Bad As Me
Would it kill Tom Waits to do an album of late night piano ballads? Look, I am a dull old man and that's how I approach each new record he makes, oh since Frank's Wild Years or something, with trepidation. But you know, as it turns out there are plenty of people who'd go in for some of the same kind of bad as me.
Recently, I was at Alan's with a former Prehistoric Man, believe me this former Prehistoric Man has a record collection at least as big as yours, with the attendant reinforced shelves and floors and doors and speakers. Anyway, he found a copy of Waits' Closing Time for a Â£1 or something, a good buy, particularly when within hours he was calling Lonely the most beautiful song he'd ever heard. And he's been around a long time, he is former Prehistoric Man, after all.
So, lush piano lushness, there is a taste for it.
Bad As Me is like a very much alive Tom Waits career record. It's a good one. It's got gonzo moments, it's got everything on there that brought us all to this point. So if you can enjoy Hang On St. Christopher, there's little to be too worried about here. It might not be an album of Grapefruit Moons but everything on here is just as graceful and there's something on here for everyone. If Tom Waits is ever going to make a party album this one could be it. It's the first one in a while I've really enjoyed from start to finish, it's pretty accessible Tom.
If you've arrived at this because you are a Tom Waits fan, then you probably should read, Tom Waits on a Plane
Hamilton High was born on Doheny Ave in the gutter, is a poet, writer and observer of popular culture. Likes fashion and cares less for style. He's on the move, he's an alter ego and we hardly ever hear from him.
The Pixievic Pixiekisses book launch at the ORT Cafe