Heroes Week: Taking the Downtown Train with Tom Waits

Anyone who knows me should fully expect that this article was coming. My love for Tom Waits is pretty extreme. I consider his music to be of the highest quality of any music I’ve heard in my life. And yes, he’s one of the few I can put above The Beatles. Oddly enough, my first exposure to Tom Waits as such was not through his music. I first became aware of him from his role in Mystery Men. I had seen him in other films like The Fisher King and Bram Stoker’s Dracula prior to that, but I didn’t have an idea of who he was. I was exposed to his music thanks in part to Firewater’s cover of “Diamonds and Gold” from Songs We Should Have Written. I went on a three month Tom Waits binge that summer, buying nearly every album he released in his long career, and just fell in love with his gruff voice, his lyricism, his view of the world. Real Gone was released later that year, and I was fully hooked.

What amazes me about Tom Waits is his constant upheaval as an artist. I always implore people to listen to his records in chronological order (although I usually tell them to skip Foreign Affairs) just to watch him turn from piano balladeer to blues balladeer to carnival barker to grim reaper to folk balladeer to something that can only be described as the work of a demon. It’s an incredibly varied career with constant reinvention, but the quality of the song writing and lyricism exists throughout. Old Tom is best when he’s singing narratives like “Invitation to the Blues” or “Blue Valentines” or “Martha.” His ability to evoke a scene or emotion is legendary, and he’s one of the best if you want to wallow in sorrow with a sad song. That’s not to say he’s a one note songwriter. Far from it. Humor, slice of life, surrealism, it’s all on the table. And it’s all done in such a great way.

Even if you think you’ve never heard a Tom Waits song, there’s a decent chance you have without realizing it. Ever hear Bruce Springsteen’s rendition of “Jersey Girl”? That’s a Tom Waits song. Ever see Shrek 2? The song Captain Hook plays in the tavern is “Little Drop of Poison,” recently released as part of the Orphans box set. “Ol’ 55” was covered by The Eagles. “Downtown Train” and “Tom Traubert’s Blues” were (badly) covered by Rod Stewart. He’s around, whether you realize it or not. It’s not surprising that you see a lot of covers of his songs. The man’s voice can be off putting to an outsider. At some point in the eighties, his vocal chords were apparently replaced by steel wool. Despite this, he still brings the emotion, and the gruff vocals often serve to reinforce the everyman feel of his lyrics. He’s a perfect fit for what he sings.

I’m very disappointed that Tom has not toured the northeast since I discovered my love for his music. His stage banter is hilarious (I’m super excited that the new live release coming next month, Glitter and Doom, will apparently have an entire disc of just stage banter), and he has played some of the greatest live songs I’ve ever heard. I hope to see him live one day. Really, he’s the only one left I actively need to see live. It should happen eventually, and that will be a great day. Here’s to you, Tom.

Top Five Tom Waits Albums

5. Blue Valentine (1978)

Tom Waits in full-on bluesy fervor. It’s the beginnings of his transition away from normal music towards the, well, whatever the hell you call what he did in the 80’s, and is a definite precursor to the dirty, sleazy Heartattack and Vine. “Blue Valentines” is one of his best ballads, and “$29.00” might be the best pure blues narrative he ever wrote. The rest of it is solid gold despite the maudlin cover of “Somewhere.” It’s a vision of things to come, but a full album of goodness in its own right.

4. Rain Dogs (1985)

The apex of the carnival barker years. Rain Dogs is a titanic album, with 19 tracks. It’s the first album he worked with Marc Ribot, and has a very distinctive guitar feel alongside the wild percussive styles that began on Swordfishtrombones. It’s a solid record despite its number of tracks, and very few of these songs are throwaways. This used to be my favorite album of his, but I think there’s something generally missing from his work in the 80’s. It’s still fantastic and damned near flawless, but I don’t listen to it as much as I used to. Tough to deny the power of “Cemetery Polka” and “Tango ‘Til They’re Sore” though.

