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Rating: An outsider, a stranger. Someone who approaches a universe that is not their own, trying to understand, comprehend, and assimilate it. Perhaps an arduous task, but the reward is great: to have something new to love. Personally, I felt that way about Tom Waits when I first approached his music, as my usual listening habits were far removed from what the quintessential American rebel has been offering for so many years. A controversial figure, Thomas Alan Waits. A character who has made his life and his music a constant battle against the illusions of his homeland, the hidden loneliness of his hypocritical and suffocating reality. Born in California in 1949, he is, among the musicians of our time, the ultimate nonconformist genius, representing someone who has detached themselves from everything that the society surrounding him could offer. Almost a play on words, his name, for someone who has never waited for anyone in life.
We are in 1985: the fourteenth album in his intense career, "Rain Dogs", although not his best album in my modest opinion is one of the most representative of his genius because it manages to glimpse at ground level his heart, that which is his tormented soul beneath the apparent emotional serenity of the Blues, under the dark atmospheres of the Title-Track, under the subtle irony of "Singapore" or "Cemetery Polka." It is simply impossible not to shed a small tear listening to his voice, a cigarette lasting years, the voice of all the hobos in the world, the voice of those dogs who, caught by the storm, no longer know how to find their way home... Rain Dogs, indeed. It matters little whether the emotion you feel will be in hearing the slightly jazzy Rock of "Big Black Mariah," where Keith Richards supports Waits' vocals with his guitar, or in the slow and moving notes of the wonderful "Time," in the relaxed cadences of "Gun Street Girl," or in an ovation-worthy piece such as "Clap Hands."
The important thing is to be moved and to do so with the awareness of listening to a tremendous artist who in a work like this manages to mix the singer-songwriter tradition, classic Blues, Rock, and Gospel to bend them to his will, to the propaganda of his poetic word. I would like to continue spending words on this work but I believe it is useless given my acknowledged inadequacy to describe it in detail. It is an album that rivers of words have been spilled over, and I certainly do not feel obliged to add mine. For this reason, I didn't even want to talk about the lyrics, street poetry; it may seem silly, but quoting some of them here would be like doing a disservice to all the others, so I limit myself to highly recommending their reading. To be listened to, assimilated, understood, and loved: and this is said by a metalhead.
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
01 Singapore (02:45)
We sail tonight for Singapore,
we're all as mad as hatters here
I've fallen for a tawny Moor,
took off to the land of Nod
Drank with all the Chinamen,
walked the sewers of Paris
I danced along a colored wind,
dangled from a rope of sand
You must say goodbye to me
We sail tonight for Singapore,
don't fall asleep while you're ashore
Cross your heart and hope to die
when you hear the children cry
Let marrow bone and cleaver choose
while making feet for children shoes
Through the alley, back from hell,
when you hear that steeple bell
You must say goodbye to me
Wipe him down with gasoline
'til his arms are hard and mean
From now on boys this iron boat's your home
So heave away, boys
We sail tonight for Singapore,
take your blankets from the floor
Wash your mouth out by the door,
the whole town's made of iron ore
Every witness turns to steam,
they all become Italian dreams
Fill your pockets up with earth,
get yourself a dollar's worth
Away boys, away boys, heave away
The captain is a one-armed dwarf,
he's throwing dice along the wharf
In the land of the blind
the one-eyed man is king, so take this ring
We sail tonight for Singapore,
we're all as mad as hatters here
I've fallen for a tawny Moor,
took off to the land of Nod
Drank with all the Chinamen,
walked the sewers of Paris
I drank along a colored wind,
I dangled from a rope of sand
You must say goodbye to me
03 Cemetery Polka (01:46)
Uncle Vernon
Uncle Vernon
Independent as a
Hog on ice
He's a big shot down there
At the slaughterhouse
He plays accordion
For Mr. Weiss
Uncle Bittmore and
Uncle William
Made a
Million during
World War II
But they're tightwads
And they're
Cheap skates
And they'll never give a dime to you
Auntie Mame
Has gone
Insane
She lives in
The doorway of an old hotel
And the
Radio's playing opera and
All she ever says
Is go to Hell.
Uncle Violet
Flew as pilot
He said there
Ain't no pretty
Girls in France
Now he runs a
Tiny little
Bookie joint they say
He never
Keeps it in his pants
Uncle Bill
Will never leave a will
And the tumour is as
Big as an egg
He has a mistress
She's a Puerto Rican
And I heard she has
A wooden leg.
