| Track: | Rating: | ||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1. Sixteen Shells From A Thirty-Ought-Six | | | | | |
| 2. Red Shoes | | | | | |
| 3. Cold Cold Ground | | | | | |
| 4. Way Down In The Hole | | | | | |
| 5. Falling Down | | | | | |
| 6. Strange Weather | | | | | |
| 7. Big Black Mariah | | | | | |
| 8. Rain Dogs | | | | | |
| 9. Train Song | | | | | |
| 10.Telephone Call From Istanbul | | | | | |
| 11.Gun Street Girl | | | | | |
| 12.Time | | | | | |
Although falling outside the history of progressive rock, Tom Waits is unquestionably a significant figure in modern American "art music" (though he might reject the term). His early albums reveal a tortured jazz-blues authenticity which few of his contemporaries could have hoped to equal; Frank Zappa thought enough of him to have him open a few shows in the mid-'70s, even in the face of somewhat hostile crowds. By the 1980s, Waits elaborated his musical style somewhat and came up with the trilogy that made his reputation: Swordfishtrombones, Rain Dogs and Frank's Wild Years. Big Time is a live album from this period.
This reviewer admits that he is not an expert in all things Waits -- though possessing a general knowledge and appreciation of his music, the only other TW album which he possesses is the aforementioned Sftb. Comparisons with the corresponding studio tracks will, accordingly, not occupy much space in this review.
Big Time is a mixed bag as an introduction to Waits, as it effectively was for me. While it is the most convenient overview of his career (as the Trouser Press Guide notes), the cohesiveness and character development which marked his studio works are generally not to be found here. Newcomers might be recommended to start with either Swordfish or something more recent. For those with some background in the field (or for those who just like disobeying my recommendations), though, Big Time should supplement the studio works fairly well.
The live performances by the Waits band are minor marvels of sorts -- musically diverse universes of ragged beauty, seemingly held together by the most tenuous of threads. There's a strong aura of the unpredictable over the entire thing, though Waits is enough of a showman to keep the entire thing unified. Whatever the limits of this "live album" concept, the music is generally stellar throughout -- and is strongly recommended to all interested parties.
There have been rumours that Waits was attempting to emulate Captain Beefheart at the time of Swordfishtrombones. Even if he wasn't, "Sixteen Shells From A Thirty-Ought-Six" suggests that something of CB's genius was carried over to his work. The basis of an unconventional rock band arrangement is there (xylophone and horns are two of the leading instruments on this track), as is the sense of (actually well-organized) musical chaos occurring around the main performance ... which, of course is Waits himself, pouring every aspect of his persona into this depraved tale. As per Waits's general career, the guitar solo which appears towards the end is not "prog" ... but has its tricks nonetheless. This is a great opener, and should win quite a few converts to the Waits cause.
"Red Shoes" is almost as good, with Tom in full demonic mode as he ventures through the lowest levels of his vocal range (the significance of the title to demonic trade-offs should be evident to most readers). The dominance of organ (and maracas, to some extent) on the introduction suggests an atmosphere of classic psycho-dramatic theatre, a mood which the actual song does nothing to diminish (and the gradual building of the guitar line is handled fairly well too).
Relative to the rest of the album, the selections which then follow are a bit of a letdown. "Cold Cold Ground" has a genuinely haunting lead vocal line (not all of Waits's singing talents lie in his famed abrasiveness, after all). With minimal backing, Tom croons a tale of poverty, frustration and the end of hubris ... if it weren't for a slight element of mainstream balladry in the track (somewhat akin to Bruce Springsteen) the track might be easier to unconditionally enjoy.
Moving on to "the religious material", TW then takes his audience through "Way Down In The Hole", a mock-gospel number performed over a samba-infected beat. It shouldn't surprise too many readers to learn that this number features a most impressive mid-song wail -- however ironic his context, there's no question that Tom has the ability to sing as though possessed with some divine presence. The interplay with the audience is quite amusing as well; certainly, Tom's success in getting an "amen" from the crowd suggests that he might have had some success in the revival circuit. The only problem is his decision to throw in a televangelist reference about halfway through -- this can't help but date the performance, somewhat. Still, this would have been quite impressive to witness live.