3. Real Gone (2004)

I liked this album when it was released. I love it now. It’s arguably the most bizarre original release (I’m not counting The Black Rider due to its nature as a musical score thingie), with this odd combination of what can only be described as a take on negro spirituals like “Sins of the Father” and “Make it Rain,” with whatever the hell ‘Baby Gonna Leave Me” is, as well as some more solid as a rock ballads. And there’s no piano to be found. NONE. And it features Tom Waits beatboxing, which might be the most demonic sound ever put to tape. “Hoist That Rag” has quietly become my favorite song in the Tom Waits canon, and this album might continue to creep up the all time charts for me.

2. Small Change (1976)

The transition into Tom Waits’ full-time blues persona that would last for the rest of the 70’s. This features two of the best ballads of Tom’s career, the famous “Tom Traubert’s Blues” and the devastating “Invitation to the Blues,” as well as the spoken word title track and the surrealism of “The Piano Has Been Drinking (Not Me)”. Every song’s a hit, and it strongly evokes both the 70’s and the 40’s at the same time. You can’t go wrong with this album.

1. Bone Machine (1991)

This is the definitive album about death. And I mean DEATH. This thing does not mess around. It’s pure perfection from top to bottom, features some of Waits’ crazier vocals (The breathy falsetto of “Dirt in the Ground” is apparently referred to as his “Prince” voice), and the single greatest break up song in the history of music in “Who Are You?”. I can’t gush enough about this record. The percussion is insane, and basically consisted of Waits, his wife and a bunch of other folks banging sticks on anything they could find that would make a percussive noise when hit. The album is dark and mysterious and foreboding, incredibly cohesive and moody. I think it’s the single best album released by anyone ever. I will always cherish it. Always.

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This post was written to the tune of That Handsome Devil’s Enlightenment’s for Suckers

It Begins: Some Talk About Music

I had started a blog a little while ago called VS System is Legion. It was obviously all about my love for the trading card game VS System, and my connection to is also what led me to be one of the founding members (as it were) of the read/RANT comic review blog started by Billy Zonos and featuring reviews and commentary from members of the VS System playing community. I stopped updating my own blog a while ago because I don’t really play VS System anymore. Sure, I talked about other things on there from time to time, but it didn’t feel right creating the blog on the foundations of VS System and never actually writing about it. So I’ve closed that one down and decided to start a new WordPress blog to pretty much cover everything I do in my life that I want to talk about without being expressly about comics (and thus being the rightful property of read/RANT).

The main driving force in my life (more so than comics) is music. This has been the case for as long as I can remember. I couldn’t wait to start playing an instrument (started with clarinet, eventually switching to drums). I’ve been to far too many concerts, and I’m amazed that my hearing is as good as it is (And it’s not very good. Interesting tidbit: the loudest band I have ever heard in my life was God Lives Underwater). There are two eras of music that I personally consider my own, which would be the progressive rock movement of the late 60’s and early 70’s, and the alternative rock revolution of the 1990’s. They’re pretty disparate musical styles, but I can’t deny the passion. And I think that the one way to really pinpoint favored musical styles or eras is the way that they’ll just aggressively stick themselves into your head with no warning. I bring this up because a similar thing happened to me just this past weekend. I don’t even know what caused my mind to make some kind of arcane connection to thought patterns or subliminal references or what have you, but the band Oleander popped into my head out of nowhere. Now Oleander was a band who had a couple of modest hits in 1998 from their album February Son. Nothing earth shattering or musically redefining. Just some nice solid alternative rock tunes. So I went digging into my old CDs (long since replaced by my shiny black iPod) that had actually reached the point of being dusty due to lack of use, and pulled out my copy of February Son and gave it a listen.

