Swordfishtrombones

About

Tom Waits switched his rusty gears on his eighth album, 1983’s <i>Swordfishtrombones</i>, reinventing himself as rock music’s surrealist carnival barker—a growling spinner of tall tales over all manner of clattering percussion. Waits had spent 10 years and seven albums as a celebrated poet of piano benche, barstool, and diner booth, playing late-night weepers about folks nursing the titular “Bad Liver and a Broken Heart.” But having become transfixed by the eclectic tastes of his new wife Kathleen Brennan, Waits fell for a series of new sounds: the broken blues of Captain Beefheart; the homemade percussion of composer Harry Partch; the noir moods of tango; the theatrical flair of cabaret. The result is <i>Swordfishtrombones</i>, a menagerie of madness featuring 15 tracks that almost function as short film, featuring tales of soldiers returning from war and men driven to insanity by the American suburb. <i>Swordfishtrombones</i> traffics in atmosphere as much as it does emotion, its vivid characters rendered not only through Waits’ lyric, but through an eclectic mix of pound, squeak, and scrapes that Waits described as an “organized automobile accident.” “Shore Leave,” a talking blues song about a sailor wandering through a raining Hong Kong, comes to life through clanking bass marimba, scraping chair, and rice on a bass drum. The desolate “Town With No Cheer”—inspired by an article about a town in Australia that closed its only bar—gets its uniquely dusty and dismal feel from bagpipes and synthesizer. And “16 Shells From a Thirty-Ought-Six” evokes chain gangs from its clanging brake drum. Though familiar characters move in and out between song, <i>Swordfishtrombones</i> refuses to stay in one place. It’s a restle, mysterious album, a vibe captured on the opening track, “Underground,” which Waits once described as “the theme for some late-night activity in the steam tunnels beneath New York City, where allegedly there are entire communities of ladies and gentlemen living under difficult circumstances beneath the subway.” Elsewhere on <i>Swordfishtrombones</i>, “Dave the Butcher” sounds like a circus pooting into town on a rotten calliope; “In the Neighborhood” is like a local marching band making their way to the funeral home; and “Gin Soaked Boy” is a warped blues stomper, with Waits’ entire band performing to one microphone, as contact mics pick up the hum of the room. .

via Apple Music

The Clerk says

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