Uncle Phil
Can't live without his pills
He has emphysema and
He's almost blind
And we must find out
Where the money is
Get it now
Before he loses his mind
04 Jockey Full of Bourbon (02:47)
Edna Million in a drop dead suit
Dutch Pink on a downtown train
Two-dollar pistol but the gun won't shoot
I'm in the corner on the pouring rain
Sixteen men on a dead man's chest
And I've been drinking from a broken cup
Two pairs of pants and a mohair vest
I'm full of bourbon, I can't stand up
Hey little bird, fly away home
Your house is on fire, children are alone
Hey little bird, fly away home
Your house is on fire, your children are alone
Schiffer broke a bottle on Morgan's head
And I'm stepping on the devil's tail
Across the stripes of a full moon's head
And through the bars of a Cuban jail
Bloody fingers on a purple knife
Flamingo drinking from a cocktail glass
I'm on the lawn with someone else's wife
Admire the view from up on top of the mast
Hey little bird, fly away home
House is on fire, children are alone
Hey little bird, fly away home
House is on fire, your children are alone
I said hey little bird, fly away home
Your house is on fire, your children are alone
Hey little bird, fly away home
House is on fire, your children are alone
Yellow sheets on a Hong Kong bed
Stazybo horn and a Slingerland ride
"To the carnival" is what she said
A hundred dollars makes it dark inside
Edna Million in a drop dead suit
Dutch Pink on a downtown train
Two-dollar pistol but the gun won't shoot
I'm in the corner on the pouring rain
Hey little bird, fly away home
Your house is on fire, your children are alone
Hey little bird, fly away home
Your house is on fire, your children are alone
09 Time (03:56)
Well, the smart money's on Harlow
and the moon is in the street
the shadow boys are breaking all the laws
and you're east of East St. Louis
and the wind is making speeches
and the rain sounds like a round of applause
Napoleon is weeping in the Carnival saloon
his invisible fiance is in the mirror
the band is going home
it's raining hammers, it's raining nails
yes, it's true, there's nothing left for him down here
And it's Time Time Time
And it's Time Time Time
And it's Time Time Time
that you love
And it's Time Time Time
And they all pretend they're orphans
and their memory's like a train
you can see it getting smaller as it pulls away
and the things you can't remember
tell the things you can't forget that
history puts a saint in every dream
Well she said she'd stick around
until the bandages came off
but these mamas boys just didn't know when to quit
and Matilda asks the sailors are those dreams
or are those prayers
so just close your eyes, son
and this won't hurt a bit
And it's Time Time Time
And it's Time Time Time
And it's Time Time Time
that you love
And it's Time Time Time
Well, things are pretty lousy for a calendar girl
the boys just dive right off the cars
and splash into the street
and when she's on a roll she pulls a razor
from her boot and a thousand
pigeons fall around her feet
so put a candle in the window
and a kiss upon his lips
till the dish outside the window fills with rain
just like a stranger with the weeds in your heart
and pay the fiddler off till I come back again
And it's Time Time Time
And it's Time Time Time
And it's Time Time Time
that you love
And it's Time Time Time
12 9th & Hennepin (01:56)
Well it's 9th and Hennepin
And all the donuts have
Names that sound like prostitutes
And the moon's teeth marks are
On the sky like a tarp thrown over all this
And the broken umbrellas like
Dead birds and the steam
Comes out of the grill like
The whole goddamned town is ready to blow.
And the bricks are all scarred with jailhouse tattoos
And everyone is behaving like dogs.
And the horses are coming down Violin Road
And Dutch is dead on his feet
And the rooms all smell like diesel
And you take on the
Dreams of the ones who have slept here.
And I'm lost in the window
I hide on the stairway
I hang in the curtain
I sleep in your hat
And no one brings anything
Small into a bar around here.
They all started out with bad directions
And the girls behind the counter has a tattooed tear,
One for every year he's away she said, such
A crumbling beauty, but there's
Nothing wrong with her that
$100 won't fix, she has that razor sadness
That only gets worse
With the clang and the thunder of the
Southern Pacific going by
As the clock ticks out like a dripping faucet
Till you're full of rag water and bitters and blue ruin
And you spill out
Over the side to anyone who'll listen
And I've seen it
All through the yellow windows
Of the evening train.
17 Downtown Train (03:53)
Outside another yellow moon
punched a hole in the nighttime, yes
I climb through the window and down the street
shining like a new dime
the downtown trains are full with all those Brooklyn girls
they try so hard to break out of their little worlds
You wave your hand and they scatter like crows
they have nothing that will ever capture your heart
theyr'e just thorns without the rose
be careful of them in the dark
oh if I was the one
you chose to be your only one
oh baby can't you hear me now
Will I see you tonight
on a downtown train
every night is just the same
you leave me lonely now
I know your window and I know it's late
I know your stairs and your doorway
I walk down your street and past your gate
I stand by the light at the four way
you watch them as they fall
they all have heart attacks
they stay at the carnival
but they'll never win you back
Will I see you tonight
on a downtown train
every night is just the same
you leave me lonely now
Will I see you tonight on a downtown train
where every night is just the same you leave me lonely
will I see you tonight on a downtown train
all of my dreams just fall like rain
all upon a downtown train
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Other reviews
By Claudio ilvascio
Rain Dogs makes you once again rethink your perspectives on this wonderful chansonnier.
This is perhaps Waits’ truly perfect album, without missteps or smudges, without uncertainties.
