Orphans

TOM WAITSORPHANS

 

Let me start by saying that I am in no way the authority on Tom Waits’ career. Only last year did I proclaim Rain Dogs as one of my all-time favorite albums. Let’s face it, Waits is not for the casual listener; his music – specifically his various vocal deliveries and raw voice – have to hit you at the right time. In fact, you’d be hard pressed to find anyone that can honestly claim to have liked Waits’ upon first blush. If you’re one of the few who’s stars have aligned, 2006’s Orphans (technically titled Orphans: Brawlers, Bawlers & Bastards) was a godsend.

 

Comprised of 54 tracks over three discs, Orphans collects material, both old and new, from all phases of Waits’ storied career as the perpetual outsider of the songwriter genre. Surprisingly, Orphans has no obvious filler. Also surprisingly, 30 of the album’s tracks are brand spankin’ new. The rest of the material is either from Waits’ vaults or so rare that only rabid fans and collectors have heard them.

 

Disc one, titled Brawlers, is Orphans’ most approachable disc for hungry fans. Included are a handful of new Waits’ classics including the raucous opener “Lie to Me,” the oddly catch “2:19,” a rip-throated ballad called “Bottom of the World” that is bound to be covered and made into a hit at some point, a rowdy rendition of The Ramones “The Return of Jackie and Judy” and a cinema-ready cover of “Sea of Love.” Also included is one of my personal favorite songs released in 2006, a seven-minute political song called “Road to Peace” that is surely bound to become one of Waits all-time defining moments.

 

Next is Bawlers, the most classic Waits offering of the set. Full of all-out romps, startling poetry, folk songs and beatnik-pleasing deliveries, Bawlers is so good that it could easily be put next to albums like Rain Dogs and Swordfishtrombones at the top of Waits’ extensive, varied catalog. The well known “Long Way Home” should shoot to the top of Waits fans’ favorite songs lists, as should the mini-epic “Take Care of All My Children.” Bawlers is long, diverse and luminous, just like all of Waits’ best work.

 

Finally we have Bastards, a collection of covers, experiments, spoken word pieces and cinematic music. The “fans-only” disc of the bunch, Bastards includes three of Waits’ best spoken word tracks to date, “Children’s Story,” “Army Ants” and the Charles Bukowski-penned “Nirvana,” leaving me wishing he’d release a full album of such material. Of the cinematic pieces, “Redrum” is the most fascinating and unforgettable, sounding as if it would fit perfectly in a cryptic, dense film like Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s City of Lost Children or Terry Gilliam’s Brazil. The remaining tracks on Bastards are all over the place, ranging from garage hip-hop (“Spidey’s Wild Ride”) to industrial throwbacks (“Dog Door”). Following theme, the covers, too, are all over the place. My personal favorite is Lee Spence’s “Book of Moses;” also covered is Daniel Johnston’s oddly frightening “King Kong.” The disc ends with two hidden tracks featuring classic Waits’ rants that display his eerily exceptional outlook and understanding of the world.

 

The expression “tour de force” could not be better utilized describing and album than here. Orphans is a gargantuan statement of inventiveness from the rebel’s favorite songwriter. If you didn’t buy any other material possession than this album last year, well, at least you chose the most largely gratifying product released all year long. I’ve always wondered what it was like to buy The Beatles’ White Album – in my opinion, the album with the single most classic songs ever – on release day. I now finally have an idea. Take the 15 best songs from Orphans, burn them onto one disc and you’ll have the best album of Waits’ exquisite, rousing career.  9/10

 

Written by G. William Locke