If you were to speak to any of my friends or family they would tell you that, aside from a slightly unhealthy obsession in Eldritch horrors, my overwhelming obsession for the past 30 years or so has been Tom Waits. I can't remember what prompted me to buy Raindogs at 16 while all my friends were listening to the Red Hot Chili Peppers but buy it I did and things were never the same again. I hadn't heard anything like it. I was just starting making films (I have a long-neglected degree in filmmaking - sadly everything went digital right after I graduated) and these songs felt like movies in my head. I promptly tracked down Swordfishtrombones and Frank's Wild Years (followed swiftly by everything else) and vividly remember playing Frank's Wild Years for the first time alone in a darkened room and it scaring the shit (are we allowed to swear on here?) out of me - in the best possible way. I've been lucky enough to see Tom Waits live twice and live in hope that I may have the opportunity again, however that hope, along with the hope for a new album, has been gradually dwindling. In short I have had a huge slightly scary Waitsian itch to scratch and this album has filled that dark, gravel voiced void. The perfect album for Nighthawks at the Gilman House (and for me).
