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Rating: Orphans: brawlers, bawlers, and bastards...
"Well, songs... let's just say there will be rumbas on sirens, tarantellas on insects, madrigals on drowning: songs of dubious origins saved from a cruel fate and taken care of... take care of them, they won't eat you!"
Thus the brilliant Californian singer-songwriter (now almost 57) spoke about his latest effort: "Orphans: Brawlers, Bawlers and Bastards", a true deep dive into his indolent and magical world, encapsulated in 3 CDs of over 3 hours of music, produced again by Waits with his wife Brennan and featuring the well-tested Les Claypool from Primis, Dave Alvin, and Marc Ribot on guitars.
Among the never-released tracks are Waits' covers of songs by various artists that somehow sparked a flame in his whimsical imagination, so we can browse here and there through tracks by the Ramones, Daniel Johnston, Kurt Weill, Bertolt Brecht, Leadbelly, Kerouac, Bukowski, and others...
Songs originally recorded for various projects: readings, film soundtracks, and theatrical soundtracks whose tracks had been lost and that are finally contained for the first time in an original and coherent context (the cover, by the way, is a masterpiece with all those disturbing and elusive presences that perfectly convey the sense of bewilderment in facing such peculiar and elusive sound material!).
Each CD has a title that encapsulates its soul and its "mission": in the first one titled "Brawlers", there are raw, uneven blues and "stomp" with titles like "Lie To Me", "Fish In The Jailhouse", "Lucinda", "Road To Peace" and the poignant "The Return Of Jackie and Judy" (among the tracks heard online...).
In the second CD "Bawlers" we find ballads, country pieces, Irish and Celtic airs, strange waltzes, lullabies, and classic "Waitsian" songs played on the piano in memory of the first part of his "crooner" career, with titles like "Bend Down The Branches", "Long Way Home", "Little Drop Of Poison", "Little Man" and the Waits-through-and-through "Down There By The Train".
In the last "Bastards" (a title that says it all), we find eccentric tracks, off-kilter humor, and strange stories that defy classification; interludes that generally "color" his records but had never found their "dignity" for release as they do now: among the titles "Children's Story", the funny "Army Ants", the very sweet "First Kiss", "Poor Little Lamb" or the noisy "King Kong" with the slow ballad of "On The Road" closing the circle.
An unmissable box set for the "hardcore" and pure fans of this tireless artist who greatly improves with age and makes us hope for a maturity full of enlightening poetry and candor for a world of "losers and dreamers" from which he has always drawn inspiration (a bit like our De André...). Hang in there and mark November 20th (scheduled release date in stores): the time of "waits" and "delays" is over!!!
Bau Bye!
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
02 LowDown (04:15)
She's a crooked Sheriff in a real straight town
She opened the door shake shake the lights go down
Clover honey and the Jimson Weed
Red leather skirt way up above her knees
Oh yeah, my baby's lowdown
She's a gone lost dirt road
There ain't no way back I been told
Well she's a story they all tell
She's a rebel, she's a yell
Oh yeah, my baby's lowdown
White heat in a cold rain
I'm a mergin here in your mergin lane
Jockey La Fayette, Big Eyed Al
The second hand moon's shining for my gal
She's a big red flag in a mean bullpen
She'll steal it from you, sell right
Back to you again
Well she's a whild rose, she's not settled
Cold gun of ice blue metal, oh
My baby's lowdown
White heat in a cold rain
I'm a mergin here in your mergin lane
Jockey la Fayette, Big Eyed Al
She's a cheap motel with a burned out sign
She'll take care of you definitely every time
She got a stolen check book and leg's upto here
Singing into a hairbrush
Right in front of the mirror
Oh yeah, my baby's lowdown
12 The Return of Jackie and Judy (03:28)
Jackie is a punk, Judy is a runt
They went down to the Mudd Club
And they both got drunk
Oh-yeah
Jackie is a bookie, Judy's taking loans
They both came up to New York
Just to see the Ramones
Oh-yeah
And oh, I don't know why she wrote that letter
Oh no, oh no
Oh I don't know why,
We won't forget her oh no
Jackie's playing hooky Judy's playing pool
They both got caught for cutting
Got to go to summer school
Oh-yeah
Jackie's scalping tickets Judy's getting harassed
They both got kicked outside
Didn't have a backstage pass
Oh-yeah
And oh, I don't know why she wrote that letter
Oh no, oh no
And oh, I don't know why
Don't know what's on her mind
I don't know, no, I don't know
But I can't stand to see her cryin'
She's still cryin', she ain't tryin'
She's going to get left behind
Nobody wants you, nobody wants you
15 Buzz Fledderjohn (04:12)
I stood on the roof, stood toward dark
To get a better look at the Fledderjohns’ lawn
Big sharp pistols, ammo too
Nothing but books about World War II
Rottweiler, Dobermann, a Pinkerton guard
I ain’t allowed in Buzz Fledderjohn’s yard
I ain’t allowed
No, I ain’t allowed
I said, I ain’t allowed in Buzz Fledderjohn’s yard
I seen a python swallowing a Dobermann whole
Piranhas swimming in a mixing bowl
Buzz Fledderjohn
Paper’s full of stabbings, the sky’s full of crows
She’s singing in Italian while she’s hanging out her clothes
Carp in the bathtub and it’s raining real hard
I ain’t allowed in Buzz Fledderjohn’s yard
I said that I ain’t allowed
No, I ain’t allowed
No, I ain’t allowed in Buzz Fledderjohn’s yard.
Well, the sailor’s ringing doorbells, the sinner’s in the pew
Weathervane’s squeaking to the west
I seen the cliffs of Dover and the deepest ocean blue
One thing in the world I can’t recommend to you
Because I ain’t allowed
I said, I ain’t allowed
No, I ain’t allowed in Buzz Fledderjohn’s yard
I said, I ain’t allowed
No, I ain’t allowed
I ain’t allowed in Buzz Fledderjohn’s yard
I ain’t allowed
I ain’t allowed
I said, I ain’t allowed in Buzz Fledderjohn’s yard
Music Lyrics by: Tom Waits
Official release: “Hold On”, Anti Inc., 1999
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Other reviews
By tom traubert
We are faced with an imposing work, a fresco of humanity and poetry that’s not even easy to grasp in its entirety.
Each consists of distinct and perfectly autonomous works, characterized by its own particular mood.
By desade
Once again, I fall in love with the voice devastated by alcohol and drugs of Waits, which modulates different tones but always capable of reaching your heart, as if he were your lifelong drinking companion.
Complex, exciting, visionary, unpredictable. This is what comes to mind after finishing listening to 'Orphans' and every time I insert it in the player.
