Tom Waits Week: The Early Years (1973-1980)
Closing Time (1973) – Waits’ debut album doesn’t offer much indication as to what the future would bring. His trademark rasp hasn’t even surfaced, and the bizarre imagery that would come 
to define his later work just doesn’t exist. This is an album of lonely heart piano songs, the kind of things that the drunks wanted to hear at the bars where he would play his gigs. There’s a layer of grit to it, but it reminds me of any number of singer-songwriter debut albums of that period. You get the feeling that he could have turned out to be James Taylor, Warren Zevon, or Randy Newman, depending on how the wind blew.
to define his later work just doesn’t exist. This is an album of lonely heart piano songs, the kind of things that the drunks wanted to hear at the bars where he would play his gigs. There’s a layer of grit to it, but it reminds me of any number of singer-songwriter debut albums of that period. You get the feeling that he could have turned out to be James Taylor, Warren Zevon, or Randy Newman, depending on how the wind blew. That’s not to say it’s a bad album. It doesn’t sound like a Tom Waits album, but I have a lot of affection for it. “Ol’ 55” is seriously catchy, and later turned into a hit for the Eagles. There’s a desperate beauty to “Martha”, in which the narrator tries to reconnect with an old girlfriend. In “Ice Cream Man”, he beats Van Halen to the “Ice cream man as metaphor for sex” theme by a good couple of decades. Possibly my favorite is “Grapefruit Moon”, where Tom’s voice reaches for a place that it can’t really go, and as a result almost hits what would become his famous growl.
Recommendation: This is either the album for the Waits completist, or for people who don’t like any other Tom Waits Albums. I enjoy it mostly for historical value, but some of the songs get to me.
Top Tracks: “Grapefruit Moon”, “Martha”
The Heart of Saturday Night (1974) – Only a year later, this is getting closer to the Tom Waits we know and love. He’s still very much in the “Bar Balladeer” mode, but his voice is getting
rougher, and his lyrics more interesting. Instead of lamenting what he’s lost, these songs seem to be about striving to find something. Tom’s looking for that mythical Heart of Saturday Night, where the good times live up to your exact anticipation. His lyrics become more elaborate here, creating an atmosphere and a sense of place for his songs.
rougher, and his lyrics more interesting. Instead of lamenting what he’s lost, these songs seem to be about striving to find something. Tom’s looking for that mythical Heart of Saturday Night, where the good times live up to your exact anticipation. His lyrics become more elaborate here, creating an atmosphere and a sense of place for his songs.I like this album a lot – I love the desperate yearning of “Please Call Me, Baby” and the weird beat poetry of “Diamonds on My Windshield”. (“And a Wisconsin hiker with a cue-ball head / He’s wishing he was home in a Wisconsin bed.”) “The Ghosts of Saturday Night” is the first installment in what would become a tradition for Waits – a spoken word piece. It’s a poem, and there is music, but he’s not so much singing. This piece has one of my favorite Waits lines, “…a solitary sailor / who spends the facts of his life like small change on strangers.”
Recommendation: This is a solid, mid-level album for Tom. This is where his style starts to take shape, and it would be notable for that alone. Somehow, this album manages to be both uglier and prettier than Closing Time.
Top Tracks: “Please Call Me, Baby”, “Shiver Me Timbers” (The narrator leaves his life behind for the sea. Not only is it a really appealing song, but it’s the first thematic hint of the Frank Trilogy.)
Nighthawks at the Diner (1975) – This is a strange album – it was recorded in a studio, but with a live audience. So there’s crowd noise on a studio album, and Tom occasionally addresses them as if he’s playing at a diner. For the most part, the tracks aren’t songs in a traditional sense, as many of them are either lyrical descriptions of truck stops or extended metaphors. “Emotional Weather Report” takes the idea of expressing Tom’s heartbreak in meteorological terms farther than you ever thought possible. And “Nighthawk Postcards” is an eleven-minute description of a street scene. This seems to be an experimental album for Tom – not just in format, but in the writing. He’s developing his keen eye for detail, and working that detail into songs. He’ll describe a waitresses’ jewelry, or refer to the “wet, slick anaconda of a two-lane”. And he’s developing his patter, as most of the songs have spoken-word intros, with old-timey jokes or extended rambles. This album features the debut of Tom’s famous epigram “I’d rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy”.
Recommendation: This is an album for the die-hards. More notable for the lyrics than for anything musical. I like it, but you have to know what you’re getting into.
Top Tracks: “Nighthawk Postcards”
Small Change (1976) – Tom Waits’ first masterpiece. It’s the culmination of his early barfly style, his raspy voice is in full effect, and the lyrics are fantastic. It’s a weird mix of melancholy and insanity, and it seems like it’s the first time Waits has really embraced his own style. It doesn’t
sound like anything that anybody else was doing at the time, and the whole thing just works together perfectly.
sound like anything that anybody else was doing at the time, and the whole thing just works together perfectly.This album does have one of Tom’s early hits “The Piano Has Been Drinking (Not Me)”, which he actually performed on an early episode of Saturday Night Live. It seems that almost every song on this album is about a bar, whether he’s a hustler (“Jitterbug Boy”), a guy who’s remembering the better times (“I Wish I Was in New Orleans”), or a desperate drunk (“Bad Liver and a Broken Heart”). There’s the hilarious “Pasties and a G-String”, Waits’ ode to strippers, and his carnival pitchman “Step Right Up”. That one’s particularly notable – it’s a rapid-fire stream of salesman patter for a mysterious produce. It’s kind of like Tom Waits is one of the pioneers of rap. There’s a tale of a small-time gangster who got killed for his trouble (“Small Change”), and the whole thing ends on a hopeful note, with Tom as a barroom janitor just waiting for the doors to close so he can go home to the woman he loves (“I Can’t Wait to Get Off Work”). It’s just perfect from beginning to end.