"Falling Down" is the token "new studio track" on the album, and it shows. Using a more polished vocal mannerism, Tom presents a pilgrim's tale of questing for a distant godhead figure (associated with a female presence, naturally). This is a fairly well-trod theme in the musical world, and, though Waits does a good enough job, he doesn't really add anything really notable to it. The apparent presence of an upright bass is notable, but not for terribly much; the guitar solo is simply unmemorable. Painless, perhaps, but this number still could have been excised fairly easily.
Waits gets the opportunity to showcase his London accent on "Strange Weather" (quite tasteful, really), which mingles well with the subtle introduction of the main theme. This alcoholic's lament is most notable for its brief "chorus", a tragi-comic feat that Waits pulls off perfectly each time. The saxophone is given a fairly prominent role in this number, as is befitting for a work obviously premised in jazz clubs (the mere fact of a London accent does not mean that the action occurs in London, obviously).
The dementia of "Big Black Mariah" seems evident from its first guitar notes onward -- it's probably no coincidence that this number begins the second half of the album, just as "Sixteen Shells" began the first side. While this track isn't quite as good as its counter, it still has more than its fair share of favourable qualities -- some, in particular, might note the extreme high range of Waits's voice, as used in mid-song.
From thence, it's on to another album highlight. "Rain Dogs" suggests a "high society in high decay" motif in both its music and lyric, with the unlikely protagonist being taken from obscurity to decadence in a fairly easy step. The accordion is once again prominent in the performance, even taking a solo in mid-performance; Waits's voice seems extremely poignant in the period after this, actually. The twisted ballroom dance motif at the end suggests a Poe-esque aura of madness setting over the decadent assembly, though no "fall" actually occurs within the song. Another triumph.
Prior to "Train Song", Tom indulges in an amusing bit of interplay with the audience ... and I won't spoil it for those who haven't yet heard the album -- let's just say that it involves the Civil War. In any event, the singer's nonchalant switch from humour to a serious stage performance is commendable; "Train Song" turns out to be a soulful lament, similar in many respects to "Cold Cold Ground" (though still possessing of some hope at the end). As per "CCG", moreover, this track (which is dominated by piano, as far as the accompaniment goes) isn't quite as noteworthy as those surrounding it, despite being an impressive number on its own terms.
Another Beefheartian track then emerges with "Telephone Call From Istanbul", a tale of international espionage and betrayal (which, again, bears some musical similarities to "Sixteen Shells"). The brass lead for much of the song is nothing short of insane (or, at least, seems that way), and the guitar track seems rather CB-inspired as well. As per the song qua song, the chorus here seems to be one of the best of Tom's career (though it's not entirely clear how someone could drive a car when they're dead in the first place...).
The slow Western (not country) music which begins "Gun Street Girl" sets the stage for one of the most curious numbers on the release -- TW's tale of depravity and remorse is presented in conjunction with a hypnotic musical backing (dominated by tom-toms, it would seen). The end result is akin to a chant derived from the animist traditions, somehow placing the guttural within a workable context. Also of note are the distorted vocal backing tracks, a strange banjo lead, and a quote from "Papa Was A Rolling Stone". A much stranger triumph than the other tracks on the album, this is still an extremely notable work.
The album, appropriately, ends with "Time", a ballad for lost souls in their journeys through bars and the worlds of decadence therein; the gentle chorus combined the opiating and destructive elements in equal amounts. The musical backing remains minimal throughout the number, allowing the lyrical presence to emerge in a reasonably uninterrupted manner. A Spartan good-bye ends the performance.
Although this reviewer would certainly recommend that more progressive listeners (including himself) examine Waits's career in further detail, he remains uncertain that Big Time is the best first step. If not the best means of an introduction, however, it would probably not be harmful as such -- the reader is left to his own discretion accordingly.
(review originally posted to alt.music.yes on 18 Jul 1998)