Tom Waits: First UK Date In Yonks Announced + Full New LP Track-By-Track Lowdown
By: Toby L
It's official - Tom Waits will be performing his first UK show in almost 20 years.
The date and venue are confirmed: November 23 - Hammersmith Apollo. Be there. Tickets go on sale via all the usual outlets this Friday, September 10th.
And - xclusivly - we can now provide, as follows, a track-by-track account/recounting of Waits' new studio-LP, 'Real Gone', set for release on October 4th.
Alongside the old garde, rockfeedback were the token, nubile young chimps that sauntered on to a top secret playback of 'Real Gone' at Whitfield Studios, London a fortnight back. It's not a natural way to listen to music - supping complimentary ales in a large studio with a fistful of gurning journos - yet, reflective of the superior product we were all absorbing, the backdrop soon became irrelevant.
Our verdict, then? Upon the worldwide release of 'Real Gone', the music-world will have just gained a new addition to the folder marked 'All-Time Classic'. This could be one of the finest records of Tom's we've ever encountered. Await breathlessly.
Here's the rundown of that tracklisting, with notes on each:
'Top Of The Hill' - Scrappy, sprawling funk, the chop and paste likes of which Alabama 3 could only dream of. With kazoos.
'Hoist That Rag' - A more soulful shanty/rasp; 'No one knows what to do when the baby cries,' yelps our master, prior to an exertion of the title. It's all good, even when boasting some suspect, semi-ironic (we hope) Santana-esque guitar stylings.
'Sins Of My Father' - A brooding, dramatic old skool blues aping, with limited percussive charm, and a lot of shady political musing (a rarity in Waits' subject-matter).
'Shake It' - Sleazier than Alan Partridge in a stained raincoat, f**ked-up key changes entwine in this dark, dirty sludge-stomp.
'Don't Go Into That Barn' - In the voices of four varying characters, this is classic Waits storytelling, with a knowing grin and simultaneous menace.
'How's It Gonna End' - 'We all wanna know... How's it gonna end...'; haunting, introspective thoroughfare here, where 'The reptiles all blend into the colour of the street' and a double bass illuminates Tom's stark tales.
'Metropolitan Glide' - Human beatboxing in this bad-ass dance choon.
'Dead And Lovely' - About '... a middle-class girl with money to burn... with a bullet-proof smile... but now she's dead...' Obviously. A haunting ode, sung in a vocal-parp not at all dissimilar to Louis Armstrong's in its tragi-jazz yearning and husky vocal gravel.
'Circus' - The bearer of a vinyl crackle warmth, chirping trumpets, and a spoken word edge - only exemplified further by an inspired dosage of hypnotic xylophone, all to the tune of a carousel rumba.
'Trampled Rose' - A downtrodden nasal-wheezing sees Waits exclaim of his 'going to get my medicine...' Yes, this record has been a truly beautiful mess thus far.
'Green Grass' - Classic, warming guitar chugging, akin to countryside wagoneering, and boasting some mean whistling.
'Baby Gonna Leave Me' - A riff-based, mini monster; who's to resist?
'Clang Boom Steam' - Does exactly what it says, er, in the title - this lil ditty bears a train-like fervour that simply stinks of choking smoke.
'Make It Rain' - Possessing the finest blues guitar hook for years, Waits bleeds, 'She took all my money and my best friend...' It'd be trite if the delivery wasn't so vital and drenched in bile.
'Day After Tomorrow' - The acoustic, folk-based epitaph, and a tear-jerking moment of genius... 'I'm not Abel, I'm just Cane...' / 'I'm tired of taking orders' / 'Tell me how God chooses the prayers he refuses'... These are some of Waits' most stimulating sentiments yet, weary and questioning. The record closes magically.
Conclusion: though occasionally more modern in aesthetic than we're used to with the fella, the production of 'Real Gone' maintains that smoky, timeless mask which defines Waits in all his guises, his vox more garbled than ever previous, and the overall work proving his dustiest, grooviest and most heart-rending yet. A diverse melange that will savagely entice new listeners and dumbfound those that (naively) thought they'd already figured Waits out. It's bloody long, too.
And he didn't use a single piano once. All hail: Album Of The Year 2004. We're still coming down.