Recommendation: Highly recommended – one of his best albums. Easily the best at this point in his career, and one of his best overall.
Top Tracks: “Step Right Up”, “The Piano Has Been Drinking”, “Tom Traubert’s Blues”
Foreign Affairs (1977) – This album is a weird mix – most of it is pretty dark, but there are a couple of jazzy numbers, including a duet with Bette Midler. Yes, Bette Midler. Sometimes I just have to sit and wonder that such a thing exists. And why did Tom Waits and Bette Midler sing a duet? Because the 70’s, that’s why.Midler appears on “I Never Talk to Strangers”, a musical flirtation. Whenever I hear this song, I think it would have made a fine number on The Muppet Show. (And before you ask, Rowlf would be Tom. You’d think it would be Gonzo, but you’d be wrong.) “Potter’s Field” is one of his darkest pieces up to this point, a tale of crime and violent death. (“He dressed the hole in his gut with a hundred dollar bandage / a king’s ransom for a bedspread that don’t amount to nothin’”) “Barber Shop” is a dialogue between a barber and his customers, and it’s a neat bit of slice-of-life storytelling. And in a throwback to Closing Time, “Muriel” is another sad-sack love song. It’s strangely uneven, as many of the songs almost seem like they were written before Small Change, and they would fit in better on his earlier albums.
Recommendation: Whenever I listen to this one, I’m always surprised how much I like it. And then it gets lost in the shuffle until the next time, and I’m surprised all over again. My relationship with Foreign Affairs is complicated.
Top Tracks: “Potter’s Field”, “Jack & Neal”
Blue Valentines (1978) – I think of this as one of Tom’s transitions albums – along with his next release, Heartattack and Vine, this leads into the second phase of his career. Blue Valentines has some
incredibly dark moments, a near-hit, and one of the most beautiful songs Waits ever wrote. It’s actually one of my favorites.
incredibly dark moments, a near-hit, and one of the most beautiful songs Waits ever wrote. It’s actually one of my favorites.Opening with a cover of “Someday” (from West Side Story), Tom tests out his growl on an old standard, to interesting effect. Many of the songs tell stories of people on the fringes of society. “Romeo is Bleeding” canonizes a dying gang leader (“He’ll die without a whimper / like every heroes dream”). “$29.00” brings us a young woman who moved to Los Angeles only to be manipulated, used, and finally raped and left for dead. And then there’s “Christmas Card from a Hooker in Minneapolis”, in which a desperate prostitute tries to convince her former pimp that everything is going just fine. In the frequently covered “Whistling Past the Graveyard”, Waits tries out a persona that he’ll return to again and again – the hell-raising hobo. And then there’s the stunning “Kentucky Avenue”. It begins as a simple checklist of neighborhood gossip (“Hilda plays strip poker / when her mama’s ‘cross the street”), and then it develops into a promise made by one child to another. The object of the song seems to be the narrator’s young girlfriend, and she’s handicapped (probably a victim of polio). It’s absolutely gorgeous the way Waits makes these promises based on some sort of elaborate childhood mythology – “Take the spokes from your wheelchair / and a magpie’s wings / tie ‘em to your shoulders and your feet”. It’s a beautiful, heartfelt song that comes without any kind of irony.
Recommendation: Often overlooked, it’s one of the best. I’d rank it in his top five easily.
Top Tracks: “Kentucky Avenue”, “Christmas Card from a Hooker in Minneapolis”
Heartattack and Vine (1980) – The second of his transition albums, Heartattack and Vine is Tom’s farewell to melancholy. It’s the last time we really see him writing the kind of songs that are meant to be played on a piano in a saloon. While future albums would see him remaining primarily a pianist, he’ll use dissonance as a tool, and occasionally he’ll play things that aren’t technically instruments. Chairs, a giant stone wheel, door hinges, and on one occasion, a sledgehammer and toilet. But that’s still to come. Here, we have the end of his first era. And he closes out the era in style. There are some legitimately heartfelt love songs – “Jersey Girl” was a hit when Springsteen covered it, and “Ruby’s Arms” is the heartrending story of a guy who leaves because he doesn’t feel like he deserves to be loved. (“I swear to God, by Christmastime / There’ll be someone else to hold you.”) The endearingly sentimental “On the Nickel” has always seemed to me to be a lullaby sung by a hobo to his son. Then there are the muscular, aggressive songs with Waits’ now-famous imagery. “Mr. Siegal” is about a violent drifter who wants a new life but doesn’t see it as a possibility. (“How do the angels get to sleep / when the devil leaves the porch light on.”) And the title song has a punk extol the virtues of his lifestyle, and brings the fantastic line “Don’t you know there ain’t no devil / that’s just God when he’s drunk”.
Recommendation: Another favorite, this one holds together exceptionally well. This is a great introductory album for the new listener.
Top Tracks: “Ruby’s Arms”, “On the Nickel”, “Jersey Girl”
In Part 2, we’ll look at Waits’ mid-period, where his music becomes more propulsive and more concerned with storytelling at the same time. And we’ll meet a fellow named Frank.
