Just a pleasant diversion from "saving the world from economic
disaster"... (Well, not really, but sort of a pleasant diversion from
saving the world from economic disaster, since Tom is pretty gloomy and
comments on disaster, though does not try to rescue it.)
I look forward to this new work... especially if this part of the
interview is true...
The songs, written and produced by Waits and his wife
Kathleen Brennan, sometimes sound as if they were recorded
amid the clanging clatter of a forge or foundry.
I like the percussion-jerky, cow-bell-clank, industrial dissonance of
things like "16 Shells from a .30-06." The song cycle from Swordfish
Trombone and Rain Dogs is _steeped_ in industrial society imagery. Those
works are perhaps the cultural interpretative height of American Grape
of Wrath meets Howlin' Wolf musical art.
Another aside: I have two daughters, 10 and 5. Both are bright and funny
and beautiful little girls. During this summer just past, we discovered
the delightful books of Lemony Snicket -- "A Series of Unfortunate
Events", more or less an anti-Disney set of stories for children. (The
series opens when the children's parents die in a fire and the now
orphans are made wards of a boneheaded banker named Mr. Poe. They are
shuffled from weird relative to weird relative, trying to keep their
wits about them to survive the social pressures and the desire of one
relative, Count Olaf, to get custody of them and then kill them for
their trust fund.)
My eldest daughter has developed a theory that Lemony Snicket is really
Tom Waits. She loves Waits -- and can actually recite the lyrics to
Tango Until They're Sore -- and thinks they have the same twisted,
dark-art sense of reality.
Ken.
--- cut here ---
Songs of decay from Waits
Brilliant, gloomy music from a pursued psyche
He's not coming soon to Toronto. Nothing personal
VIT WAGNER
POP MUSIC CRITIC
Tue. Oct. 5, 2004
Tom Waits pauses briefly to consider whether "Day After Tomorrow," which
takes the form of a letter home from a soldier at the front, should be
interpreted as anti-war in general, or anti-Bush in particular. In the
end, he decides, it all comes to the same thing.
"Bush calls himself a wartime president, so if you're anti-war you're
anti-Bush and if you're anti-Bush you're anti-war," reasons Waits,
during a recent phone interview.
"I don't know whether he came in knowing he was a wartime president and
said, `Well you know what, the only thing missing here is a war.' He's
like a doctor who breaks your leg. And then comes in and fixes it for
you."
Waits' suspicions do not end there. While the California resident
intends to vote in next month's U.S. presidential election, he has
serious doubts about whether his ballot will even be counted.
"I'm certainly don't trust the voting machines, which are all
computerized now. I don't know enough about it, except that any computer
is corruptible. You've already got a corrupt government, so ..." His
voice trails off before widening the argument: "I don't trust anything
they tell you. I don't trust the food I buy at the supermarket. You
better grow it in your backyard or it's going to kill you."
If that sounds dark, it's perfectly in keeping with the sentimental
thrust of the 54-year-old singer/songwriter's gloomy but nevertheless
brilliant new album, Real Gone (Anti/Epitaph). If you haven't guessed
from the title, the disc's 15 tracks are steeped in allusions to death,
decay and decline � whether individual ("Dead And Lonely") or imperial
("Hoist That Rag").
"I think there's a pretty heavy emphasis on mortality in whatever you
do," he says. "How do you avoid it? We're decomposing as we go. We're
the dead on vacation. It's not a theme I need to pursue. It pursues me."
Real Gone, which arrives in stores today, is Waits' 20th album and
first � not counting 2002's Alice and Blood Money, both of which were
written to accompany works for the stage � since 1999's Mule Variations.
Even by Waits' adventurously experimental standards, the groove-heavy,
rhythmic emphasis is a significant musical departure. The songs, written
and produced by Waits and his wife Kathleen Brennan, sometimes sound as
if they were recorded amid the clanging clatter of a forge or foundry.
The piano, the singer's constant companion for more than two decades, is
entirely absent. Instead, the orchestrations are dominated by the
slashing guitar of Marc Ribot and the percussive and turntable effects
created by Waits' son, Casey.
"We brought hundreds of instruments in there, including the piano,"
Waits says. "My theory is that if you don't bring it with you you'll
definitely need it, which is not to say that if bring it you'll use it."
Waits is especially pleased with "Metropolitan Glide," inspired by a
genre seldom heard since the early days of rock and roll.
"Instructional dance songs are a rarity these days," he says. "When I
was a kid, it seemed that every single that came out was an
instructional dance song. Like "The Locomotion," "The Jerk," "The
Peppermint Twist," "The Grind," "The Mess Around" � there were a million
of them."
Mind you, the actual steps are open to interpretation: "Turn off the
ringer on your cellular phone/Whip the air like a rainbow trout/Drag
your tailpipe till you bottom out/Do the Metropolitan Glide."
Not that Toronto fans should expect to do the "Metropolitan Glide" at a
live show anytime soon. Waits, who performed at the Hummingbird Centre
in 1999, has no plans to stop here on a tour that so far includes only
two Canadian dates, both in Vancouver.
We're advised not to take it personally. After all, when Waits plays
London, England next month it will be his first show there in 17 years.
"I don't go on the road a lot. It makes me grumpy," he explains. "I go
if I have to. It's like anything when you travel. Everything gets banged
up, especially the songs. The acoustics are different every night.
"There's a diminishing return. But I still do it. I usually like it when
I get out there. It's just the anticipation of airports and all that
stuff. I'm an albino catfish. I like it in my tank."
The more intelligent one is, the more men of originality one
finds. Ordinary people find no difference between men.
-- Blaise Pascal
>-----Original Message-----
>From: PEN-L list [mailto:[EMAIL PROTECTED] Behalf Of Kenneth
>Campbell
>Sent: Tuesday, October 05, 2004 6:57 PM
>To: [EMAIL PROTECTED]
>Subject: Re: [PEN-L] Canadian polls on U.S. election
>
>
>Your Honors,
>
>My learned friend Mr. Shemano writes:
>
>>The difference in views between Canadians and Americans is
>>that Canadian culture is rooted in those who disagreed with
>>the American Revolution. Traitors should not be allowed to
>>vote.
>
>My friend is apparently referencing the U.S. legal doctrine of the
>"Three Georges."
>
>I have no objection to this.
>
>I embrace the Doctrine of Three Georges. As I understand it,
>the current
>U.S. head of state is also a "third George." (The third U.S. president
>to be named George.)
>
>I would invite my friend to follow his own advice.
>
>Thank you,
>
>Ken.
>
>--
>George III was the symbol against which our Founders made a
>revolution now considered bright and glorious.... We must now
>realize that today's Establishment is the new George III.
>Whether it will continue to adhere to his tactics, we do not know.
>If it does, the redress, honored in tradition, is also revolution.
> -- William O. Douglas
