but at least I can listen to Metal Machine Music.