Nick Young:Listened to: CD
There’s something morbidly eccentric about Tom Waits circa 1985’s “Rain Dogs” that’s sort of hard for me to pin down. I’m going to just come out and say this right now- I’m in love with this guy. My eyes lit up every time he appeared as the devil on the screen in Terry Gilliam’s “The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus.”. Since I first heard his idiosyncratic gravely voice at the impressionable age of seventeen, I’ve sought out every movie he’s been in short of Robert Altman’s “Short Cuts,” and attained every single album of his worth having (that is to say all of them). I’ll be the first to admit it- I’m a little bit obsessed. However, I view this as more of a virtue than a vice since I’m supposedly the guy who wants to make a movie out of this man’s life.
All the same, I’m going to try to look at Waits’ “Rain Dogs” as objectively as possible. This is going to be difficult, seeing as I’m just as likely to romanticize the abyss as Waits is, but I’ll try.
One of the key attributes that sets “Rain Dogs” apart from its predecessors, namely “Swordfishtrombones,” is the addition of guitarist Marc Ribot. His voodoo-crazed, mentally disturbed riffs on “ Singapore ,” “Clap Hands,” and “Jockey Full of Bourbon” sound like they’re being plucked by the fingers of Satan himself. It was only a matter of time before Tom Waits played the part of the devil, but he never did forget the lonely heart of a Saturday Night. He sort of melted gorgeous sentimentality and whiskey-splashed boisterousness into one musical outlet, which he’s been perfecting ever since.
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Mike Natale:
Listened to: MP3
“If I want a sound, I usually feel better if I've chased it and killed it, skinned it and cooked it.”
Is there any more badass a way to say “Fuck synths”? I think not. That’s how Tom Waits explained the organic sound of his 1985 album Rain Dogs. I’m not sure what this album sounds like, but it sure as shit don’t sound like the 1980’s.
Listen to that bouncing growl on “Singapore”. This is some demented Danny Elfman wet dream, and I gotta admit, I’m scared shitless. I’ve lived in New York all my life, and have never once seen the New York Waits is trying to show me on Rain Dogs. This is a dark, scary, seedy New York. I feel like “Clap Hands” is the kind of song Julie Taymor dreams of choreographing. I can feel the fog on my face, and even as I’m typing this, I keep looking over my shoulder.
I have to be honest with you, my dear readers, I don’t normally type my reviews WHILE listening to the album, but I need to keep my mind somewhat occupied, because so far, this album fucking terrifies me. “Cemetery Polka”? First off, it reminds me of “Mark It Up” from Repo! A Genetic Opera, a movie which, if you enjoy this album is highly worth your viewership. But listen to that organ, that growling, grumbling voice, the drumming, It sounds like the most horrifying circus you’ll ever stumble into.
“Jockey Full Of Bourbon” is a little less Tim Burton-y. It sounds like what I’d imagine phone-sex with Michael Bublé is like, if Michael had just huffed paint. This is the first song, too, that feels like a full song, rather than just snippets. What makes this album brilliant already is that it feels like you’re just dropping in on small portions of the New York Conversations that Lou Reed sang about on Transformer. Indeed, the question Reed raises on that song, “Who has touched and who has dabbled, here in the city of shows?” seems to be answered by this album.
Perfect example, “Tango Till They're Sore”, a song so potently slurred you can smell the whiskey through your stereo. This track is basically what you hear if you go to an open-mic night at a crappy downtown bar. And I’m loving every second of it. Yet, it’s the track “Big Black Mariah” that rocks me to my core. The vocals aren’t unfortunate so much as Muddy Waters-esque perfection, the drums hammer with a thunderous rock force, and the guitar…the guitar enthralled me. And here’s some real-time action for you. I just looked up the guitarist for this track. Keith mother-fucking Richards. From the Rolling Stones. Yeah, now I get it. Now I know why I love it so much. Keith makes everything awesome.
“Diamonds & Gold” returns to that creepy vibe we had before, but a little less dark, and now more…drippy. Can drippy be an adjective for this album? I think it can (Dude, what is with my writing voice lately. I’m becoming the Andy Rooney of album reviews). “Hang Your Head Down” opens with a guitar that reminds me of the Velvet Underground, and to be honest, that’s what the song itself feels like. It sounds like a rejected VU track, and to be honest, this is the first track so far on the album where I’ve found Waits’ grizzled voice off-putting. It doesn’t seem to work on this track like it does on the others. It’s a terrific song, indeed the most commercial so far, but not for Waits. I’m sure as shit gonna cover it, though. Can’t let gems like them slip past you.
“Time”, conversely, is the best song for Waits’ voice so far. Now, I know this song, but simply from the Tori Amos cover, and I’m discovering this version in the best way anyone can. I’m being moved.
By the end of “Time”, I was crying. I felt I should inform you. Very few songs can bring me to tears, (only “Love, Reign O’er Me” by The Who, “I Know It’s Over” by The Smiths but as performed by Jeff Buckley, and “Whispering” from Spring Awakening) but “Time” did it. Waits seemed to pour every once of his humanity into that track, and that’s the most any artist can do.
Then we go back to the staggered, staccato instrumentals on the title track. After something as unique an experience as “Time”, it’s hard to decipher this track from the others on the album. I like the feeling of it, and it’s unique when compared to other albums, but similar to the other track. I much preferred the following track, “Midtown”. Though only a minute long, it maintained the feeling of the album, while being individual and unique. The same can be said for the basically spoken word “9th & Hennepin”, which sounds like a speech by Brando’s Stanley Kowalski set to late Miles Davis compositions. For the record, the hairs on my arms are raising up during this. I may piss myself.
“Gun Street Girl” reminds me of Bright Eyes’ Lifted album, and if someone wants to leave a comment explaining why, feel free to, because I can not for the life of me figure out why. It’s not one of my favorite tracks, but it’s still an enjoyable listening experience. After another blah track entitled “Union Square” comes the country twanged “Blind Love”. Here’s another pretty special track, which sounds like Waits covering Willie Nelson, and shows that Waits’ voice always has a place in country music, should he choose to take it.
“Walking Spanish” was a fun little track to precede “Downtown Train”, the real hit off the album, which, to be honest, is Rod Stewart’s song. Tom Waits tried on this one, hell, it is his song, but Rod Stewart truly claimed this one. It’s just not right for Tom. A terrific song, but not for Tom. Seriously, here’s the Rod version. You see my point.
“Bride of Rain Dog” is by far the scariest fucking track on the album. I seriously feel like I’m gonna be murdered right now.
So, then we end with “Anywhere I Lay My Head”, which some of you know was the title track for Scarlett Johansson’s cover album of Tom Waits, which was…well…we’re here to talk about Tom Waits. This is a pretty powerful track, and a good way to close the album, especially with that New Orleans horn break at the end. But I have to be honest, even after this whole eclectically brilliant album, it is still “Time” that lingers in the air above me, moving me even now to places my soul would rather hide from.
In all, I have to say Rain Dogs is a phenomenal album, even if some of the tracks have been performed better by other artists. This is highly worth the listen, and I defy you to not feel the heartache in “Time”. I fucking defy you.
-Mike
Well, stop by tomorrow for a completely different sound, that being #118: Stand! by Sly & The Family Stone.
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