And here’s the amazing thing about music: the second I heard the opening verse of the lead single from that album, my memory fired immediately, and it was almost like I traveled back in time. I could see myself sitting in my dad’s Ford Explorer back in 1999 (listening to Oleander’s “Why I’m Here” on the CD player) with my brother in the back seat as we drove up to a minor league baseball stadium in Atlantic City, New Jersey. It was the day before my 15^th birthday, and we were there on vacation to see Hard Rock Rockfest (I know, not the most creative title for a show). It was a daytime concert featuring three bands. Oleander was the opener, Smash Mouth was the headliner, and The Marvelous 3 went on second. We weren’t there to see Smash Mouth. This was after “All Star” became overplayed to death, so it was more a situation of toleration than anything else. My brother was there for the Marvies. We discovered them right around the time Freak of the Week became a minor hit, and we also discovered that Butch Walker might be the most energetic person on earth. I liked the Marvies at that point, but I was mostly there to groove on Oleander, enjoy a solid Marvies set and tune out when Smash Mouth came on. Which is pretty much what I did, although Smash Mouth put on a pretty fun set. It’s amazing how hearing one song can make you relive an entire day. I went through my CD’s and pulled out some other old gems (Marilyn Manson’s Mechnical Animals, early Oasis, Local H) and some one off electronica tunes (Basement Jaxx, Lo Fidelity All Stars) and I’ve been blissing out on some great music all week at work. Good times.

Now, on to the top five list, which will probably be a regular feature of this blog (High Fidelity is awesome). Today I’m going to look at my top five concert experiences. These aren’t necessarily the best concerts I’ve seen as such, but they’re certainly the most memorable. I’ve also thrown in my worst concert experience, which will be pretty self explanatory when we get there.

5. David Bowie (Headliner) and The Polyphonic Spree – FleetCenter: Boston, MA 2004

I’ve been a Bowie fan for a long time. It was a great set, but it also served as my introduction to a girl I dated for a bit, so there’s some special significance.

4. Muse (Headliner), The Exit, and Jagolinzer – Lupo’s at the Strand: Providence, RI 2004

Oddly enough, I went to this show the night that the girl from show 5 dumped me. It was a very cathartic experience. Plus, this was my first exposure to The Exit, a band I’ve grown to love.

3. King Crimson (Headliner) and Living Colour – Avalon: Boston, MA 2003

This was memorable not just because I got to see King Crimson live, but also because it was somewhat surreally awesome that a band like Living Colour was 1) still actually a band and 2) opening for a band so completely different than them like King Crimson. The Krims were great, and Living Colour also showed me a lot as far as their quality beyond “Cult of Personality.”

2. Firewater (Headliner), Calla and Black Helicopters – Paradise Rock Club: Boston, MA 2004

Paradise Rock Club: Boston, MA 2004 – Firewater’s my favorite live band ever. Great music, great performances, and my best friend Greg and I walked out of the Paradise on a Friday night in December in the middle of a snowstorm that lasted until Sunday afternoon. We met up with some friends that night, walked the shores of the Charles River and sang songs while dancing in the snow. It was magical.

1. Stabbing Westward (Headliner), God Lives Underwater, and Econoline Crush – Electric Factory: Philadelphia, PA 1998

As far as a top to bottom lineup, this was probably the best show I’ve been to. 1998 was the height of mainstream industrial music, with these being three of my favorites in the genre. All of them put together fantastic sets, and I really do remember it fondly.

And now for the worst…

Disturbed (Headliner), Taproot, Chevelle and Unloco – Tsongas Arena: Lowell, MA 2002

This was officially my exit from the world of the metal genre. Throughout Junior High and High School I was indeed duped by much of the nu metal movement (although some of the bands did manage to transcend their genre. Nonpoint is a great example of this), and everything came to a head this night. First of all, Lowell, Massachusetts is not exactly a peach of a town. And I found myself standing on the floor watching Taproot and Chevelle put on underwhelming sets (they’re two bands I still listen to from time to time, but I don’t exactly go out of my way) surrounded by fourteen year old kids wearing Linkin Park T-Shirts. And I had a moment of clarity. I think this must be what it feels like when addicts finally hit rock bottom and realize they need to make a change (though on a much smaller and less serious scale, natch). And I stood there and thought about how I had finally escaped the provincial monotony of suburban Pennsylvania and moved to an intellectually vibrant and diverse city like Boston. And here I was, basically right back in High School. I made a lot of changes to myself that night, and they weren’t all simply music related. Sure, the concert sucked. But in a way, it was one of the best things that ever happened to me. Life’s funny like that sometimes.

This blog post was written to the tune of Firewater’s The Ponzi Scheme