Backbone > Ear Whacks
CD Reviews

Tom Waits: Alice, Blood Money
2002 Anti/Epitaph

There is no question that the editors of The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians were hard-pressed to pin a genre on Tom Waits’ lapel. Many a title has been foisted upon him—folkie, bohemian, poet, and jazz singer. Waits’ 29-year career has been on a musical merry-go-round ride since his first album, Closing Time, was recorded in 1973. His 18th and 19th recordings, Alice and Blood Money, were written with his partner Kathleen Brennan to accompany two of the visionary theater director Robert Wilson’s stage productions.

Wilson directed Alice, originally written as an avant-garde opera that was debuted in Germany during the winter of 1992. On the CD, dubbed “The lost Tom Waits masterpiece” by critics, Waits employs traditional rock instruments—bass, electric guitar, piano, and drums, and pairs them with skeletal chamber orchestrations comprised of a pump organ, chamberlain (an early sampling keyboard), and Stroh violin (a violin affixed with a brass horn). Utilizing these tools, Waits and his group create a haunting cycle of songs that tells the story of a middle-aged Victorian minister who fell in love with an enchanting nine-year-old girl named Alice. Wilson’s production is loosely based on Lewis Carroll’s obsession with the young Alice Liddell, the girl who inspired his novels Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, and Through the Looking Glass.

“Alice”, the album’s opening track, is a painfully beautiful jazz ballad where Waits spells out his own true love for Brennan—his own Alice. “Everything You Can Think” is a twisting journey into a nightmare, dotted with haunting notes from electric guitar, Swiss hand bells, and a four-foot tall dried boomerang seed-pod. “We’re decomposing as we go,” Waits sings in his barbaric raspy voice. “Fish and Bird”, a beautifully crooned soft-waltz, is a bittersweet love story between two unlikely species.

Blood Money, a collection of 13 songs, is based on the 1837 socio-political play “Woyzeck”, written by the German poet Georg Buchner. Wilson summoned Waits and Brennan to write songs for his Danish production of the play. “Misery is the River of the World,” with its calliope, marimba, bells, and gongs, “Everything Goes to Hell,” with its bongos and baritone sax, and “God’s Away on Business,” with Stuart Copeland’s log drums and Waits’ gruff voice, were all composed in Hades. Contrasting those tracks are the sweet “Coney Island Baby,” and the melancholy “Lullaby”.

Waits was probably born in a music box, surrounded by chimes, bells, whistles, and rattles. He is infatuated with displaced instruments—stuff no one wants anymore. His music conjures up Tin Pan Alley songsters and circus music. Waits incorporates musical elements of his idols—Captain Beefheart, Lightnin’ Hopkins, and Louis Armstrong—and melds them to fit into his own bizarre microcosm. Be strong, get inspired—listen to this music. Heed my warning, however, this stuff is not for the faint of heart.

—Christian F. Polos

Town And Country: C’mon
Thrill Jockey Records, 2002

Ever heard of post-rock? It’s when rock and roll musicians put down their amplifiers, their electric guitars, and pick up instruments like harmonium, cello, and chimes.

It’s a growing movement, best exemplified in my mind by the Montreal group Godspeedyoublackemperor (yep, that’s their name!), and in the eyes of a lot of music critics, it is the next wave of music.

Me, I’m not quite convinced. Don’t mind a little drone now and then, but when it goes on for a full album, I reach for the No-Doz. That’s why I was more than a little surprised when Chronogram’s music editor, Jonathan King, sent me C’mon, the new album by Chicago’s anti-rockers Town And Country, to review. By now, Jonathan should know that this kind of album ain’t my thang, but that’s precisely what I love about Jonathan. A musicologist at heart, he delights in teaching us prejudiced fools about new things, especially new currents in music.

As expected, upon first listening, my initial reaction was: “pschaw, how pretentious!” But being a highly paid music critic (in my dreams), I decided to give the album another go. And another go. And, yet, another. And to no great surprise (and probably not to Jonathan’s either), I ended up starting to like this record a lot.

Okay, bottom line—what this album is not. It’s not commercial by any means. If you’re into The Back Street Boys or Shania Twain or Britney, don’t even bother reading another word of this review, because you won’t like Town and Country.

If, however, you have a taste for Phillip Glass, Brian Eno or the minimalist composer Morton Feldman, by all means, check this album out, check this album out, check this album out.
Yep, it’s a little bit repetitive. But gawd ain’t that cool…

—David McDonald

Blueberry: Have Another Pillow
Spirit Music Publishing, 2002

I just got this CD by Blueberry called Have Another Pillow. Ooh! Such an adorable package. The artwork is all swirly and drippy. Neat-o! Vocalist/songwriter Gwen Snyder is cute as a button. And what’s this rattling sound? Colorful nuggets from a candy necklace are in the spine of the jewel case. TCFW! (Too cute for words!) Okay, so the marketing’s precious. Wonder what it sounds like.

I detest it at once. It’s Lisa Loeb fronting Sergio Mendes and Brasil ‘66. Tori meets Shaft. Burt Bacharach and Elizabeth Frazier entrapped inside a disco ball, copulating. Are these people smoking crack? Here’s what I’m thinking: if I’m on Weight Watchers’ Winning Points Plan, how many points does this cheese get? Blood races to horror-stricken nerves. My eyes are saucers. I’m clawing flesh from my skull. Can I have another pillow, so I can smother myself?

But wait, it gets better. I can’t deny Snyder’s talent. Her voice is alluring, and she plays her electric Velveeta Fender Rhodes effortlessly. She’s been featured on WB’s “Roswell”, NBC’s “Providence”, and in a few recent films. She’s worked with Academy Award winning composer Ryuichi Sakamoto, jazz great Don Byron, and plays bass for rockers Johnny Society. Her eight mystery Blueberry musicians are skilled players, as well. But to immediately process the unconventional pairing of this sweetheart to a lounge music ensemble with full horn section, I’d have to be on some mind-altering substance. I suppose the genre is Soul Nouveau. Whatever it’s called, I’m still on my first listen, and I want to run screaming into the night and hit my head with a big rock.

After enjoying various roles in the music industry for 12 years, I thought I’d heard every genre under God. But upon listening to this New York City-based band, I clearly understand that there’ll always be something out there to dumbfound me. This isn’t a middle-of-the-road CD, and my initial reaction to it is severe. I know that even if I give it a frightening review, consumers will still buy it because they’re weird little monkeys who are curious about idiosyncratic stuff (such as Fabio’s brilliant abomination album, which is like being stabbed in the eyeball with a hot syringe...or good sex, I’m not sure which).

So, I listen to Blueberry’s album a second time. I have to, I’m reviewing. Suddenly, I’m sorta grooving on it. After a third listen I’m embarrassed, because I’m finally digging this kooky twaddlewhack. (It’s a tender moment.) Maybe there are subliminal messages deeply imbedded in the cheese to make me happy, I don’t know. Anyway, I love this CD. I hate it. Murder me.

—Sharon Nichols